Mike Bauer

He never listened to any music, just the sounds of nature as he jogged along a maze of switchbacks and up a nearly 10,000-foot mountain.

By early evening, he looped back towards the parking lot.

But as the sun began to set, the shadows of trees and rocks grew until night engulfed the park.

That evening, I got a phone call saying that Deputy O.J.

is missing, that he didn't come back to his vehicle, and that they were gonna start some more extensive searching for him.

It's a pretty unique situation.

The sheriff's department is called in to look for a missing hiker who's one of their own.

So the search and rescue team sent out to look for Ajay consists of his friends and colleagues.

We took our teams out and deployed in two-man teams over the edges of the trails into the little nooks and crannies and the gullies that he could have slipped and fallen into.

But searchers find no trace of Ajay.

It was as if he just vanished into thin air.

And now, nearly 30 years later, the deputy is still missing.

I guess I'll open a box.

All that remains from Ajay's life is packed into five cardboard boxes.

The items are wrapped in plastic, and Bauer wears gloves as he combs through them.

This is John's work jacket.

And it's an SEB jacket with his name embroidered on it and Bosco, his dog.

Bauer's preserving Ajay's belongings for future developments in the case.

Okay, so here's his running shoes with his name on the back.

Those should have some DNA in them.