Native News

Forensic DNA breaks new ground for MMIP cold cases

woman smiling
Krystal Tsosie, Diné, stands before a mural in Eagle Butte, S.D., on the Cheyenne River Reservation. Tsosie is a geneticist, epidemiologist and advocate who has begun working toward returning control of Indigenous DNA information back to individuals and tribes, an effort she calls "DataBack."
Photo courtesy of Krystal Tsosie | ICT

By: Mary Annette Pember, ICT

The sight of a room full of human cadavers can be off-putting for some, but not for Haley Omeasoo.

Omeasoo, a citizen of the Hopi Tribe and a descendant of the Blackfeet Nation, encountered the cadavers as part of a high school class trip to the University of Montana, where she spent time in a college level anatomy class.

“Some people go there and pass out, but I thought, ‘This is pretty cool,’” she told ICT.

That visit to the University of Montana was a defining moment for the budding scientist. She realized that by gaining expertise in rapidly advancing forensic technology she could help put Indigenous peoples on equal footing with scientific research that has often targeted them but has seldom been used for their benefit.

This imbalance of power is especially evident in the booming business and study of human DNA data, such as that generated by investigative genetic genealogical, or IGG, testing.

For Omeasoo, forensic science is deeply personal. In 2017, her friend and classmate, Ashley Loring Heavy Runner went missing from her home in Browning, Montana, on the Blackfeet Reservation. Loring Heavy Runner has still not been found and no charges have been filed in the case.In fact, Omeasoo’s comfort level and lack of squeamishness convinced her to pursue studies in forensics and how DNA can be used to solve crime and identify human remains, especially among Indigenous peoples.

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Haley Omeasoo is founder of Ohkomi Forensics, one of the first Indigenous controlled DNA databases.
Photo courtesy of Haley Omeasoo | ICT

Raised in Browning on the Blackfeet Reservation, Omeasoo has long wanted to apply the study of forensics to help solve cases of missing and murdered people and identify human remains so that ancestors can be brought home.

Using the science of genetic genealogical testing of DNA seemed to be a perfect fit, so at the age of 27, in 2024, she launched a nonprofit organization, Ohkomi Forensics. In the Blackfeet language, Ohkomi means “to use one’s voice.”

She is now working to build the first Indigenous-controlled DNA database of Blackfeet people.

“There are so many cases like Ashley’s that have gone unsolved,” she said, “and so many families that have not received closure, answers or justice pertaining to their family members' cases."

Using DNA for MMIP

Public interest in learning about ancestry helped fuel growth of direct-to-consumer DNA testing sites such as 23andMe and Ancestry, which use genetic genealogical testing.

The potential applications for the huge databases created by these companies can seem to be drawn from the annals of science fiction. Beyond offering insight into a person’s ancestry, the technology can be used to solve crimes, identify and predict genetic disorders, confirm a health diagnosis and determine which drugs work best for individuals, among myriad applications.

Although genetic testing has the power to offer a measure of healing for families and communities suffering from losses of loved ones, there is also potential for misuse of the data, however.

Native people know all too well about unethical practices of researchers and their lack of culturally safe methodologies. They often have concerns about data ownership and privacy stemming from historical injustices and marginalization.

For instance, researchers gathering data for a Havasupai diabetes study used tissue samples for other purposes unrelated to the initial study without informed consent. In 2010, Arizona State University agreed to pay $700,000 to 41 members of the tribe to settle claims about the misuse.

The Bureau of Indian Affairs estimates that there are more than 4,000 missing and murdered cases of Native people that are unsolved, though law enforcement and advocates agree that that actual number is likely much higher. And for the country at large, the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, NamUS, reports that as many as 600,000 people are reported missing annually, with more than 11,000 sets of unidentified human remains held by medical examiners and coroners.

Omeasoo’s efforts to develop tribal expertise in IGG is especially timely. In February, the BIA’s Missing and Murdered Unit announced its partnership with Othram, a private Texas-based company that uses IGG or forensic genetic genealogy, known as FGG, to help identify human remains as part of the agency’s Operation Spirit Return.

‘Cultural concerns’

Omeasoo has long been interested in advancing and understanding the drivers of violence against Native women. Her master’s degree research at the University of Montana in forensic anthropology helped sharpen her focus on how forensics can be used to address high rates of missing and murdered Indigenous peoples. She identified a correlation between skull fracture patterns and intimate partner or domestic violence.

