Lori Hacking entered the world on December 31, 1976, and within months, she was adopted into a loving, faith-driven family. Her adoptive parents—Thelma and Eraldo Soares—wove her early life with threads of spiritual devotion and cultural richness. Raised between California and Brazil, Lori was immersed in both Mormon traditions and her father’s native Brazilian heritage. Eraldo, a language teacher, and Thelma, whom he met during missionary work in Rio, instilled in her a strong moral compass.
But stability shattered at age 12 when Eraldo left the family for a younger woman. The divorce ruptured the foundation Lori Hacking had known. A year later, she and her mother started over in Orem, Utah—a town steeped in conservative Mormon values.
In Utah, Lori Hacking quickly found her footing. She thrived in school, formed close friendships, and proudly built her independence. At 16, she was already driving herself to class in a car her father had given her and working at a local car wash to earn her own money. Still, she sometimes felt like an outsider in a town where most families followed a more traditional mold.
That sense of separation began to fade when she met Mark Hacking.
A Love That Promised Everything
Lori Hacking and Mark were the same age, both born in 1976. Their connection began on a school camping trip and deepened over time. Mark came from a large, well-regarded Mormon family. He was confident, charismatic, and ambitious—determined to become a doctor like his father. Lori saw in Mark a future filled with promise.
But even in those early days, cracks formed. During his Mormon mission in Canada, Mark was sent home early after breaking church rules. Embarrassed, he lied about the circumstances—a pattern that would define the relationship.
Still, their bond endured. Lori Hacking was a focused student at Weber State University, studying business and political science with such diligence that she earned a scholarship and eventually transferred to the University of Utah. There, she continued to excel and received the prestigious President’s Award for Academic Achievement.
A Marriage of Devotion and Dreams
By August 1999, Lori Hacking and Mark were married. She had completed her degree and secured a reliable job at a bank. Mark took a position as a pediatric medical assistant. Though it wasn’t the medical career he envisioned, he was well-liked and praised for his rapport with children.
Behind the smiles, however, Mark was quietly unraveling. His dream of becoming a doctor felt increasingly out of reach, and financial stress weighed heavily on them. Lori, always steady and supportive, became the foundation he leaned on.
So when Mark announced he’d been accepted to medical school at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Lori’s faith in their shared dream surged. She was overjoyed. They told their families, resigned from work, and began preparing to move cross-country.
But it was all fiction.
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A Web of Lies
Mark hadn’t been accepted to medical school. He hadn’t even applied. The letter was a fabrication—one of many. As the move drew near, the lie grew larger, harder to maintain.
Then came news that made Lori Hacking even more hopeful: she was pregnant. It was the life she had long dreamed of—love, family, a new chapter. She clung to it with everything she had.
Mark seemed buoyed by the news as well. He returned home one day with a smile and claimed he’d secured financial aid and university housing. Lori Hacking believed him. Why wouldn’t she?
Everything finally seemed to align. Their future, though uncertain, appeared full of promise.
But as the days passed, friends sensed a change. Lori Hacking was glowing with anticipation. Mark, on the other hand, grew distant—detached in a way that felt unfamiliar. He wasn’t talking much. He wasn’t himself.
No one could have imagined the dark truth hiding beneath the surface.
An Urgent Call
July 19, 2004. At 10:49 in the morning, a call came through to emergency services in Salt Lake City. Mark Hacking, breathless and anxious, reported that his wife, Lori, was missing. According to him, she had left around 6:00 AM for her usual jog but never returned. Not only that—she hadn’t shown up for work either, despite being days away from leaving her job. Lori Hacking, always punctual and dependable, had simply vanished.
What made the situation even more urgent was Lori’s pregnancy. Mark insisted that under normal circumstances, he might have waited longer to raise the alarm—but a missing pregnant woman? That was different. Officers were dispatched immediately. While search teams began sweeping the parks and trails near the couple’s home, another team initiated a standard protocol in disappearances like this: examine the spouse.
Later that day, Lori’s car was discovered parked at a local trailhead. It looked like it belonged—until detectives looked closer. The vehicle was unlocked, the keys missing. Odd, but not unheard of. What truly stood out was the position of the driver’s seat—it was pushed too far back for Lori, who was petite, to have comfortably reached the pedals.
False Hope, Lingering Questions
A witness initially claimed to have seen Lori that morning. For a few hours, it sparked hope—but the sighting was a mistake. The more investigators searched, the more unsettling the silence became. There were no signs of a struggle. No discarded belongings. No clothing, no phone. Just an empty trail and a growing mystery.
