something to match it up to.
One of the other immediate observations Becky Buttram made as she walked around the apartment was how certain she now was that the crime had not been a random act of violence. He didnât just begin to break into femalesâ homes and slash them up; and it was pretty clear to Buttram that he knew Melissa. He didnât choose her on that night. There was no way.
Another thought had occurred to Buttram as she stood looking at all the blood and mess that the scuffle had produced: I hope to God it doesnât happen again.
âMelissaâs attack was potentially going to be a homicide,â Buttram said later.
The possibility of it happening again worried Buttram the most. In fact, the detective became so concerned after seeing Melissaâs crime scene and reviewing her case that at night she would drive the apartment complex and others nearby, hoping to spot a suspicious character.
She never did.
He hid himself wellâat least then.
Because, at that moment, just as Becky Buttram suspected and knew in her gut, the man who had attacked Melissa was planning several more home invasions.
The detective was right: He was not going to stop. The question was: Would he escalate to murder, now that he knew Melissa was alive and talking?
CHAPTER 16
ANDREW
There was another monster knocking on Melissaâs door as she stayed with family in Florida. This one started off as a tropical depression along the coast of Africa around August 14, 1992, and turned into one of the most devastating hurricanes on record: Andrew. By the time Andrew hit the Florida coast near South Florida during the week of August 20, with winds well over 175 miles per hour, he was a Category 5 monstrous storm capable of wreaking havoc anywhere he decided to spin. When Andrew was finished, he had caused $26.5 billion worth of destruction and dozens of deaths.
With forecasts of Andrew preparing to hit the Florida coastline near Melissaâs home, her father said, âYou need to leave.â
The man, like any father, was scared for his daughter, who had been through so much already. Melissa did not need to confront a hurricane, on top of everything she had been through already. Of course, she couldnât explain to anyone and make them understand, but after that bloody ordeal inside her apartment, standing firm and fighting a hurricane seemed like childâs play to Melissa. She had endured hell. Sheâd met the Devil, face-to-face. A hurricane was nothing.
As Andrew started to blow in, Melissaâs dad explained that she had to leave now or stay an extra couple of weeks after the storm left.
âI wanted to stay the extra weeks, but Dad put me on a plane the next day and sent me back.â
On the day the hurricane blew through Florida, Melissa was home, back at her grandmotherâs. The phone rang. The call was for Melissa. It was some detective.
Becky Buttram, actually. The cop had some news to share.
CHAPTER 17
EVOLUTION
To Detective Becky Buttramâs great disappointment, just as she was actively looking into Melissaâs attack and thinking the MCSD was getting somewhere, the case ran cold as a river stone. Weeks went by. Nothing happened. Not another attack. Not a hit on any of the DNA or fingerprints. Not a witness coming forward to say sheâd seen some sleazebag staring in through her window.
Nothing.
As it happened, Melissaâs attackerâs fingerprints were not on file in Marion County. A thorough, more comprehensive check of records didnât provide any match, which meant the guy had not been arrested in Marion County. Various neighboring counties back then didnât necessarily swap info or trade off with other counties on possible suspects and perps. There was a national database, but nothing like it is today, where law enforcement agencies from around the country input new arrests and any fingerprint/DNA evidence they wind up with on a daily basis. You