Elizabeth Pfeifer

Many people have no idea that I have a sister. Business associates, casual friends - I never say that I grew up with a little sister, three years younger. When they ask (it's always the curious ones) if I have siblings, I say no.

And that is true, because I have been an only child for the past 22 years.

My sister, Elizabeth Ann Pfeifer, disappeared into the night April 12, 1986.

She was at home in Katy, Texas, where we grew up. She lived there with my parents, I happened to be visiting that evening. She was getting ready to attend a party in North Katy, in a subdivision down Morton Road. She told me that she was going with five other people, one of whom we both knew. His name was Frank Henry, and he and I had an art class together in high school.

She left that evening and never returned.

I never saw her again.

My parents did not report her as missing until almost four weeks later. My mother said it was Elizabeth's habit to not show up from outings. My mother also confessed that she was not even worried about Elizabeth until everyone who knew her began calling, asking where she was.

It was a whirlwind after that. The police, my parents and me somehow caught in the middle. My parents talked with the police but were so upset by what happened that they quickly became overwhelmed. Or so they said. I do know that my mother developed severe nosebleeds that wouldn't stop and her blood pressure went through the roof. My father carried on as usual, but was extremely quiet and rather sullen.

I was a young mother at the time, and had just re-married the month before. Between raising my son and adjusting to married life in Houston, that was enough. To lose a sister in the process was heartbreaking.

My parents were busy finishing a home on the lake and retiring from their business. They were eager to leave and put the past behind them.

I was dumped with carrying the investigation forward, which turned out to be totally frustrating.

When the police wanted to see my sister's room, I was the one who showed them her things and let them into her area. I kept after them to continue the search and not give up on her. I was told that hiring a private investigator might help, but the best ones were expensive, and I did not have $10,000-15,000 to lay down for a retainer.

The people who held the party that Elizabeth was last seen at by her friends had picked up and moved away within a couple of weeks of her disappearance. The police told me there was no one to talk to at the home and they could not track them down. None of Elizabeth's friends had seen her, and they were completely worried and upset, fearing the worst.

Some people called in tips, saying they had seen my sister within a few months of her disappearance at honky-tonk bars in the Sealy, Texas, area. I never believed that. She had once dated a boy from the area but he had been murdered.

I tried my best to do what I could for Elizabeth and aid the search. The police were divided, stating that she could have just ran off. Course, she didn't take her purse with her, I said, and why would she forget her purse containing her ID and personal information, including money? Because people who want to start a new life often behave that way, the police told me. They leave everything behind and vanish.

Other investigators said she was dead. Then find her body, I thought! There's too much land around, I was told, and she could be anywhere - Buffalo Bayou, the ship channel, anywhere in Houston...even the rice fields that make up the perimeter of Katy. If she is dead, we will probably never find her.

None of these explanations sat well with me. I figured that someone murdered her. She was a violent alcoholic and abused several drugs of choice. I could see some unkind person easily preying upon her and then finishing her off. She was tiny and though strong, when intoxicated, she was completely at anyone's mercy.

My father's theory was that she overdosed and whoever she was with felt guilty and "dumped her body." I found that theory strange, but he was convinced it was the truth.

Elizabeth left my parents' home in Katy, Texas, in the early evening of Friday, April 12, 1986. She went with Frank Henry and four other friends in their vehicle to a party on the outskirts of Katy. The place was not far from my parent's home, in fact, under 10 miles.

While there, Elizabeth proceeded to become very drunk. This was typical behavior and her friends knew it. Around midnight, she left the party with an unknown man. Her friends knew she was leaving, but they did not know the person she left with. In fact, Elizabeth and her friends did not know the people who held the party. The group of friends went because they knew friends of friends of friends who were invited.

From there, the story gets messy. At first, however, the man that Elizabeth left the party with was found and questioned and he refused to talk to the police. He said that he knew nothing. Because there was no evidence, no body and no signs of foul play, the police told me there was no way to make this person talk to them. As the years went by, that same man was found to be in prison and the Katy PD went to speak with him. They told me that since he was incarcerated, they could force him to take a polygraph test. He told the police at that time that yes, he had left the party with my sister.

