Sisters Vanished In Idaho – Three Years Later, One Found in the Forest With Two Rope Dolls

Idaho, September 2013. The morning was cold, fog clinging between the ancient pines of Baker Creek. Brothers Dave and Eric Coulson, seasoned hunters from Clayton, were tracking deer along an abandoned logging road, unaware they were about to stumble upon one of the most haunting mysteries in Kuster County.

Under a fallen tree, Dave noticed a splash of blue fabric among the drab forest floor. At first, he thought it was just tourist litter, but as he drew closer, a curved white line appeared—a human bone. The skeleton lay quietly beneath layers of earth and pine needles. Next to it, two small rope dolls, their black bead eyes staring blankly, were neatly placed on a flat stone. The brothers didn’t dare touch anything. A chill settled over them.

Within hours, forensic experts confirmed the remains belonged to Doris Phillips, who had vanished three years earlier with her sister Caitlyn. But Caitlyn was nowhere to be found. The two rope dolls became the haunting centerpiece, pulling police back to the old, abandoned White Peak quarry—a place locals preferred to avoid.

The Beginning of a Mystery

June 2010. Sisters Caitlyn and Doris Phillips, originally from Salt Lake City, arrived in Idaho for a three-day hiking trip along the Chamberlain Trail. They signed the visitor log, packed light, and set off in high spirits. The last people to see them alive were three hikers from Boise, who encountered the sisters just before dusk, half a mile from the trailhead. “They greeted us, said they wanted to go as far as possible before nightfall,” one recalled.

That night, their mother waited for a call. None came. By the next morning, with no contact, she called the sheriff. The sisters’ car was still parked at Redfish Lake, locked, with spare clothes and a guidebook inside—nothing suspicious, except for their absence.

Search teams, dogs, helicopters, and dozens of volunteers scoured every ravine and creek. Yet not a single trace was found—no fabric, no footprints, nothing. It was as if the sisters had vanished into thin air.

Months of Silence

The Phillips family refused to give up. They hired private investigator Samuel Ross, who methodically examined every theory—accident, animal attack, rockfall. No evidence surfaced. Ross interviewed hunters, checked camps, and questioned Clayton locals. One old-timer vaguely remembered seeing a tall man in dark clothes, but no one could confirm it.

Bank records and phone data showed nothing unusual. The last signal from Caitlyn’s phone was that morning near Redfish Lake. By July, the search dwindled. Hope faded into dry reports. “This story has no movement. It’s just hanging,” Ross wrote. The case was officially declared cold.

A Chilling Discovery

September 2013. The Baker Creek forest was eerily quiet. Dave and Eric discovered the skeleton, blue fabric, and two rope dolls—placed side by side, facing the trail. Forensics determined the body had been there for over two years, matching Doris’s disappearance. No signs of violence, no personal items, only the dolls—clean, seemingly recently placed or carefully maintained.

DNA tests found only Doris’s traces on the dolls. The knots were expertly tied, using high-quality climbing rope, not something bought by accident.

Police expanded the search northeast, toward the long-abandoned White Peak quarry. Locals avoided it due to unstable rocks and old tunnels. Yet investigators found fresh footprints, water bottles, and energy bars with recent expiration dates. In the basement of a ruined office, they discovered a faded backpack marked “KP”—Caitlyn Phillips.

Clues From the Past

Inside the backpack, police found Caitlyn’s journal. The early pages logged the hike, but later entries grew anxious. Caitlyn described feeling watched near Hope Lake, hearing footsteps, and meeting a man claiming to be a ranger, urging them to avoid the quarry. “He kept his distance, acted strangely,” she wrote. After this encounter, the sisters decided to cut the route short. The final entry mentioned strange sounds around their tent that night—then the pages ended.

The backpack and journal were carefully placed, not discarded in haste. Police suspected they were hidden after the sisters disappeared.

The Forest Keeper—A Suspect Emerges

Luke Henderson’s name surfaced after checking quarry records. Henderson, a reclusive former quarry worker, lived in a trailer near Clayton, working as a seasonal hunter. During questioning, Henderson admitted meeting the sisters and warning them about the quarry, claiming “homeless people and poachers” gathered there. No one could verify this. Henderson appeared nervous, gave vague answers, and had no solid alibi.

A search of his trailer revealed climbing ropes, knot samples similar to the dolls, but the rope was a different grade. Henderson denied involvement, claiming he was “haunted by the image of the dolls” after seeing news reports, and said he found Caitlyn’s backpack by chance but never turned it in.

Beneath a floorboard, police found a rusted metal box containing ropes, black beads, special scissors, and a photo of a rope doll on a forest floor identical to the scene of Doris’s discovery. Analysis showed the photo was taken days after news of Doris’s body broke—someone had returned to the forest, made or placed another doll, and photographed it as a taunt.

The Quarry—Center of Darkness

Police launched a large-scale search of White Peak quarry. In a sealed technical room, they found an iron cot, a wooden box, and a brand-new rope doll—same technique, same bead eyes, same precision. No trace of Caitlyn, no personal items, just the doll, as if the ritual continued.

Henderson offered no explanation, repeating that he was uninvolved. No biological evidence, no witnesses, only circumstantial clues: the backpack, the doll-making materials, the strange photo, and Henderson’s evasive behavior.

Trial and Lingering Shadows

Henderson was tried for the murder of Doris Phillips. The evidence was circumstantial, built on odd behaviors and disturbing coincidences. He was sentenced to life in prison. But Caitlyn remained missing—no trace, no explanation, only the unnerving presence of the rope dolls, symbols of a secret the Idaho forest still holds.

In her diary, their mother wrote: “Every night, I see two reflections in the window, like two figures standing in the yard, and I cannot tell where they’ve been all these years.” What remains is emptiness—and the fear that the White Peak quarry will never give up its answers.

What do you think happened? Will the truth about Caitlyn ever surface, or will the forest keep its secrets forever?