“I found that Native American women between the ages of 25 to 44 were more likely to display these fracture patterns in association with domestic violence situations,” Omeasoo said.

She notes that research correlating domestic violence to the high rates of MMIP in Indigenous communities is still emerging, but her work helps make that connection.

The master’s research led her to take a deeper dive into how DNA analysis could assist tribes in addressing the MMIP crisis.

Omeasoo’s doctoral research at the University of Montana in the forensic and molecular anthropology program examined the ethical considerations of performing genetic analysis on Indigenous peoples and human remains.

Her work is also imbued with a belief in interconnectedness, in which all living things, including humans, are related and interdependent, a belief that is central to most Native cultures.

Omeasoo is currently working with Blackfeet tribal members, leaders and elders to determine cultural protocols for collecting and using DNA data. For instance, in response to concerns about the destructive nature of DNA analysis when working with human remains, she uses a method that doesn’t require the use of bone powder.

“For some tribes, giving up DNA is giving up a part of yourself; there are a lot of cultural concerns surrounding that,” Omeasoo said.

She will receive her doctorate in May.

Follow the money

In years past, Native people were often discouraged or turned away by police when asking to submit DNA for comparison with unidentified remains.

Cost was often a barrier, according to Amanda Takes War Bonnet-Beauvais, public education specialist with the Native Women’s Society of the Great Plains.

But as consumer DNA testing companies began cashing in on the public’s interest in ancestry, they began offering the service at prices around $100, encouraging many people – including Native Americans - to submit their DNA to the sites.

“What started with one of us in our family doing a DNA test soon spread to other members,” Takes War Bonnet-Beauvais told ICT. “There are so many Native Americans on ancestry DNA sites now.”

Takes War Bonnet-Beauvais, of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, is a former journalist with Indian Country Today and has researched the history and ancestry of her family and tribe.

The recent bankruptcy of the popular consumer genetic company, 23andMe, however, is shining a light on the potential monetary value of genetic databases and the dearth of privacy regulations protecting sensitive and personal information.

In its contract with customers, 23andMe states that there is a possibility that its data would be sold if it goes into bankruptcy. The company’s profit was tied to the public’s demand for ancestry DNA testing kits, but as interest declined so did the company’s profits.

But its enormous data set, which includes about 15 million DNA samples, could be invaluable for some industries. According to Fortune Business Insights, the global forensic technology market, which includes IGG data, was valued at $5.65 billion in 2024 and is expected to rise to nearly $10 billion by 2032.

Medical, pharmaceutical and forensic industries, often backed by wealthy venture capitalist groups, are in a race to acquire these rich databases. Investors such as Gigafund, a venture capitalist firm that has investments in futuristic companies such as billionaire Elon Musk’s SpaceX and Neurolink, are also betting on the value of DNA and genetic data.

In 2021, Gigafund invested $18 million in Othram, a company specializing in forensic genetic genealogy, or FGG. In the meantime, the public is struggling to understand the entirety of uses for genetic data.

GEDMatch, a company that compares DNA samples among companies and whose work helped identify the Golden State Killer in California in 2018, acknowledged the uncertainties in its terms-of-service page.

“We cannot predict what the future holds for DNA or genealogy research,” according to terms of service from GEDMatch. “We cannot predict what the future will be for GEDmatch. It is possible that, in the future, GEDmatch will merge with, or operations will be transferred to other individuals or entities.”

In a study released in 2024 by the Center for Medical Ethics and Health Policy at Baylor College of Medicine in Houston and the Department of Bioethics and Humanities at the University of Washington in Seattle, researchers interviewed experts working in the IGG industry. One genetic genealogist summarized the nascent industry as the “Wild, Wild West.”

“I don’t know who, or what companies specifically, would want to buy 23andMe,” Katie Hasson, associate director at the Center for Genetics and Society told the Washington Post in a recent interview. “But we are seeing the ways that our personal data is being vacuumed up and collated, and sold to different companies for marketing, targeting for ads, and who knows where it goes from there.”

Gigafund did not respond to an email request for comment from ICT asking about its interest in IGG or the company’s speculation about future uses for the technology.

‘More resources’

Many in Indian Country, however, are more concerned with the immediate benefits for their communities.

