Her last text was “Landed. Love you, Mama.” Days later, her burned body was found. The mystery of McKenzie Lueck’s disappearance stunned a city—and what police uncovered is more terrifying than anyone imagined. Read the full story behind the headlines, and see why this case has everyone talking.

Salt Lake City, Utah. June 2019. The city’s summer heat was matched only by the anxiety of a family desperate for answers. When 23-year-old McKenzie Lueck vanished after a late-night flight, her parents clung to hope, dialing police from their California home. All they wanted was a wellness check. All they got was a nightmare.

McKenzie’s last message to her mother was heartbreakingly ordinary—just a daughter letting her family know she was safe. But as hours turned into days and calls went unanswered, a chilling reality began to set in. The investigation that followed would expose a web of secrets, digital footprints, and a killer hiding in plain sight.

This is the story of a promising college student whose life ended in horror—and a community left reeling by the truth.

A Vanishing in the Night

McKenzie Lueck was a bright, ambitious student at the University of Utah, just two semesters from graduation. After attending her grandmother’s funeral in California, she returned to Salt Lake City on June 17th, texting her mother upon landing at 1:35 a.m. She planned to grab an Uber and head home. But she never arrived.

Her parents grew anxious. McKenzie’s phone was suddenly offline. Calls went straight to voicemail. Her roommates hadn’t seen her. She missed class. She missed work. She missed an online midterm. By June 20th, her father called Salt Lake City police, pleading for a wellness check.

Police searched her apartment—no suitcase, no signs of foul play, her car still parked outside. It was clear: McKenzie hadn’t made it home.

The Digital Trail

Investigators dug into her digital life. Surveillance at the airport confirmed she landed and left in a Lyft at 2:40 a.m., dropped off at Hatch Park in North Salt Lake at 2:59 a.m. Why a park at 3 a.m.? Who was she meeting?

Friends revealed a side of McKenzie her family never knew. She’d used Tinder and SeekingArrangement, a site for “sugar babies” and “sugar daddies.” She’d confided in friends about seeking confidence, working as a sugar baby, and even auditioning at a gentlemen’s club. Bank records showed unexplained deposits. Her last login to SeekingArrangement was just hours before vanishing.

Police tracked her phone activity. On June 17th, between 1:50 and 8:00 a.m., she’d texted one number eight times. That number belonged to Ayoola Ajayi, a Nigerian-born IT worker living in Salt Lake City—a man she’d met online.

The Suspect Emerges

Ajayi’s digital footprint was damning. His phone pinged at Hatch Park the same time as McKenzie’s. He’d been messaging her on the “TextMe” app. When questioned, Ajayi denied meeting McKenzie, claiming he only used the site for conversation. He offered up alibis, mentioned security cameras at his home, and insisted on his innocence.

But neighbors told police about a foul-smelling fire in Ajayi’s backyard the night McKenzie disappeared. Police searched his home, finding knives, a hammer, a gun, and a freshly dug patch of earth. A canine unit detected the scent of human remains.

Inside, police found a maze of security cameras—many pointed at the bed. A cleaning woman recalled Ajayi’s eerie charm and his request to bring her young daughter. A contractor described being asked to build a soundproof room with hooks and a fingerprint lock.

The Evidence Mounts

Ajayi’s car smelled of gasoline. Police found a red gas can identical to one he’d purchased the morning after McKenzie vanished. Surveillance showed his Kia at Hatch Park at 2:48 a.m., then leaving with McKenzie at 2:59 a.m.

In the backyard, police unearthed a human bone, charred muscle tissue, and a scalp with hair. McKenzie’s student ID and burned clothing were recovered from the Jordan River. The digital trail placed Ajayi at Logan Canyon days later—a remote area known for hiking and climbing.

On July 3rd, police found McKenzie’s body buried in a shallow grave, hands zip-tied, partially burned, and showing signs of blunt force trauma.

A Killer’s Double Life

The investigation revealed Ajayi’s disturbing history. He’d been discharged from the Utah National Guard, attempted modeling, and self-published a novel about a boy witnessing a burning murder. His ex-wife described years of abuse, threats, and violence. He’d been investigated for sexual assault in 2018—just over a year before McKenzie’s death.

Ajayi had asked a contractor to build a secret, soundproof room with hooks on the walls. He’d turned off his security cameras before meeting McKenzie and again when moving her body. He gave away the mattress where he’d killed her. Police discovered child pornography on his devices.

The motive was chillingly simple: murder for murder’s sake. Prosecutors said Ajayi only wanted to know what it felt like to kill someone.

A Community Shattered, A Family Forever Changed

Ajayi pleaded guilty to aggravated murder and desecration of a body, avoiding the death penalty but sentenced to life without parole. He was also convicted for a prior kidnapping and assault. The house where McKenzie died was put up for sale, but neighbors say its dark history will never fade.

McKenzie’s friends and family are left with grief and questions. Her father, Greg, mourned the loss of his “sweet, amazing young lady with the world ahead of her.” Instead of planning a graduation, he planned a memorial.

Salt Lake City will always remember McKenzie Lueck—not just for the horror she endured, but for the light she brought to those around her. Her story is a warning and a tragedy, a reminder of the dangers lurking behind digital screens and the importance of trusting your instincts.

What do you think about this chilling case? Share your thoughts below, and keep her memory alive by staying safe—and looking out for one another.