Dorothy Jane Scott’s Mystery Stalker

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In the early months of 1980, a woman from Anaheim, California named Dorothy Jane Scott had a serious problem. A man continuously called her at home, telling her that he was watching her every move. The man would tell Dorothy explicit details about where she had been that day, what she had been wearing, who she had spoken to. Dorothy had no idea who this person was, and his calls were becoming ever more insistent.
Dorothy, who was 32 in 1980, was terrified. When she would go out, she was always looking over her shoulder, expecting to see a deranged man stalking her. The man’s calls turned violent as the months wore on, and he began threatening to hack Dorothy “to bits.” She began taking self-defense classes out of fear for her life. Things would only get worse for her from there.
On May 28, 1980, one of Dorothy’s friends received a nasty spider bite. She drove the friend and a coworker to a nearby hospital so doctors could treat the bite, and eventually went back outside the building to retrieve her car.
When Dorothy’s friends didn’t see her approach the entrance, they stepped outside to see if she was okay. Then, her car sped past them, headlights blazing, and they were unable to see who was behind the wheel. Dorothy was never seen or heard from again.
Her car was found burning in an alley around 4:30 the next morning. She was nowhere to be seen. Police launched an investigation to find her, or her supposed kidnapper. In a chilling twist, the phone calls never stopped.
The stalker who had hounded Dorothy for the last few months of her life began tormenting her parents, calling them to taunt them about their missing daughter. The man kept the calls brief, making it impossible for police to trace the calls. After a few weeks, he stopped calling altogether. However, in 1984, Dorothy’s skeletal remains were found in a canyon a few miles from where Dorothy was last seen.
The remains were badly charred, and Dorothy was only identified with the held of dental records. The family held a memorial service, happy for some degree of closure, but mourning the loss of the vibrant young woman who had been taken from them by an unhinged stalker.
The day after the memorial service, the phone rang again. It was the same man. In a brief exchange, he asked a simple question. “Is Dorothy home?”
The stalker never called again. He has never been identified.