She was a rising star in the ultra-competitive world of high-end real estate, a young woman whose radiant personality and tireless ambition earned her the kind of friendship and trust that clients rarely give to a newcomer. But on a quiet Saturday evening in February, in a pristine three‑bedroom home in Saanich, British Columbia, that bright future was extinguished in a savage, premeditated attack that police now describe as a professional hit. Lindsay Buziak, 24, thought she was closing the deal of a lifetime.
Instead, she walked into a trap carefully set by a phantom couple who vanished into the suburban twilight, leaving behind a bloody crime scene, a fractured family, and a mystery that nine years later still refuses to yield.
The first hint of danger came days before the showing. A woman with a strange, clipped voice called Lindsay’s personal cell phone—not the office number listed on her brochures—and asked to see million‑dollar properties that were “immediately move‑in ready” and located within 20 minutes of downtown Victoria. Lindsay’s father, Jeff, remembers the unease in her voice when she called him.
“Daddy, there’s something weird I’m sensing about this,” she said. The caller claimed a mutual client had referred her, but when Lindsay checked, that client was conveniently out of town. Jeff urged her to be cautious.
Lindsay told him she had asked her boyfriend, Jason Zailo, to come along as backup. Jason, a former semi‑pro hockey player standing 6’3” and weighing 240 pounds, was an intimidating presence. That reassurance, Jeff says, put him at ease.
The afternoon of February 2, 2009, started normally. Lindsay and Jason had a late lunch together, then parted ways—she to prepare for the showing, he to meet a friend at a nearby business. At 5:29 p.
m. , the lockbox on the house recorded that the key had been accessed. Surveillance cameras later showed Jason and his friend leaving their location.
At roughly the same moment, Lindsay texted Jason: “They’re here.” There was no hint of panic, no coded warning. Just a routine message about her arrival.
Three minutes later, at 5:41, Lindsay’s BlackBerry dialed out to a friend she hadn’t spoken to in months. The call went to voicemail, capturing only muffled sounds. Police believe that was the exact moment of the attack—a pocket dial triggered by the struggle.
Witnesses outside the house saw Lindsay speaking with a blond woman wearing a brightly colored dress and a tall Caucasian man with dark hair. The trio entered the home. What happened inside took less than 11 minutes.
Investigators say Lindsay led the couple upstairs to the master bedroom. When she turned to show the ensuite bathroom, she was attacked from behind. There were no defensive wounds—she never saw it coming.
She was stabbed more than 40 times. Her purse, wallet, and cell phone were left untouched. There was no sign of sexual assault.
The killers left behind no DNA, no fingerprints. They wore gloves, maybe even covered their shoes. Every detail of the murder suggests meticulous planning.
At 5:45 p. m. , Jason Zailo drove into the cul‑de‑sac.
He told police he saw the couple—the same tall man and blond woman in the colorful dress—standing at the front door, about to leave. His car interrupted them. They turned around and went back inside, closing the door behind them.
Jason assumed the showing was still in progress and decided to wait in his car. Twenty minutes later, he texted Lindsay: “Are you okay?” No reply.
Worried, he and his friend tried the front door; it was locked. They walked around the back and found a French door slightly ajar. Jason’s friend entered, then let him in.
Jason ran upstairs and discovered Lindsay’s body in the master bedroom. He called 911 again at 6:11 p. m.
Police arrived quickly. They detained Jason and his friend for hours of questioning. Both cooperated fully.
Jason submitted to a polygraph and passed. His timeline was corroborated by surveillance video and text messages. “We know he’s not the killer,” said Sergeant Chris Horsley of the Saanich Police Department.
“He successfully passed a polygraph and took part in all interviews. At this point, he is not considered a suspect.” But Lindsay’s father, Jeff, remains deeply suspicious.
He points out that Jason never checked on her when he saw the couple re‑enter the house, and that he somehow knew to run directly to the master bedroom even though he claimed he had never been inside the residence before. “I would have gone and checked as soon as I saw somebody dart in and out of a front door,” Jeff says. “That concerns me.”
Jeff also reveals that Lindsay had confided in him just six weeks before her murder during a trip to Calgary. She said her relationship with Jason was “rocky” and that she was considering breaking up with him. Jason was “overbearing and demanding, jealous and possessive,” Jeff recalls.
“She came to Calgary to speak to me about that.” Police have investigated Jason thoroughly and cleared him, but Jeff cannot shake the feeling that someone close to Lindsay knows more than they have said.
The couple who carried out the murder vanished without a trace. Police have only the eyewitness description of a tall white male and a blond woman in a distinctive dress. They even tracked down the exact brand of the dress—a common department‑store item sold across Canada—but the lead went cold.
The killers used a burner phone, purchased three months earlier with cash under a 𝒻𝒶𝓀𝑒 name, and used exclusively to contact Lindsay. “It’s a level of planning that clearly shows Lindsay Buziak was the target,” Horsley says. “But was she really the target, or just a scapegoat of convenience?”
One theory points to the largest 𝒹𝓇𝓊𝑔 bust in Alberta history, which occurred in January 2009—just weeks after Lindsay’s visit to Calgary. During that trip, Lindsay reached out to an old acquaintance from Victoria, making one phone call and visiting his Facebook page. That acquaintance was a relative of Erikson Delalcazar, who was later arrested in a massive cocaine seizure worth millions.
“People lost a lot of money,” Horsley explains. “And the people that lost the drugs know that someone spoke to the police.” In the 𝒹𝓇𝓊𝑔 world, a witch hunt followed.
People were dragged from their beds and interrogated. Someone pointed a finger at Lindsay as the informant. “She may have been a target of opportunity,” Horsley says.
“They needed to solve a problem, and she was the solution.”
Jeff Buziak believes that theory. He runs a website, LindsayBuziakMurder. com, where he names individuals he suspects of being involved.
He receives regular legal threats but says he won’t stop. “I promised her I would find out who murdered her,” he says, his voice raw with grief. “I miss my baby.
I miss my little girl.” Police acknowledge the criticism that the case remains unsolved. “We’ve spent millions of dollars and had up to 40 investigators at one point,” Horsley says.
“We still have detectives assigned. It is not a cold case.” Yet nine years later, the killers walk free.
The bright, vivacious young woman who loved real estate, who made friends with everyone, who was the kind of girl others wanted to be around, is gone. And the only thing left behind is a burning question: why?