The story of Dorothy Jane Scott is one of those cases that sticks to your ribs long after you’ve read the police reports. It’s not just a missing persons case; it’s a decades-long saga involving a stalker who seemed to know every move his victim made. In the spring of 1980, Dorothy was a 32-year-old single mother living a relatively quiet life in Stanton, California. She worked as a secretary for two local businesses—the Custom Shop and Swinger’s Psych Shop. She stayed out of trouble. She attended church. Then, the calls started.
People often think stalking is a modern phenomenon fueled by social media, but what happened to Dorothy Scott proves that a predator doesn't need an Instagram handle to terrorize someone. For months, an unidentified man called her. Sometimes he professesed his "undying love." Other times, he'd get graphic, threatening to cut her into bits so no one would ever find her. Imagine being in her shoes. You're trying to raise your son, Shawn, and every time the phone rings, your heart hits the floor because you know it's him.
The Night of the Disappearance
Everything changed on May 28, 1980. Dorothy was at a late-night employee meeting. It was supposed to be a normal Wednesday. One of her colleagues, Conrad Bostron, had been bitten by a spider—a black widow, actually—and he was looking pretty rough. Dorothy, being the kind soul she was, volunteered to drive him to the hospital. Another coworker, Pam Head, went along for the ride.
They went to the UC Irvine Medical Center. After Conrad got his treatment, Dorothy stayed in the waiting room while Pam and Conrad handled the paperwork. At one point, Dorothy told them she was going to pull her white 1973 Toyota Station Wagon around to the front entrance so Conrad wouldn't have to walk as far.
She walked out into the parking lot.
That was the last time her friends saw her alive.
When Pam and Conrad walked outside, the car wasn't there. Then, suddenly, they saw the Toyota speeding toward them. They waved, thinking it was Dorothy, but the headlights blinded them. The car didn't stop. It accelerated, swerved, and tore out of the parking lot.
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The Bizarre Aftermath
The police found her car the next morning. It was burning in an alleyway in Santa Ana, about 10 miles away from the hospital. But Dorothy wasn't in it.
What makes the disappearance of Dorothy Scott truly haunting is what happened next. For four years—yes, years—her mother, Vera Scott, received a phone call every single Wednesday. The voice on the other end was the same man who had stalked Dorothy. He would ask, "Is Dorothy there?" or claim, "I've got her." Sometimes he'd just say, "I killed her."
Think about the psychological toll that takes on a grieving mother. Every Wednesday. For four years.
The police tried to trace the calls, but back then, technology was primitive. The calls were too short. The guy was smart enough to hang up before the technicians could pin down a location. It wasn't until one day in April 1984, when Dorothy's father answered the phone and the caller immediately hung up, that the calls finally stopped.
The Discovery in Peters Canyon
In August 1984, the mystery took a grim turn. Construction workers were laying a pipeline in Peters Canyon, near Anaheim. They stumbled across human remains. Alongside the bones, they found a turquoise ring and a watch. The watch had stopped at 12:30 AM on May 29, 1980.
That was roughly an hour after Dorothy left the hospital waiting room.
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Dental records confirmed the bones belonged to Dorothy Scott. But here's the kicker: because the remains had been exposed to the elements for years, and a brush fire had swept through the area earlier, the coroner couldn't determine a cause of death. No signs of trauma were visible on the bones that were left.
We know she was killed. We just don't know how.
Theories and Dead Ends
The investigation into Dorothy's life didn't turn up any obvious enemies. She wasn't dating anyone seriously. She wasn't involved in anything shady. This points to a classic "obsessional follower." Someone who had likely seen her at the shops where she worked or at church.
There have been plenty of theories over the decades. Some people point to a man named Mike Butler, who owned the building where Dorothy worked. He was reportedly obsessed with her and had some "alternative" religious beliefs that some found unsettling. However, there was never enough physical evidence to charge him. He died in 2014, taking any secrets he might have had to the grave.
Others wonder if it was a complete stranger who simply fixated on her from afar. The level of detail the caller knew—like the fact that she had been at the hospital that night—suggests he was watching her in real-time. He didn't just stumble upon her. He followed her to the hospital. He waited in that dark parking lot for her to come out alone.
Why Dorothy's Case Still Matters Today
It's easy to look at a 1980 cold case and think it's just a tragic footnote in history. But Dorothy's story changed how we think about stalking. It highlighted the terrifying reality that a predator can be anyone—the guy at the grocery store, a customer at work, or someone who just happens to live on your block.
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Honestly, the "Wednesday Calls" remain one of the most chilling aspects of any true crime case in American history. It shows a level of dedication to cruelty that is hard to wrap your head around. It wasn't enough for him to take her life; he wanted to destroy her family's peace of mind, too.
Actionable Steps for Personal Safety and Advocacy
If you're reading this and feeling a bit rattled, that's a natural reaction. But we can take Dorothy's story and use it to be more aware of our surroundings and support the families of the missing.
- Trust Your Gut: Dorothy told her mother she recognized the voice on the phone but couldn't place it. She knew something was wrong weeks before she disappeared. If you feel like you're being followed or watched, don't downplay it. Report it.
- Modern Security: We have tools Dorothy didn't. Use them. Personal safety apps like Noonlight or even just sharing your "Live Location" with a trusted friend when you're out late can be a literal lifesaver.
- Support Cold Case Units: Many police departments have cold case units that are chronically underfunded. Organizations like the Project Justice Group or Soles for Souls often work to bring modern DNA testing to old cases.
- The Power of Digitization: If you have information on old cases in your area, share them on platforms like the Doe Network or NamUs. Sometimes a small detail remembered 40 years later is the key to a breakthrough.
The case of Dorothy Scott remains officially unsolved. While her remains were found, her killer was never brought to justice. Her son, Shawn, grew up without a mother, and her parents passed away without ever knowing exactly who had terrorized their daughter. By keeping her story alive, we ensure that the "man who called on Wednesdays" doesn't get the final word. We keep the pressure on for the truth, even decades later.
If you or someone you know is being stalked, contact the National Center for Victims of Crime. Stalking is a precursor to violence, and Dorothy’s story is the ultimate, tragic proof of that.
Stay aware. Look out for each other. And never ignore that feeling that something isn't right.