ORLANDO, Fla. — When Jennifer Kesse disappeared in 2006, her father spoke to reporters in Orlando and from national TV stations, hoping the 24-year-old would hear his message and stay strong until help arrived.

“Just hang in there. We’re close. And we’ll get you,” Drew Kesse said in those remarks televised in late January of that year.

But this month marks the 20th anniversary of the young woman’s disappearance — a case that stunned and captivated Central Florida — and Jennifer Kesse has never been found.

Drew Kesse now believes his daughter is dead but still wants answers and her remains. He hopes new technology can help with the unsolved case that has stumped law enforcement for two decades.

The pain for Kesse, his wife and son never leaves.

“It wrecked our life,” he said in a phone interview from his home in Bradenton.

“I don’t think you ever have closure out of this, because even if we found Jennifer today, it’s always with you,” he said.

Jennifer Kesse was reported missing Jan. 24, 2006, when she failed to show up for work at an investment company owned by the late time-share mogul David Siegel, who would eventually offer a $250,000 award for her safe return. She was last heard from the previous day when, from her condo near the Mall of Millenia, she had a telephone call with her boyfriend, who was living in Fort Lauderdale.

From what police have been able to put together, Jan. 24 seemed to start typically for Kesse, who had graduated from the University of Central Florida. They think she woke up, showered and left her condo around 8 a.m. to head to work — but was then abducted.

Police found her car with valuables in it two days later in a complex about a mile away from where she lived. Video from surveillance cameras captured somebody parking the car and then leaving. One camera that snapped pictures every few seconds showed that person — later dubbed a “person of interest” by police — walking away but the face was obscured by fencing in all the shots.

Police publicly shared images from those cameras and scoured Kesse’s condo unit, the complex where her car was found and wooded areas, using bloodhounds and officers on foot and horses.

For more than three months after her disappearance, the Kesse family also stood at the intersection of John Young Parkway and Conroy Road at rush hour, waving signs with Jennifer’s photo to the long line of drivers. The family set up a website, jenniferkesse.com, and social media pages, offering rewards for information.

But countless tips led nowhere.

The Florida Department of Law Enforcement and the FBI would later aid the investigation, which was led by the Orlando Police Department. In later years, a 17-member panel of law-enforcement experts was pulled together to look into the case, and police released an age-progressed photo of what Kesse might look like now.

Her family in 2018 also engaged in a legal battle with OPD in order to access records that their private investigators could use in a search. The family ultimately obtained 16,000 pages of documents after reaching an out-of-court settlement with the police department, Drew Kesse said.

Jennifer grew up in Odessa, not far from Tampa. She came to Orlando to attend UCF, fell in love with the city and made close friends. She graduated with honors in 2003 and became a financial analyst.

Her father described her as bright, outgoing and successful.

“She loved life to be quite honest with you. She was doing exactly what she wanted to do in life when she was taken,” he said. “Everything was going her way…and she could attain whatever she wanted to.”

One of Jennifer’s close friends, Kristen Ender, met her at UCF while rushing for the Alpha Delta Pi sorority, which they both joined. Born slightly more than a week apart, the two quickly bonded over being from out of town, stubborn and loyal. They both stayed in Orlando after graduating.

Ender found out about Jennifer’s disappearance when Jennifer’s brother Logan called asking if the two had talked that morning like they usually did. They had not.

“You just have that pit of your stomach feeling that something is very, very wrong,” she said.

In the days following, Ender helped the Kesses print missing person posters. She and other friends, along with Logan and Jennifer’s boyfriend, would stand on the street and hand out fliers, as well as look for her car.

As the days turned into years, Ender married, naming Jennifer an honorary maid of honor. Jennifer’s parents attended. Ender later became a mother.

“I’m 44 now. She would have been 44…so every milestone I’ve had in my life, she has missed,” Ender said. “I have two children of my own, and I can’t even fathom the unimaginable pain that the Kesses go through on a daily basis with this.”

Drew Kesse said the pain of losing his daughter and not knowing what happened to her has been unbearable and infected every aspect of his life. He said he wouldn’t inflict that suffering on his worst enemy — not even on whomever abducted Jennifer.

“I’ve been through the anxiety and depression, drugs and drinking, almost taking my life…because it does mess you up,” he said. “But 20 years, I am beyond that.”

And the family still has hope for answers.

The FDLE has significantly reduced the list of suspects, and has DNA evidence that has not yet been tested, he said.

FDLE took over the case in 2022. Agents in its cold case division “have been working diligently on reviewing thousands of documents and following up on new leads that may help find her,” the agency said Friday in an emailed statement. “The investigation remains active, and FDLE continues to be steadfast in its pursuit of justice in this case.”

Artificial intelligence is also being used to pore over 20 years worth of records, Kesse said, and could be used to get better images from the surveillance footage of the individual who dumped her car.

“Technology has finally caught up a little and we’re hoping that it’s Jennifer’s turn. All the resources are there,” he said.

“Being her father, my goal is to find my daughter, a piece of her, a DNA match to her,” he added.

Drew Kesse said he still regularly gets tips about Jennifer’s case from people in the Orlando area. He is grateful that the community Jennifer loved and adopted as her own has not forgotten her, even 20 years later.

“That’s very important to families like us to know that the public is supportive, because everyone could just walk away and say, ‘Who cares about that? Who cares?”’ Kesse said. “But that’s not what happened with Jennifer, and we thank the public for that.”

FDLE said that anyone who has information about Jennifer Kesse’s disappearance should call its Orlando office at (407) 245-0888 or email OROCColdCaseTips@fdle.state.fl.us.

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