CBS Pittsburgh reporter Shelley Bortz described a case out of Wilkinsburg that reads like a horror script, except police say it happened in real life to a real person who thought she was showing up for something ordinary.
Bortz reported that investigators believe the woman was lured to a home under false pretenses, then beaten, blindfolded, and held captive for hours while suspects demanded money from people in her life.
It’s the kind of crime that doesn’t just attack one victim. It spreads panic outward, because the ransom demands pull friends and family into the moment, forcing them to make choices under pressure.
And what makes it worse is how normal the first step sounded. Bortz said police believe the woman was told she was going to give someone a haircut.
The House On Clark Street
Shelley Bortz reported that police say the nightmare began at a home on Clark Street in Wilkinsburg, where the woman arrived Thursday night expecting a haircut appointment.
Instead, Bortz said investigators believe she was ambushed once she got inside.

Bortz reported the woman was pistol-whipped, blindfolded, and dragged into the basement, where she was held while the suspects worked their way through a list of people they wanted money from.
That detail matters because basements are isolating. They’re quiet, they’re out of view, and they’re the kind of place where time can stretch and fear can build, especially when you’re blindfolded and injured.
Bortz’s reporting made the scene feel immediate: a sudden flip from a routine errand into a controlled space where the victim’s phone, movement, and voice were being used as tools against her.
Ransom Calls And A Threat Caught On Voicemail
According to Shelley Bortz, investigators say the suspects forced the woman to contact her significant other and several other people she knew, demanding money for her release.
Bortz reported that police were given a voicemail that captured the tone of the threats.
In that voicemail, Bortz said, a man’s voice can be heard telling another man: “She moves, you shoot her. She do anything weird, you shoot her.”
That line lands like a weight because it isn’t vague. It’s not a bluff that sounds like movie talk. It’s direct, simple, and meant to keep the victim frozen while the suspects stayed in control.
Bortz said police believe more than $4,000 was sent electronically while the woman was being held inside the home.
That’s another part that sticks with you, because it shows how modern ransom crimes can work fast. A few taps, a few transfers, and suddenly money is gone, even before anyone has a clear picture of where the victim is or what is happening.
It’s hard not to think about the helplessness of the people receiving those calls. When someone you love is on the line and you’re hearing threats like that, the “right” decision stops feeling obvious.
Violence, Control, And The Moment She Found A Way Out
Shelley Bortz told viewers police say the victim was eventually forced into the back seat of her own car and driven away.
Then came the moment that, according to Bortz, may have saved her life.
Bortz reported that police say the suspects stopped at a BP gas station on Ardmore Boulevard, and the woman ran.

Bortz described that location in a way that made it feel like more than a random stop. She said that BP became the woman’s only chance to survive, because it was the first time she had a public space, other people, and even a short window where the suspects weren’t perfectly positioned to stop her.
Bortz reported that investigators say she jumped out, ran to a stranger’s pickup truck, and begged for help.
That image is haunting, because it’s not just escape—it’s a desperate calculation made by someone who is injured, terrified, and unsure if she’ll be caught.
Bortz said the woman was rushed to the hospital with visible injuries to her head and face, along with concussion symptoms.
In Bortz’s telling, police believe she survived because she recognized a moment that might not come again and took it, even though running could have made the suspects react violently.
There’s something painfully human in that, because escaping isn’t always a heroic sprint. Sometimes it’s a stumbling rush toward the nearest stranger, hoping they don’t freeze or drive off.
Evidence Left Behind And A Trail Across Town
After the escape, Shelley Bortz reported police were able to recover key pieces of evidence in different locations.
Bortz said investigators recovered the victim’s cell phone in the area of Princeton and Penn Avenue.
She also reported that the victim’s car was found in Braddock on Maple Way.
Those details matter because they suggest a messy aftermath, where suspects were moving quickly, ditching property, and possibly trying to break the trail apart.
To me, it’s also one of those reminders that victims often lose more than safety in cases like this. Even after the physical danger ends, they’re left rebuilding basics—phone access, transportation, bank accounts, privacy, and a sense of normal daily movement.
Bortz’s report didn’t dwell on the victim’s identity beyond what police said, but the way she described the sequence made it clear the harm wasn’t only the injuries. It was the hours of control, humiliation, and fear.
A Suspect Named And Another Still Unknown
Shelley Bortz reported that investigators have identified one suspect as Dontae Stevens, who she said police described as a known local rapper.
Bortz said an arrest warrant has been issued for Stevens.
She reported that police say Stevens, described as a convicted felon, is facing charges that include kidnapping, aggravated assault, and robbery.
Bortz also reported that a second suspect has not yet been named.

That part leaves the story feeling unfinished, because it suggests someone else is still out there, and because a second suspect can mean the investigation has to answer hard questions about planning, roles, and whether more people knew what was happening.
When crimes involve luring a victim to a location, it often implies setup. Bortz didn’t speculate beyond what police said, but the structure of the allegations—false pretense, basement captivity, ransom demands, forced transport—sounds organized in a way that’s hard to shrug off as impulsive.
Why This Case Hits So Hard
Shelley Bortz’s reporting is disturbing because the alleged trap wasn’t an alleyway or an unknown street corner. It was a house, a place many people associate with normal routines like haircuts, favors, and quick stops.
That’s what makes the “false pretenses” detail so chilling. It suggests the suspects didn’t need to chase the victim down. They needed her to trust a simple story.
And once that trust was used as bait, police say the cruelty escalated fast – blindfolding, pistol-whipping, basement confinement, and threats that were strong enough to be repeated later in a voicemail.
It’s also hard not to think about how ransom crimes force loved ones into emotional hostage situations, too. Even if the victim is the one physically trapped, family and friends are trapped in fear and guilt, weighing money against time, hoping they aren’t making things worse.

Bortz made a point that stays with you: police believe she survived because she seized the escape moment at the BP.
That kind of escape isn’t luck alone. It’s presence of mind under panic, and it’s a reminder that sometimes the smallest opening – one stop, one door, one stranger nearby – becomes the difference between life and something far darker.
What Police Believe Happened, And What Comes Next
Shelley Bortz reported the case remains active, with one suspect named and another still unidentified.
She reported police believe the victim’s escape set the investigation in motion, allowing them to locate the phone, recover the car, and identify at least one suspect.
Now the rest depends on what investigators can prove, what digital transfer records show, what surveillance footage captured, and whether the second suspect is identified.
Bortz’s report didn’t offer easy closure, and honestly, it shouldn’t. A victim can escape and still carry the weight of it for years.
But there is one thing Bortz’s reporting makes clear: this woman is alive because she ran when she had the chance, and because at least one stranger at that gas station did the right thing when a terrified person begged for help.

A former park ranger and wildlife conservationist, Lisa’s passion for survival started with her deep connection to nature. Raised on a small farm in northern Wisconsin, she learned how to grow her own food, raise livestock, and live off the land. Lisa is our dedicated Second Amendment news writer and also focuses on homesteading, natural remedies, and survival strategies. Lisa aims to help others live more sustainably and prepare for the unexpected.


































