Between 1971 and 1973, more than twenty-seven teenage boys disappeared from idyllic, tree-lined neighborhoods in Houston. This is the true story of how one dedicated forensic scientist finally identified the victims of the "Candy Man," one of America's most prolific serial killers.

Houston, Texas, in the early 1970s was an exciting place—the home of NASA, the city of the future. But a string of missing teenage boys, many from the same neighborhood, hinted at a dark undercurrent that would go ignored for too long. While their siblings and friends wondered where they’d gone, the Houston Police Department dismissed them as thrill-seeking runaways, fleeing the Vietnam draft or conservative parents, likely looking to get high and join the counterculture.

It was only after their killer, Dean Corll, was murdered by an accomplice that many of those boys’ bodies were discovered in mass graves. Known as the “Candy Man,” Corll was a local sweet shop owner who had enlisted two teenage boys to lure their friends to parties where they would be tortured and killed, and then buried.

All of Corll’s victims’ bodies were badly decomposed; some were only skeletal. Known collectively as the Lost Boys, many were never identified. Decades later, when forensic anthropologist Sharon Derrick discovered a box of remains marked “1973 Murders” in the Harris County Medical Examiner’s Office, she knew she had to act. It would take prison interviews with Corll’s accomplices, advanced scientific techniques, and years of tireless effort to identify the young men whose lives had been taken. But one by one, nearly all of their names have been returned to them.

Investigative journalist Lise Olsen immerses listeners in this astonishing story, simultaneously bringing to life the teens who were hunted by a killer hiding in plain sight and the extraordinary woman who would finally give his victims back their dignity and their names. The upside-down murder mystery reveals new information about this case and astonishing facts about why these victims were forgotten in the 1970s—and why what happened to them remains relevant.