The killer crept into the backyard.

The single-story house was on Via Zaragosa in Mission Viejo. It was about 1:30 a.m. on Sunday, Aug. 25, 1985 — 27 years ago.

Inside the house, a 13-year-old boy couldn’t sleep. His family had come home from Rosarito Beach several hours earlier, and James Romero III wanted to retrieve a pillow he had left in his family’s camper. His parents and sister were asleep.

The boy left his house through a side door.

Romero had no idea, in that dark moment, how close he was to Richard Ramirez, who was about to become known as “The Night Stalker.” Ramirez was later convicted of 13 murders, five attempted murders and 11 sexual assaults. He is now on Death Row awaiting an execution date. His conviction has been upheld by the California Supreme Court, and the case is working its way through the appeals process.

Ramirez’ killing spree, which became public in the summer of 1985, terrified California residents. The Satan-worshipping Night Stalker usually entered homes in the middle of the night through open windows.

The crimes were fodder for TV news. And they utterly baffled police.

Until the Night Stalker came to Mission Viejo.

—

Within two hours of James Romero’s Aug. 25 search for a pillow, another Mission Viejo resident would be shot in the head, another would be raped — and police would have a lead that would eventually result in the capture of the Night Stalker.

Also, young Romero would find a chilling reminder of the twisted nature of the man in his backyard.

James Romero, now 40, is married and the father of triplets. He lives in San Clemente, races motorcycles and owns “In the Scene Limousine.”

He talks about the events of Aug. 25, 1985, as if it was yesterday.

The camper doors were locked, so the 13-year-old Romero walked back toward the side door.

That’s when he heard something. He paused, squinting into the backyard. He thought it must have been an animal rustling in the bushes.

So Romero went into the garage. The noise he heard hadn’t alarmed him very much.

He turned on the garage light and saw his mini-bike in the front corner. The bike’s brakes needed work so Romero got started. He was working near a rectangular vent, covered by a small screen a couple of inches off the ground.

Through the vent, he heard something again. First, some scuttling in the distance. Then, distinct footsteps.

Romero knew he was in trouble, but he didn’t know the extent of the danger that was lurking in his side yard.

“He walked right next to the screen,” said Romero. And he thought: “That’s not an animal. That’s a person.”

He hid behind his parents’ car.

“If he came in the garage, I was trapped,” he said.

As soon as the footsteps moved away, Romero ran into his house and into his bedroom.

That’s when he saw the Night Stalker. He was wearing a black baseball cap, black Members Only-type jacket and jeans.

“He was walking across my lawn,” Romero said. “He was right in front of my window.”

Romero’s father had heard James running in the house.

“James, why the hell are you up?” he said.

“THERE’S A PROWLER,” James said.

Now that his father was awake, Romero felt brave enough to run back outside. He ran through the side door. He saw the prowler running away.

Romero watched the prowler get into an Orange Toyota station wagon with a chrome rack on top. The car made a U-turn and came right back in front of the Romero house before speeding out of the neighborhood.

Romero saw the license plate, but he could only remember most of it – 482 T. He missed the other two letters.

The Romeros immediately called 911. Within 10 minutes, police were at the house.

—

As Romero led police into his backyard to explain where he first heard the footsteps, he noticed that his parents’ bedroom window was open. He also found a footprint that may have belonged to the Night Stalker.

He also found something much more creepy – on the ground, below the window, was a dead bird.

For many years, James Romero refused to talk publicly about the details of that night. He didn’t want to jeopardize the case. Also, the images were disturbing for him to recall. His story had been reported incorrectly so often that it became part of Richard Ramirez’ lore. Romero did not live on the same block as another Night Stalker victim. He did not suddenly spot a suspicious car. He did not wait until after the Night Stalker struck again to call the police.

At the same time police were taking the Romero report, the Night Stalker was just more than a mile away. Ramirez had driven to Chrisanta Drive, also in Mission Viejo, and broken into the house of Bill Carns, a computer engineer, and his fiancé. The Night Stalker shot Carns in the head three times (he miraculously survived) and raped his fiancé. He told her he let her live because she directed him to the spot where $400 was hidden in the house.

Sometime after 2:30 a.m. the police got a frantic phone call from Chrisanta Drive. That’s when they realized the Night Stalker had come to Orange County.

Within a week, the police had used the information Romero gave them and found the car (license plate number 482 RTS). They had pulled a fingerprint off the rearview mirror. They had named Richard Ramirez as the Night Stalker, and he was caught.

James Romero, the kid who had helped catch a killer, was treated like a hero.

He was given reward money by the police. He was presented an All-Terrain Vehicle by Mission Yamaha. He got to watch two Rams football games in the box of owner Georgia Frontiere.

When he was 16 years old, he had to testify against Richard Ramirez. The case had taken three years to get to the preliminary hearing.

Romero was on the witness stand four hours, two days in a row.

“Richard Ramirez was staring right at me.”

On the witness stand, Romero stared right back.

Romero will never forget what happened next.

“He winked at me.”