She Went to a Store and Vanished: The Truth Took 30 Years to Uncover

On a warm summer afternoon in July 1985, a young girl in suburban Illinois set out on what should have been a quick errand. She never returned. What followed was a decades-long mystery filled with false leads, ruined lives, and unanswered questions—until the truth finally emerged thirty years later, in the most unexpected way.

A Safe Town and a Bright Young Girl

Christy Wesselman was born on April 19, 1970, in Glen Ellyn, Illinois, a small town considered one of the safest in the Chicago suburbs. She lived with her mother, her two older brothers, and a sister.

Christy was the kind of teenager everyone liked. At school she was popular, active in sports, and even served as vice president of her class. She loved volleyball and softball, and she was known for her bright, outgoing personality. Like many kids in Glen Ellyn, Christy spent hours exploring her neighborhood, riding her bike, or hanging out with friends.

By the summer of 1985, she was 15 years old, taking summer classes and enjoying the long, warm days of freedom. On July 21st, she came home from school around 3:30 p.m. and told her mother she was going to the store to grab a soda and some candy for the two of them. The store was just a short walk away.

Her mother expected her back within minutes.

But Christy never came home.

A Routine Errand Becomes a Nightmare

At first, Christy’s mother thought she might have bumped into some friends. This was the mid-1980s—long before cell phones—so she had no way to check. As the hours passed, worry turned into dread. By evening, she began calling Christy’s friends, only to discover that none of them had seen her.

Growing desperate, she set out to the store herself, searching the streets along the way. But Christy was nowhere to be found.

That night, the family searched tirelessly. At 1:50 a.m., her mother called the police. Officers quickly joined the search, retracing Christy’s steps.

The store clerk remembered her well. He had even babysat Christy years earlier. He told police that she came in around 4:00 p.m., bought some chocolate bars, and left. She seemed happy and gave no sign that anything was wrong.

Other witnesses confirmed seeing Christy at the store, but none knew where she went afterward.

By morning, investigators began retracing her likely route home. One officer suspected she had taken a well-known shortcut: a dirt trail through a vacant lot covered in tall grass. Kids often used this path to get to the store and McDonald’s nearby.

The officer followed the trail. Then, hidden in the overgrowth, he found something chilling.

It was Christy’s body.

The Crime Scene

Christy had been stabbed eight times and sexually assaulted. Investigators collected biological material from the attacker—an invaluable clue. But in 1985, DNA testing was still in its infancy and not widely used in investigations. The sample was preserved for the future.

One detail stood out to Christy’s mother: she had been wearing a pearl ring that day. It was missing from the crime scene. Detectives theorized that the killer might have taken it as a trophy. They notified local pawn shops to keep watch.

Despite scouring the area, police found no footprints, no personal belongings, no weapon—nothing that pointed to a suspect.

What struck investigators as bizarre was how close the murder site was to other people. A family had been hosting a barbecue just yards away. A gas station attendant worked nearby all day. Yet no one saw or heard anything unusual.

Police theorized the killer may have been someone Christy knew—someone she trusted enough not to scream.

Years of Dead Ends

For months, detectives interviewed Christy’s friends, family, and dozens of local men with criminal records. Every lead fizzled.

In 1988, as DNA testing became more common, investigators decided to collect DNA from all potential suspects. Many men cooperated. None matched.

One man, however, refused: Dana Henry, who lived near the crime scene. His refusal raised suspicions. Police pressured him into providing a sample—eventually holding him in jail until he complied. When his DNA didn’t match, Henry was released.

But the damage was done. He lost his home to legal fees, many of his friends abandoned him, and his reputation was ruined. Henry later said the ordeal had destroyed his life.

In 1989, another bizarre twist emerged. A man named Willis repeatedly contacted Christy’s family, claiming to know who the killer was. For years, he bombarded them with false leads until a restraining order barred him from contacting them again. Police investigated him but found no evidence tying him to the crime.

In 2000, the preserved DNA was uploaded into the FBI database. No match. The case went cold.

The Breakthrough

For decades, Christy’s case haunted the community. Detectives retired, new teams took over, but no progress was made.

Then, in 2015, everything changed.

The FBI notified investigators of a hit: the DNA from Christy’s killer matched that of a man named Michael Jones, a 62-year-old living in Champaign, Illinois—150 miles away.

Jones’s DNA had been entered into the system after his arrest for domestic violence. Under Illinois law, anyone charged with such a crime had to provide a DNA sample. Ironically, this very law had been pushed by the state’s attorney in Christy’s county, inspired in part by her unsolved murder.

After thirty years, investigators finally had a name.

Who Was Michael Jones?

Michael Jones had never been on detectives’ radar. He didn’t live in Glen Ellyn, didn’t know Christy, and had no apparent connection to the case.

But his criminal history told another story.

In the late 1970s, Jones assaulted a woman and faced charges, but avoided serious consequences. Not long after, he attacked another woman, leaving her in a hospital parking lot. He turned himself in, claimed mental health struggles, but was found competent. He was sentenced to 10–20 years in prison but served only six. He was released in 1983—two years before Christy’s murder.

Over the years, Jones married and divorced, leaving a trail of restraining orders and abuse allegations. He often took solo motorcycle trips, sometimes passing near Glen Ellyn.

It explained why detectives never found him. He was just passing through.

When police informed Christy’s mother of the DNA match, she was stunned. She had never heard his name.

In 2015, investigators arrested Jones and charged him with Christy’s murder.

Justice at Last

The case went to trial in 2018. Prosecutors pushed for a life sentence, but Jones eventually pleaded guilty in exchange for a lighter penalty. He was sentenced to 80 years in prison, with parole possible only after 2095—a date he would never live to see.

For Christy’s family, it was bittersweet closure. Her mother thanked investigators but lamented that if Jones had served his full prison term in the 1970s, Christy would still be alive.

Dana Henry, the wrongly suspected man, attended the trial too. He admitted that even seeing the real killer convicted did little to repair the damage done to his life. He never received an apology from the police.

As for Michael Jones, detectives suspect he may have been responsible for other unsolved crimes. His violent past, his unpredictable rage, and his fascination with detective novels and crime shows suggest Christy’s murder may not have been his only one.

A Tragic Legacy

Christy Wesselman’s story is one of a promising young life cut short, a grieving family forced to wait decades for answers, and a justice system that failed in crucial ways.

Her case also shaped history in an indirect way. The Illinois law requiring DNA samples from criminal suspects—passed in part because of her unsolved murder—was the very reason her killer was eventually caught.

Three decades too late, but justice finally came.

Christy’s mother said it best: “If he had served his full sentence, my daughter would still be alive.”