“More resources, more help, it’s always going to be a good thing, especially when we’re in crisis mode of our people going missing,” Lummi Nation Chairman Anthony Hillaire told the Cascadia Daily News regarding additional funding allocated by the Washington state legislature for DNA testing of unidentified remains.

“Thanks to the BIA Missing and Murdered Unit and its partners, our Operation Initiative will help return missing relatives to their families, so that they can be comforted knowing their loved ones have come home,” said Bryan Mercier, director of the BIA, exercising the delegated authority of the Assistant Secretary for Indian Affairs in a February 2025 press release.

“We’ve approved 15 cases so far for the testing process,” William Horton, regional agent in charge of the BIA’s Missing and Murdered Unit, told ICT.

In January, investigators identified the remains of Michelle Elbow Shield, a 26-year-old mother of two reported missing by her family in December 2023, according to Horton. Elbow Shield was a citizen of the Oglala Lakota tribe and lived in Rapid City.

The Rapid City Police and BIA are still investigating the case. The BIA contracts with Othram, and a direct DNA sample provided by a relative allowed investigators to confirm Elbow Shield's identity.

The BIA has long used DNA as an investigative tool through databases such as the Combined DNA Index System, known as CODIS, which is maintained by the FBI, Horton said.

But the DNA data kept in CODIS is from people who have been arrested or convicted of serious crimes and consists of sequences of DNA known as short tandem repeat, or STR, that can identify an individual using 13 to 20 markers. An STR profile can be used to identify and compare DNA samples from crime scenes and convicted offenders.

But the technology used by direct-to-consumer genetic testing companies such as Ancestry, 23andMe or MyHeritage is based on genetic genealogy, a blend of DNA analysis and genealogic research. It examines far smaller bits of DNA — up to 500,000 single nucleotides instead of segments — and can identify not only an individual but even very distant relatives, providing information about appearance and health.

In criminal investigations, this technique is called forensic genetic genealogy, FGG, or investigative genetic genealogy, IGG. It can also be used to amplify very small samples of DNA through techniques such as polymerase chain reaction, PCR. Using amplification techniques like PCR , scientists can produce millions of copies of specific DNA segments to create a profile even from trace or degraded bits of DNA. The implications for solving cold cases and identifying human remains are massive.

David Mittleman, chief executive officer of Othram explains how it works.

“Think of DNA like a radar system — when we search a DNA profile, we don’t usually get an exact match, but we do get ‘pings’ from people who share some DNA with the unknown person,” he said. “These pings don’t tell us physical distance, like a traditional radar, but instead reveal genetic distance — how closely related two people are.”

The company uses what is called Forensic Grade Genome Sequencing, or FGGS, to create a detailed DNA profile, which is then compared to a database of people who voluntarily shared their DNA for genealogical research.

“Traditional forensic DNA testing, like what’s used in CODIS, only works if an exact match is already in the system — like a direct suspect or a close relative,” Mittleman said. “When we run this search, we get a radar-like map of genetic relatives—some close, some distant. From there, we work with investigators to piece together family connections, building a path that can lead to identifying the unknown person or suspect.”

Othram works directly with law enforcement but also operates DNASolves, a database that allows the public to upload their DNA data already purchased from direct-to-consumer databases for free. It also allows the public to upload their DNA directly for testing for a fee.

Othram did not respond to ICT about cost, but other forensic testing sites charge between $200 to $1,500 for the service, which doesn’t provide any ancestry or health information for the client.

DNASolves uses crowdfunding and public donations to fund its work. Othram, however, is a for-profit company that charges law enforcement for its services. The company also includes other public “consented” databases in its searches.

For those people participating in BIA investigations, testing is paid for by the agency, according to Mittleman.

In addition to lab techniques, forensic genealogy also uses Artificial Intelligence, AI-driven analysis to interpret genetic relationships, he said.

Mittleman said Othram works only with forensic data.

“Since we don’t want to create any concerns, we completely avoid the medical space,” he said.

Since genetic genealogy can identify so many distant generations of relatives from just one sample, the more people who submit DNA to such data bases, the more powerful the data becomes, potentially showing connections among entire populations.

