Catherine Fuente ’s Story

I’m 39 years old and was born in Phoenix, Arizona. I married my college sweetheart, Adam, who was from Durango. We married after we both had graduated from the University of Arizona, then within a month we had moved to Adam’s home town of Durango. We lived in Durango for 12 years, after which we moved to Grand Junction. We now have been living in Grand Junction for seven years.
We moved to Grand Junction because I got a job as a Police Dispatch Operator. I applied for the position eight months earlier and after I had taken both the written and verbal tests, I was hired to begin working within the following month. Adam easily found work in town as a graphic web designer.
My job description, or duties, were in the communications department of the Grand Junction Police Department. Receiving emergency calls from the public, dispatching officers, emergency techs, physiological emergency teams, and fire crews, were all in a day’s, or night’s, work for me.
One morning, I received a call from the front desk of a local hotel. The hotel manager informed me that just a few minutes before, one of the housekeeping cleaning staff had discovered the dead body of a young man in one of the rooms. As she entered the room to clean it for the next guest, she found the body of a man face down by the side of the bed—obviously dead. Calls like this were not uncommon. Sadly, people who are despondent for many reasons known only to themselves choose to commit suicide in hotel rooms, or simply die from heart attacks or other reasons.

That morning, when I got the call, I relayed the

information I was given by the hotel manager to the police car, or ‘unit’, that was currently in the area. Nothing out of the ordinary. I knew Kenny, the officer who would be responding, so I very matter of factly provided him with the information I was given. I was confident that at the end of Kenny’s shift, he and I would locate each other, and he would give me a few of the details of the incident. Because of confidentiality issues, I’d keep the information to myself, and he also knew I’d be interested in this particular case. Kenny and I eventually did meet up with each other a few hours after the call. But what he experienced, and described took place during that call, really made my hair stand on end.
Kenny came into my office while I was on a call, motioning to me with his hand to talk to him. After a few minutes I met with him, but he seemed a bit nervous and agitated. He told me that after he had parked his patrol car at the hotel and had walked to the front desk, the manager had directed him to the floor and room where the body lay. Kenny also was given the victim’s address, phone number, vechicle’s description, and the maid’s report. That was all. After these limited details, Kenny said he walked into the hotel room.
It was still early in the day, around 10 a.m. As Kenny approached the first flight of stairs, he spotted a young guy standing by the stair’s guard rail. The guy seemed excited to see Kenny and said, “You need to go to room 312, the body’s in there and you need to take care of it!” Kenny responded, “Yeah, I know, that’s where I’m headed. Who are you, and why are you sweating so much?” The guy responded, “Come on, I’ll show you exactly where the room is.” Before Kenny could ask another question, the guy raced up the stairs in a flash! Kenny said that the guy was not quickly running up the