That evening, Mark Hacking stood before the cameras—tears in his eyes, voice breaking as he begged for help. His pain seemed raw, his words sincere. He thanked searchers and asked the public to keep Lori in their prayers.
But while the community watched a grieving husband on the news, investigators were seeing something different behind the scenes.
The investigation developed in two directions. First: a random act of violence on a morning jog. Second: that someone close to Lori Hacking—possibly Mark—knew more than they were saying. Adding to the fear was the region’s history: three other people had disappeared in recent months. Could Lori have become another statistic?
Too Clean for Comfort
When police visited the couple’s apartment, Mark let them in without hesitation. He answered questions calmly and seemed cooperative. But something was off. The place was spotless. Almost sterile. The bathroom in particular reeked of cleaning products—bleach and disinfectant.
Detectives noted an odd detail: packaging from a newly purchased mattress and bedding. When asked, Mark said Lori had stained the mattress and he’d replaced it. A strange explanation, especially since she was pregnant.
What police uncovered next shifted the case dramatically. On the morning of Lori’s disappearance—at 10:23 AM, just 26 minutes before his 911 call—Mark had purchased a new mattress. That contradicted his original statement that he’d been out searching for Lori Hacking.
Confronted with the receipt, Mark’s story changed. He claimed he’d gone out earlier, “just browsing” for mattresses and couldn’t remember the store name. Only that it was near an RC Willey. Investigators noted the vagueness—and the lies.
The next day, July 20, police were called to a strange scene. Mark Hacking had been spotted wandering the streets of Salt Lake City. Naked. Wearing only flip-flops. A concerned passerby called emergency services.
Whatever had been holding Mark together had finally snapped.
The Breakdown—or a Distraction?
Just one day after reporting his wife missing, Mark Hacking was found wandering Salt Lake City’s streets wearing nothing but flip-flops. First responders took him to a psychiatric hospital, where he claimed he was suffering a mental breakdown brought on by the stress of Lori’s disappearance.
But investigators weren’t buying it.
To them, it looked less like trauma and more like strategy—a move to escape the tightening grip of suspicion.
The true breakthrough came not from forensic evidence, but from a quiet voice at Lori’s workplace. A coworker approached detectives and recalled a moment from July 15—just four days before Lori Hacking vanished.
That afternoon, Lori Hacking had received a phone call from the University of North Carolina. She had reached out to inquire about student loans. Whatever she learned during that call left her devastated. After hanging up, she quietly gathered her things, her eyes filled with tears, and left early. She never explained why.
Her coworker now had a gut feeling: Lori Hacking had discovered Mark’s lie.
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The Education That Never Was
Detectives acted fast. They began examining Mark Hacking’s academic history and what they uncovered changed everything.
Mark hadn’t been accepted to UNC’s medical program. In fact, he hadn’t even applied. And perhaps most damning—he had never completed his undergraduate degree at the University of Utah. He wasn’t eligible for medical school at all.
It had all been a fabrication. For years, he had maintained the illusion that he was on track to become a doctor. When no diploma appeared, he told family he had missed the ceremony due to illness. Friends, family—even Lori Hacking—believed him. He carried a backpack across campus, visited Lori, and even spoke about assignments and exams he wasn’t taking.
He wasn’t pursuing a dream. He was performing one.
A Marriage Built on Fiction
Now, Lori Hacking—devoted, trusting, and full of plans for the future—was gone. Investigators believed the phone call on July 15 had triggered the unraveling. Lori had discovered the truth. She may have confronted Mark. She may have threatened to leave.
The theory was no longer just plausible—it was probable.
Lori’s mother later remembered all the times Mark had asked her to help edit essays, the stories about late-night study sessions, the physics exams. It had all felt so real. Now it was clear: the lies had gone much deeper than anyone imagined.
Investigators returned to the couple’s apartment for a deeper, more forensic search. What they found erased any lingering doubt: bloodstains in the bedroom. Splatter on the walls. Specks near the floor.
Inside the nightstand, a hunting knife—coated in Lori’s DNA.
The mattress, recently replaced, suddenly made sense. The blood loss indicated serious trauma. Then came another damning discovery: Lori’s car keys were still in the apartment. If she’d gone jogging, she would’ve taken them. Instead, it appeared Mark had staged the scene—driving her car to the trailhead before calling 911.
The Footage That Changed the Case
Even as Mark’s family tried to defend him publicly—claiming he was under pressure, not violent—investigators were seeing a different story. One shaped by deception, premeditation, and cold calculation.
Then, the evidence shifted from circumstantial to visual.
