August 8, 2002

CHEYENNE -- From a home office nestled beneath a butte on 40 acres of ranchland roamed by half a dozen dogs and some antelope, Janet Franson of Clark, Wyo. pesters police all over the state asking them not to forget.

She calls cops in Wyoming's bigger cities and needles small-town sheriff's departments more than 300 miles away to remind them there is a case they still haven't solved.

It's not personal. The victim isn't a friend or a family member. Often it's a murder victim. Sometimes it's a missing person. All the cases are more than 10 years old, considered "cold cases" in law enforcement circles and despite the time lapse, Franson says with a little attention they can be solved.

She's passionate about the cause, even if she doesn't know the victims -- in fact, she wasn't even living in Wyoming when the crimes were committed. But she knows the case is personal to someone.

"There are families and friends who still mourn for these victims," she says.

They are mothers, daughters, sons and grandfathers. Some walked off, never to be seen again. Others were killed in their homes. Some disappeared hiking in the woods or hitchhiking along the highway. One was headed to the movies. Another was found in her car. They are young and old. White and American Indian. From Cheyenne and Jackson. Stabbed, shot, sexually assaulted.

The one thing they all have in common now is Franson. She keeps a file on each case atop her desk, hoping, she says, that soon they will be marked "solved." Franson is a 20-year veteran homicide detective who moved back to her native Wyoming two years ago to retire.

Some people spend their retirement reading murder mysteries. Franson tried that and about a month ago decided to spend her free time attempting to solve real crimes. She joined a group of current and former law enforcement officers who work on cold cases - for free. Members of the Doe Network call police stations and sheriff's departments inquiring about the status of cold cases. They offer help and sometimes leads, but always work through the investigating department. Franson says in some cases that simple phone call is enough to spark a cop's interest to pull out a decades old file and look for new clues.

In Wyoming there are 12 cold cases, according to the Wyoming Division of Criminal Investigation's Web site. Of those, 10 are unsolved homicides and two are missing persons. But they aren't the only cold cases unsolved in the state.

DCI Director Steve Miller says the agency only lists a case on its site when a local agency requests the state do so.

"We cannot enter into a homicide case unless we are asked to become involved in the case," he says. "We don't force ourselves on anyone, nor should we." However, Miller says once the agency becomes involved in a case, it doesn't back down.

"We are constantly looking at these cases," he says, adding that the case becomes part of the agency's workload that includes looking for clandestine drug labs, investigating white-collar crime and pursuing Internet sex crimes. "But whenever we develop new evidence or techniques (the case) becomes a high priority."

The agency uses national fingerprinting and DNA databases to look for matches between victims and potential suspects. This fall, the agency will add a ballistics database to the mix that will look for matches in bullets and weapons used on a victim and recovered during other investigations.

"Often times they are arrested for something else," Miller says. "All you can do is constantly review these cases. With time and energy, you'll see some of these cases solved."

Miller says it's good an organization like the Doe Network has come to Wyoming.

"I'm glad to see law enforcement across the country looking at cold cases," he says. "No one wants to have an unsolved case on the books. And for the people who have been around here for a while like me and the director of the crime lab, you live with these cases. You never forget."

That same nagging feeling is what kept Franson working on an unsolved murder investigation that had been open for 17 years. She solved the Lakeland, Florida case just before retiring and moving here.

Now she calls every agency in Wyoming, Colorado and Utah that has a suspected unsolved homicide, kidnapping or missing person case and records updated case information on the national Doe Network Web site (www.doenetwork.org).

Doe Network policy forbids members from contacting the victim's family and friends, unless they contact the members first. But Franson says people close to the victim often have the best information.

"What we're hoping is these cases will come back into light and stir up some calls," she says. "Sometimes time works in your favor."

It's hard to keep a secret, she says, adding that murderers often tell a friend or family member about their crime, bragging that they got away with it. Sometimes it's a confession, but some use it as a threat to keep a new lover in line.

Franson says the network gives people a place to turn in information other than the police station.

"You got to make it easy for people to do the right thing," she says. "You're not going to get good, going-to-church-on-Sunday folk giving you information. A lot of times people don't want to talk to the cops for whatever reason. You have to realistic about this."

Franson says she turns all the information she receives over to the law enforcement agency handling the case, except the source if they ask to remain anonymous.

"We don't want to interfere with law enforcement," she says. "But maybe I have something that I might be able to use to help someone else."

Offering that help can be time consuming. Franson says it often takes her four or five phone calls before she reaches the right person and that she spends a lot of time explaining who she is and what the network does at every step of the process, only to end up in someone's voice mail box.

"It can be tedious," she said. "Every case involves a different agency. I've made the initial call on each of Wyoming's (16) cases and haven't talked to the same agency twice."

But Franson isn't discouraged and says now people know who she is and what she's doing. "The most important thing is it gets solved," she says. "Somebody somewhere knows. People can't keep their mouths shut. Either they brag or show remorse, but it's just human nature that we talk about what we do."

Franson wants people to know she'll listen.