In August 2000, the scorching desert heat of West Texas became the backdrop for a mystery that has haunted a Houston family for decades. Samuel Jones, a respected geology teacher admired for his meticulous habits and deep passion for the outdoors, set out with his 14-year-old daughter, Simone, on what was meant to be a meaningful father–daughter adventure to Guadalupe Peak, the tallest point in Texas.

The plan was simple yet special: hike to the summit, camp under the wide desert sky, and let Simone sketch the Milky Way from a place where the stars shone undisturbed by city lights. Before leaving in Samuel’s old Ford pickup, Simone asked her mother, Eleanor, if she thought she could capture the Milky Way in her drawings. Eleanor reassured her, smiling as she said Simone would sketch it better than anyone. Neither mother nor daughter knew those words would be their last exchange.

By Friday evening, the call Samuel promised from the summit never came. Eleanor’s worry quickly turned into panic, and the next morning park rangers launched a search. Helicopters swept the rugged terrain, dogs traced the trails, and volunteers scoured the mountain. Samuel’s truck was located at the Pine Springs trailhead, and the logbook confirmed they had signed in. But beyond that, there was nothing—no footprints, no abandoned gear, no signs of distress. After five exhausting days, the official search was scaled back, and the disappearance was chalked up to a likely hiking accident.

For Eleanor, that explanation never made sense. Samuel was known for his careful planning, and Simone was vibrant and curious. How could they just vanish without a trace? While life continued around her, Eleanor remained tied to that moment in 2000. She kept Samuel’s geology books untouched on the shelf and preserved Simone’s final sketchbook in a protective case. Friends encouraged her to move forward, but she clung to Samuel’s parting promise: “We’ll call you from the top.”

For 13 years, the questions lingered. Had they strayed from the trail? Been caught in a sudden storm? Or was something far more sinister behind their disappearance? Then, in September 2013, two experienced hikers exploring remote terrain well off the marked trails noticed a strip of fabric fluttering against a cliffside. When they drew closer, they discovered a sun-bleached tent anchored to a narrow ledge with heavy bolts. Inside were human remains, later confirmed by dental records to be Samuel and Simone.

The discovery only deepened the mystery. The ledge was difficult to reach, requiring climbing skills Samuel didn’t have. The bolts securing the tent weren’t typical for casual campers. Alongside the weathered belongings—two backpacks, a corroded stove, and Simone’s sketchbook—was a chilling drawing. It showed Simone and Samuel hiking together, followed by a third figure in a wide-brimmed hat. The figure’s eyes were shaded, and next to it Simone had written a name: “Caleb.”

Detective Angela Miller, reviewing the case, connected the sketch to a 1999 report about a man named Caleb Brody who had harassed a family near Guadalupe Peak. Brody once lived near the park and briefly worked for a concessionaire before selling his land and moving away soon after the Joneses vanished. When investigators found him in Oregon, he denied knowing Samuel or Simone. With no physical evidence tying him to the case, the district attorney declined to press charges, and the official cause of death remained undetermined.

Some searchers later admitted that early assumptions—that the pair had simply gotten lost—may have limited the investigation. To Eleanor, Simone’s sketchbook became both a personal treasure and a haunting reminder that every clue matters in missing-person cases. She continues to share their story publicly, urging that future searches leave no trail unexplored and no possibility dismissed.

Samuel and Simone set out to share a night under the stars, bound by love and curiosity. Instead, their journey became one of West Texas’s most enduring mysteries. The maps, notes, and sketches they left behind remain testaments to their lives, carrying with them the lingering questions that still echo in the shadows of Guadalupe Peak.