Surveillance footage showed a man matching Mark’s appearance dragging a black garbage bag behind the hospital where he worked. The bag appeared heavy. He dumped it into a bin.
Shortly after that, he purchased a mattress. Then, he made the 911 call.
Detectives now had a working theory—and a body to find.
Digging for Truth
Attention turned to the local landfill. With grim determination, crews sifted through mounds of refuse. After days of searching, they struck gold: a bloodstained mattress believed to be the one Mark had discarded.
Near it was something even more heartbreaking—a handwritten letter from Lori Hacking.
In it, she confronted Mark about his lies. She told him she was heartbroken. And she said she wanted a divorce.
For Lori Hacking, the letter may have been a declaration of reclaiming her life.
For Mark, it may have been the final straw.
With the discovery of the mattress and the letter, even Mark’s own family could no longer maintain their denial. One by one, his brothers visited him at the psychiatric hospital. They begged him to tell the truth.
Eventually, he did.
Mark confessed to killing Lori Hacking. He said it wasn’t planned—that in a moment of overwhelming rage, he shot her with a rifle. A flash of violence. A permanent silence.
A Body in the Trash
After Lori’s murder, Mark Hacking methodically cleaned the apartment, placed her body in a garbage bag, and disposed of it in a hospital dumpster—discarding the woman who trusted him like a piece of waste.
On August 2, 2004, he was arrested.
Even then, Lori’s remains were still missing. For months, search teams combed the Salt Lake City landfill, refusing to give up. Finally, on October 1, 2004, their efforts paid off. Lori’s remains were found—badly decomposed, left broken among trash. It was a grim end to a search that had become national news.
Despite confessing privately to killing Lori Hacking, Mark pleaded not guilty during his preliminary hearing on October 29, 2004. The move devastated Lori’s family. For them, it wasn’t just about justice—it was about closure. For months, they pleaded with Mark to speak the truth publicly.
Then, on April 15, 2005, the silence finally broke.
Mark Hacking changed his plea to guilty.
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A Punishment, and a Promise
Under Utah law at the time, Mark received a sentence of six years to life in prison. But the state parole board soon clarified: he would not be eligible for parole until 2035. That decision, while not a formal maximum, guaranteed he’d serve at least 30 years.
The sentencing sparked something more than outrage—it sparked change.
Utah lawmakers passed “Lori’s Law,” increasing the minimum sentence for first-degree murder to 15 years before parole eligibility. Her name became more than a memory—it became reform.
At a press conference following Mark’s sentencing, his father addressed the media with trembling conviction. He spoke of a boy who once had promise, but who collapsed under shame, academic failure, and undiagnosed learning disabilities.
He talked about the injuries—seizures, a concussion, a broken back—that had supposedly derailed Mark’s ability to focus in school. He described a slow unraveling: how Mark, desperate to avoid failure, chose to lie.
Mark lied about finishing college. Lied about medical school acceptances. Lied to his wife, his family, and himself.
And when Lori Hacking uncovered it all—on July 18, just days before she vanished—it all came crashing down.
The Real Timeline Revealed
On July 24, Mark told his brothers the truth. The next day, his lawyer contacted prosecutors with information about Lori’s location. Despite earlier courtroom denials, he had privately resolved to plead guilty. According to his father, the trial had never been part of the plan.
Mark’s family insisted he had never been violent. That he loved Lori Hacking. That he was haunted by what he had done and wanted to atone. In prison, he began writing remorseful letters. He expressed sorrow to Lori’s mother, Thelma, and claimed he was still trying to understand why he had snapped.
“I want to become the man Lori Hacking always thought I was,” he wrote.
In one final, symbolic act, Lori’s family took her name back.
They removed “Hacking” from her headstone.
In its place, they engraved a single word: Felina—Portuguese for “little daughter.” A name chosen by her mother, Thelma, who explained simply, “Mark didn’t want her anymore.”
It was a quiet but powerful decision to restore Lori’s identity. To reclaim her life from the man who stole it.
Remembering Lori Hacking
Lori Hacking was 27 years old. She had dreams of becoming a mother. Of building a life in North Carolina. Of standing beside the man she believed in.
Instead, she fell in love with a lie.
The man who held her heart was living a double life. And when the deception collapsed, he chose silence over honesty—and violence over truth.
Lori’s death shook an entire community that believed in the image of their marriage. In reality, behind the flowers, the smiles, and the vows, Lori Hacking had been loving a fiction.
But her legacy lives on.
In the law that bears her name.
In the people who loved her.
And in the painful but necessary reminder her story brings:
Sometimes, the most dangerous secrets are hidden in the hearts of those we trust the most.
