The Dodge minivan pulled up to the hotel curb. Simon Traut stepped out and around the vehicle. The hotel’s front doors swooshed open for him.

Clark, the front desk clerk, was in the middle of his graveyard shift, adding up the hotel’s Banquet Invoices for the day. He looked up, and Simon Traut’s thin face smirked and nodded.

Clark said, “Good evening, sir.”

“Hey there,” Simon responded.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Checking in. Michael Sanchen.”

“Alright. Yessir. Welcome. I’ve got you for one night. King Bed. Smoking.”

“That’s right.” Simon retrieved a money clip from his small, black travel bag.

“And Mr. Sanchen, do you have that employee white card with you?”

Simon retrieved his Continental Resorts Hotel Group Employee Room Benefit Card (ERBC).

“Thank you, sir. And ID?”

“Yes. I only have my San Marcos Student ID. Is that alright?” Simon held up his college ID.

“Sure, Mr. Sanchen. That’s fine. Do you mind if I make a copy?”

“Not at all.” Simon surrendered the ID.

Clark stepped behind a door and Xeroxed the ID. When he returned, sixty dollars had been placed on the counter. “Thank you, sir.” Clark logged the money into the computer and clicked PRINT on the screen. “Great employee rate they give us, huh?”

“Sure is. You guys get a lot of white cards over here?”

“Not really, to be honest.” Clark made change for the transaction while the printer warmed up to print a receipt and a check-in sheet. “Even though we’re close to Disneyland and the coast, there are other hotels closer, you know?” The receipt and sheet printed and Clark placed them on the counter, along with six dollars and seven cents. He handed Simon a pen. “How about you guys? Get a lot?”

“Yeah, a good amount.” Simon grabbed the receipt and pretended to scan over the Release of Liability Agreement printed on the bottom third of the check-in sheet; Clark programmed a key to room 147. “There’s a casino pretty close, plus the college, so...” Simon’s voice trailed off as he signed the sheet and put down the pen.

“I see. Well, Mr. Sanchen, here’s the key to your room on the first—“

“Actually, could I get two keys. I always end up losing one, y’know?”

“Certainly, Mr. Sanchen. Happens all the time.” Clark programmed a second key for Simon’s room. “There you are, sir. Just head on down the small ramp there, and hook a left after the elevator. Your room is just down the hallway.”

Simon went where he was told.

The next day, at around noon, many of the housekeepers in the break-room wondered where Socorro Salvador was and why she hadn’t joined them for lunch. Lucia Torres was new to the hotel and she didn’t know Socorro very well, so she wasn’t curious about her disappearance, just annoyed. After all, she was the one who would have to pick up Socorro’s slack: all the odd-numbered rooms between 137 and 149. And Lucia, with sweat permeating her brow and uniform, was almost through her day, having worked twice as hard for the same pay, when she opened the door to room 147 and screamed at what she saw.

Detectives discovered Mr. Sanchen had checked-out that morning at seven-thirty, but only returned one key to the desk. He slipped back into the room with his second key and waited. Socorro's time of death was likely near 9:00am.

The white Employee Room Benefit Card used had not been a counterfeit, though the General Manager's signature from the Continental Resort in San Marcos had been forged. It prompted an immediate change in policy for the Continental Resorts Hotel Group in which all future Employee Room Benefit Cards were to be labeled with a serial number connecting them to specific hotels. All cash payments were also to be accompanied by government issued photo identification: no exceptions. To this day, there has never been a Michael Sanchen employed by CRHG. Though there was once a Michael Sanchen registered at San Marcos University, it was in the 1940’s, before they began issuing Student ID Cards. Mr. Sanchen died in the Korean War, unmarried and childless.

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