She Survived by M. William Phelps

there was a guard shack heading into the apartment complex where he had attacked on each of those three recent occasions. In other words, one had to check in with the guard before one could drive or walk into the complex.
    Was he sneaking in? the detective asked herself after first learning about this.
    â€œUnbeknownst to us then,” Buttram said later, “he had a sticker [or parking pass]. . . .”
    He could drive right by the guard without stopping.

CHAPTER 19
    PEEPING TOM
    It was Saturday , August 22, 1992, twelve days after the most recent attacks, when he came out from underneath his rock and struck again. At around 1:00 A.M. , a call came into the Lawrence Police Department (LPD), a suburb of Indianapolis directly near where the other three attacks had occurred, literally straight across the freeway from where Melissa and the others had been attacked. He had moved his operation a mere 1.8 miles east, yet kept to the same MO in choosing an apartment complex.
    â€œThere’s a guy in a tree getting into an apartment on Cider (Mill) Lane,” the caller told the 911 dispatcher.
    They had him in the act.
    The caller indicated a man had climbed a tree and used the structure as a way to try and break into an apartment. He was sticking to those old behaviors of using any edifice available to get up onto a balcony or deck so he could get in through a sliding glass door or open window. This information immediately told law enforcement what they had expected all along: They were dealing with a bold, brassy son of a bitch who would not be deterred even after being confronted on three occasions, which they knew of.
    â€œWe had put out flyers and information to all the local police departments,” Becky Buttram explained. The MCSD had alerted local agencies that there was a night prowler whom every cop on the street out walking or driving around should be on the lookout for—a guy who liked to get into homes through windows and open doors, using any means necessary to get up onto the second floor of apartment buildings. The MCSD said in the announcement that its investigators were certain he would strike again.
    Sure enough, nearly two weeks later, here he was, out and about, trying his luck again.
    The LPD rolled up on the scene. Two officers got out of their vehicle and began stealthily combing the area with flashlights.
    Within a few moments they spotted the guy fitting the description that the 911 caller had given. He was now on the ground, peering creepily into an apartment window, perhaps getting ready to make a move to go in. After all, he had no idea someone had spotted him and called 911.
    Initially they held back, watched, and waited for him to make a move.
    The man crawled up to a nearby sliding glass door on a deck and began looking inside the apartment.
    Another police officer, arriving on scene at that moment, approached the porch where the suspect now stood, preparing to go into the apartment.
    But then, the perp heard something and turned.
    Just as the cop got there, the elusive Peeping Tom, now startled, took off running.
    â€œStop!” police shouted.

CHAPTER 20
    GREAT SCOTT, WE’VE GOT HIM
    Becky Buttram was at home. It was the middle of the night. Her phone rang.
    â€œWe’ve had another incident,” the cop explained.
    Buttram knew what that meant. No other clarification was needed.
    â€œI’m on my way.”
    After a brief foot chase a cop tackled the sick bastard and handcuffed him. The Lawrence Police Department now had in custody the individual whom investigators working the case that night believed to be the night prowler that the entire county was seeking.
    Caught red-handed, in the act.
    The sketch the MCPD had generated, when matched up to the twenty-eight-year-old suspect, Scott Saxton, whom they caught staring into the window of an unsuspecting victim, was a near exact match. Buttram could not believe the accuracy in which the witnesses had described