A Blueprint for Solving Cold Cases of Missing Native Relatives
Maria David still has her father’s half-finished puppets, carvings meant to tell Tla-o-qui-aht stories that now will never be told. It took nine years to convict his killer.
George David was a master carver. Born into the Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation of Vancouver Island, he spent decades working in cedar and silver, creating totem poles and masks that told his people’s stories. His work traveled the world, with pieces displayed in museums in Norway and Japan. Two canoes he carved mark Chief Seattle’s gravesite in Washington State.
In March 2016, David was 65 and living in Neah Bay, Washington. When family called about a funeral in British Columbia, he packed a bag and caught the bus to Port Angeles to make the ferry connection. A friend offered him a place to stay overnight.
Two days later, police found David dead in that apartment. Someone had beaten him to death.
The Port Angeles Police Department opened a homicide investigation, and within weeks, detectives identified Tina Marie Alcorn as their primary suspect. They arrested her in April on an unrelated warrant from Arkansas, but they didn’t have enough evidence to charge her with David’s murder. She was extradited to Arkansas for a probation violation on a theft conviction, and the homicide case went cold.
David’s family waited for answers, but years passed, and the case file gathered dust. This is how it usually goes when a Native person is murdered. Investigations stall, evidence sits unexamined, and families hear nothing.
The numbers tell the story. Native Americans face violence at rates 2.5 times higher than other Americans. Homicide is the third leading cause of death for both Native women and Native men. More than 84% of Native women have experienced violence in their lifetime. In Washington State, Native people make up 3% of the population but 7% of the missing persons list.
Most local police departments lack the resources to maintain active cold case investigations. Smaller jurisdictions can’t afford dedicated investigators or advanced forensic work, so cases sit unsolved for decades.
How the Unit Broke the Case
In 2021, Washington’s Attorney General decided to find out why. The office convened a task force that spent a year studying the crisis. They talked to families, reviewed case files, and examined what happened when Native people went missing or turned up murdered.
The task force found what families already knew: the system was failing them. They recommended creating something that didn’t exist anywhere in the country, a cold case unit focused exclusively on missing and murdered Native people, housed in the Attorney General’s office with state-level resources.
The state Legislature passed the bill unanimously in 2023, and Governor Jay Inslee signed it into law, making Washington the first state to try this approach.
The unit hired Brian George, a 27-year law enforcement veteran and enrolled member of the Port Gamble S’Klallam Tribe, as chief investigator. It secured $1.5 million from the federal Emmett Till Cold Case Investigations and Prosecution Grant, the largest amount the program had ever awarded. That money hired case navigators to stay in contact with families during investigations.
Then the unit went to work. Investigators began reviewing unsolved cases, reaching out to local departments, and reexamining old evidence with new forensic techniques.
In 2024, Port Angeles police called about George David’s case. Could the cold case unit take another look?
Investigators pulled the evidence collected in 2016 and sent it to the Washington State Patrol Crime Lab for additional DNA analysis. The lab found what the original investigation had missed. In June 2025, police arrested Alcorn in West Helena, Arkansas. She was extradited back to Washington and charged with second-degree murder.
Alcorn pleaded guilty, and on December 15, 2025, a judge sentenced her to more than 13 years in prison with an enhancement for being armed during the crime. The conviction marked the cold case unit’s first success.
“We were able to bring justice in this case because of the hard work of our cold case team in collaboration with local law enforcement,” Attorney General Nick Brown said. “I commend the hard work of the Port Angeles Police Department, who never gave up on this case.”
A Model Takes Shape
The unit now has 25 active investigations and has helped locate more than 20 missing Native people. State Representative Debra Lekanoff, who championed the legislation creating the unit, has watched families reunite with relatives they thought were lost forever.
“We have saved lives, we have brought families together,” Lekanoff said. “I have had the pleasure of welcoming home members whom we thought we had lost.”
Other states are watching Washington’s experiment. The model combines state funding, federal grants, cultural knowledge, and partnerships with tribal law enforcement. Early results suggest it works.
But one unit cannot solve decades of unsolved murders across an entire state. The unit operates only when local agencies ask for help and cannot take over cases. Tribal leaders are pushing for expansion, more investigators, and bigger budgets.
Still, George David’s case proves something. When states commit real resources to Native victims, cold cases can be solved. DNA gets analyzed. Suspects get charged. Families get answers.
Maria David can’t get her father back. She can’t see the stories his unfinished carvings would have told. But she knows what happened. She knows someone is being held accountable.
“Indian artwork is a way for us to tell our stories,” she said. “And his stories can no longer be told.”