He took her to his apartment in Houston, on the east side. They had sex and used drugs. He then took her back to Katy. He said that they stopped at a gas station on North Mason Road and as he was filling up his vehicle with gas, Elizabeth left him. She acted like she knew the person she saw at the gas station. He drove a brown pickup truck.

This man passed the polygraph test, according to the police. He was married, and I never knew what his wife thought about him bringing Elizabeth home, or if she even knew that her husband was the supposed last person to see Elizabeth alive.

Someone, perhaps several people, know what happened to my sister. As I watched numerous crime stories, unsolved mystery cases and cold case files on television, I realized long ago that the chance that just one person on this planet knows exactly what happened to my sister is slim. People talk, people feel guilty and people confess. Others, shamed by what they hear, are either afraid to tell or become completely horrified by the knowledge, and want no part of it.

I can't blame anyone for hiding a secret that is almost 25 years old. We all have things that we don't want to share openly, just as I have hid the fact that I have a sister from the people I am casually acquainted with simply because I don't want to get emotional at work. Or with people that I don't know very well. It's none of their business. The people that I have told, over the years, are usually taken aback and sorry that they asked if I had a sibling.

So sometimes it's easier to just say something else.

In the case of having information that is vital to someone else's peace of mind, and crucial to solving a criminal case, it's better to tell the truth. I am publishing this story to get the word out about my sister. She was a beautiful, sweet, childlike woman who was never able to take care of herself. She has a birth mother out there, too, who the police are actively seeking to find for DNA evidence.

Don't you want to know what happened to your child? If it were one of my children, I would have gone mad long ago. The not knowing certainly would have killed me.

My father died in 1992 at the age of 65. Cancer ate him alive and, I think, guilt and remorse for not doing more. I guess he did the best that he could, but somehow he and my mother always seemed to act as if Elizabeth's disappearance was just too painful to deal with, so they swept it under the rug and pretended that it didn't happen.

I have not forgotten. Evidently others have not, as well. Gay Dickerson of the Katy PD is the investigator on my sister's case. She has moved heaven and earth to uncover what happened. She's gone so far as to get my sister's adoption records unsealed in Harris County. That is an ordeal I cannot even imagine.

I commend Gay for all that she's done. She contacted me in 2006 and is going strong as I write. Contact her at 281-391-4848 if you have ANY information about my sister.

At this time, she is seeking Elizabeth's old girlfriends. Gay says this is a trying task as women get married and their names change.

In addition, you may contact me. Any leads are welcome! We are leaving no stone unturned.

Someone, somewhere knows something. If you were told information about my sister at any point in time, please be courageous and come forth. Let me know what happened. It is one of my main missions in life to understand what happened to Elizabeth the night of April 12, 1986.

No one in my family ever stepped up to the plate to help. Although my mother's family is well-monied and could easily have paid for a private investigator when the case was fresh, people only said "sorry" and went about their lives.

Help me find my sister.

These are the links I've found that give information about Elizabeth. If you know of any others, please contact me and I will get them added.

Thank you, anonymous contributors who added my sister to your web sites, without ever knowing her. I appreciate your diligence and persistence - and the faith that by publicizing her case, she will be found.

And thank you to those who have created pages about my sister when I approached and asked that her case be publicized and shown. These people are volunteers who worked on my sister's case tirelessly and without asking for anything in return.

Elizabeth Ann Pfeifer 4/12/86

Texas Department of Public Safety

Faces of the Missing - 20+ Years: Elizabeth Ann Pfeifer

The Charley Project: Elizabeth Ann Pfeifer

Elizabeth Ann Pfeifer: The Kristen Foundation

The DOE Network: Case File 117DFTX

You see, Elizabeth was a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a cousin, a granddaughter, a neighbor, a friend and loved by many people. It doesn't matter that she grew up and became alcoholic or used drugs. Sometimes I think that the early investigators wrote her off because she was someone who lived on the edge and fringes of society.

Elizabeth Ann Pfeifer was a real person - help me to find her!

Elizabeth deserves to be recognized, heard, found and brought home.