Krystal Tsosie, Diné, a geneticist and epidemiologist at Arizona State University, notes that due to smaller population sizes among Native communities, even a single individual's genomic data can reveal connections to many relatives.

woman smiling
Krystal Tsosie, Diné, stands before a mural in Eagle Butte, S.D., on the Cheyenne River Reservation. Tsosie is a geneticist, epidemiologist and advocate who has begun working toward returning control of Indigenous DNA information back to individuals and tribes, an effort she calls "DataBack."
Photo courtesy of Krystal Tsosie | ICT

So Omeasoo’s goal of obtaining 100 DNA samples from Blackfeet citizens whose entire population is around 15,000 could link thousands of people, making the resulting data set incredibly revealing.

According to a study published in the Columbia Science Technology Law Review in 2019, a database only needs to cover approximately 2 percent of a population in order to provide a third-person match to nearly every person in that population.

Cece Moore, actress and genetic genealogist, spoke of the crime-solving potential of genetic genealogy in an interview with the Intercept.

“I really believe we can stop serial killers from existing, stop serial rapists from existing,” said Moore, who has worked for the popular PBS show, “Finding Your Roots.”

Indeed, in 2018 data from a public genetic genealogy website helped police catch Joseph DeAngelo, the Golden State Killer, alleged to be responsible for at least a dozen murders and about 50 rapes in California during the 1970s and 1980s.

One of DeAngelo’s distant relatives uploaded their DNA profile created by a direct-to-consumer company to a free, public website in which users agree that their data can be used by law enforcement. There is no broad federal law in the U.S. specifically governing use of direct-to-consumer genetic testing, and different states have their own rules about genomic privacy and how genetic data can be used.

Some states are strict about unauthorized use of genetic info, while others are more relaxed. Because of privacy concerns, states like Maryland and Montana now require search warrants for accessing consumer DNA databases.

The DNA data held by 23andMe was off limits to law enforcement without a search warrant, but if the data is sold, there’s no guarantee on how it would be used. Officials, however, didn’t need a court order to search the public site, GEDMatch, where DeAngelo’s relative had uploaded their data. Police obtained a sample of DeAngelo’s DNA from a trash can in order to match him with the available evidence. Many public sites such as GEDMatch and FamilyTreeDNA allow users to use their DNA to find relatives and explore family history. They also allow users to opt-in to database searches by law enforcement.

Laws are also lax on how genetic testing can be used to reveal information about people’s risks for certain diseases and other health problems. The data isn’t protected by the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, known as HIPAA, unless the DNA was submitted as part of a person’s health care.

Critics caution that the large and rich datasets could be of interest to industries such as health insurance companies to identify customers with increased health risks, by pharmaceutical companies to market drugs to people with certain conditions, and by market researchers to understand consumer preferences and behaviors and other uses.

The Electronic Frontier Foundation, a nonprofit organization defending civil liberties, argues that law enforcement use of IGG or FGG data is unconstitutional, violating the Fourth Amendment prohibiting unreasonable searches and seizures.

Critics further caution that law enforcement and government could use the data for surveillance or to prosecute less-serious crimes.

In recognition of such concerns Moore launched a new nonprofit database, the DNA Justice Foundation, that caters only to law enforcement.

Data sovereignty

Community control of data is central to Omeasoo’s work and that of other Native scientists.

For instance, Tsosie leads a movement called "DataBack" aimed at returning control of Indigenous genomic data to Native peoples and their tribes and emphasizing the importance of genomic health equity.

Tsosie, an assistant professor at Arizona State University’s School of Life Sciences, advocates for more Indigenous scientists and leaders to reclaim control over their DNA data and emphasizes the need for global recognition of Indigenous data sovereignty as a fundamental right.

In her Ph.D dissertation, Omeasoo explored why DNA analysis can be controversial from an Indigenous perspective.

She noted, for instance, that DNA research could be used to trace Indigenous migration patterns throughout the world and in the process re-import racist categories into science. This research, she writes, becomes a powerful tool for colonizing states to appropriate Indigenous bodies, living and dead, reducing them to cultural artifacts supporting Western academic knowledge without the added benefit of Indigenous knowledge and perspective.

DNA data surrounding health is also concerning for many Native people, according to Omeasoo. Researchers have long pursued proof of the thrifty gene hypothesis, suggesting a single gene predisposes Indigenous peoples to type 2 diabetes.

According to studies by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, Native Americans are 1.5 times more likely to be diagnosed with type 2 diabetes than other populations. Among Native people in the U.S., researchers have maintained that the Akimel O’oodham or Pima tribes which includes the Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community, are reputed to have the highest rates of the disease in the world, rates attributable to genetic predisposition.

But more in-depth genetic studies of the hypothesis in connection to the Akimel O’Oodham have shown that the population shows no genetic evidence to support the thrifty gene theory. Rather, the high rates of type 2 diabetes are attributed to complex environmental, economic and social factors.


Embracing the future

Omeasoo is currently working to identify human remains, likely of the Blackfeet tribe, that are part of a collection of Indigenous remains held by the University of Montana.

Before beginning the work, however, Omeasoo had the research approved by the Blackfeet Nation’s institutional review board which oversees research within the community, ensuring ethical treatment and protecting Indigenous knowledge and communities from harm.

Omeasoo advertised information to the community about the project which also includes a goal of solving MMIP cases. “Participation is 100 percent voluntary,” she said.

She collected 105 samples in less than two hours. Her goal was 100 samples.

“We advertised for about a month or so to get the word out and set up the collection site; the community really showed up,” Omeasoo said.

“We aren’t looking at the whole genome [which reveals health factors] in this project, which was what the community was concerned about; we are only looking at family heritage,” she said.

Omeasoo sees the project as a pilot study that other tribes may embrace in the future.

“Hopefully it will show other tribes that the system works to identify our family members and bring them home without paying these large companies,” she said.

According to Omeasoo, this would allow tribes to ensure data sovereignty.

Looking ahead

Omeasoo is currently looking for additional sponsors and donors to support Ohkomi.

Early on, she received $25,000 from podcast network Audiochuck, whose founder and chief creative officer Ashley Flowers also founded Season of Justice, a nonprofit organization that provides funding for investigative agencies and families to help solve cold cases.  Audiochuck produces "Crime Junkie," a popular true-crime podcast that has aired several episodes dedicated to exploring MMIP cases.

The donation allowed Omeasoo to purchase her own field equipment.

“Aside from our lab work, we actually go out and search for missing people, too,” she said. “There are no strings attached to Season of Justice’s funding which is so cool.”

Indigenous DNA testing sites have not attracted the interest of venture capitalists like Gigafund.

Okhomi buys DNA testing kits from Qiagen, a company offering technology and testing DNA testing products

“They (Qiagen) just sell me the testing kits; I do all the work and then the tribe is able to own its own database,” she said.

Omeasoo is working on building relationships with law enforcement both on and off the reservation. “Sometimes tribal law enforcement isn’t very receptive to outside help but since Okhomi comes from the community, I’m hoping to establish and build trust,” she said.

The goal is to test and solve cases on a local level.

“Since I work at the University of Montana’s forensics lab, we have a memo of understanding with the Montana State Crime lab,” she said.

The pain of searching for loved ones strikes an intimate chord for Omeasoo, who is a mother of two.

“There are so many families that are still looking for answers within our tribe and across the nation,” Omeasoo said. “As Indigenous people we are all impacted by this issue; just one person giving their DNA could possibly give a family a chance for knowledge and relief.”

Mittleman agrees.

“Getting families pieced back together by finding their loved ones and catching people who do bad things and exonerating those wrongly accused of doing bad things is our focus at Othram,” he said.

Neither Okhomi nor Othram claim ownership or control of DNA data in their databases.

“If we take someone’s DNA, they sign a consent form indicating exactly what it's being used for,” said Horton, the regional BIA agent. “It will not be available to any of these civilian databases.”

Mittle said the protections are important.

“I don’t think it’s a shock that Native American communities would be suspicious or concerned about how their data is used; they haven’t necessarily been treated well by the government over the years,’ Mittleman said. "No one wants to see a rapist or murderer go free, but they also want to feel comfortable that their data is being used for their intended purposes.”

In the end, Horton hopes that DNA testing can bring closure to Native American families whose loved ones are missing or have been victims of crimes.

Omeasoo envisions working directly with law enforcement and other accredited forensic companies in order to offer truth, healing and reconciliation to Native communities and beyond.

Her vision could soon become a reality. In April, the Department of Justice announced a surge in FBI efforts to solve violent crime in Indian Country.

“After all,” she said, “We’re all kind of related somehow.”