A Visit to the Motel Where Ryan Jenkins Was Found Hanged

Written and reported by Andrea Woo.

• ANDREA WOO

The motel is sheltered from the rest of the world by tree-covered mountains. A neon red-and-green “MOTEL” sign stands out front, its flashing arrow pointing toward the L-shaped lodge and buzzing steadily. Otherwise, this stretch of road is silent. It looks like the setting of a horror movie, created specifically for terrible things to happen in, and terrible things happened indeed: Late Sunday afternoon, the body of alleged fugitive murderer Ryan Jenkins was found hanging from a belt off a coat rack inside one of the rooms.

Jenkins, a 32-year-old Calgary, Alberta, native who moved to California to appear in reality TV shows, was wanted by authorities in connection with the murder of his wife, 28-year-old Jasmine Fiore, a swimsuit model. As has been widely reported, Fiore’s naked and mutilated body was found in a suitcase in a Buena Park, Calif., dumpster on August 15. Her teeth and fingers had been removed, requiring investigators to identify her by the serial number on her breast implants. Upon finding Jenkins’ boat tied up at a Point Roberts, Wash., marina on August 20, police believed he had fled to Canada on foot.

The alert that Jenkins’ body had been found at the Thunderbird Motel in Hope, B.C.—about 100 miles northeast of Vancouver—came through at about 5 p.m. I got there mid-evening, and the only remaining signs of the day’s gruesome discovery were the small crowd of media figures milling about in the parking lot, a heap of police tape in a trash bin, some nervous looking bystanders, and a thick sense of eeriness surrounding the door to room No. 2.

• ANDREA WOO

Motel manager Kevin Walker said a woman in her early 20s had checked in on Thursday, saying she needed a room for at least three days, and paid in cash. Outside in her silver PT Cruiser, which bore an Alberta license plate, a man—now known to be Jenkins—waited. Walker never saw the woman again and a motel resident said she left for good just 20 minutes after checking in. When no one from room No. 2 came to check out Sunday, Walker knocked on the door.

“I knocked… I knocked again,” said the manager, whose face showed fatigue from the weekend’s events. When no one answered, he unlocked the door using a second key and peered inside. “I saw the laptop on the bed. I said, ‘Hello, is anyone there?’ and when no one answered I pushed the door open some more and he was hanging from a belt, tied to the coat rack on the wall, right in front of me.” Walker said Jenkins’ hands were clenched and that the body smelled “of death.” While officials are still awaiting toxicology reports, an autopsy confirmed that Jenkins’ death was consistent with suicide.

Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) officers announced yesterday they had identified the woman who checked Jenkins in, but are not currently releasing her name. “We do believe that they know each other, there was a past history, but we don’t want to go into specific detail as to the relationship,” said RCMP Federal Border Integrity Program Sgt. Duncan Pound. “We do not believe she’s a risk to public safety.”

My colleagues and I are waiting to find out just who this woman is. Could it really be Jenkins’ former fiancee, Paulina Chmielecka? After being shown a photo of her, Walker reportedly said he was “100 percent” sure that it was, but police have insisted it’s not. Alberta plates—an old friend, perhaps? Maybe even a family member? Did she know what he had (allegedly) done, or what he was about to do? Why Hope? What’s going to happen to her now? The answers remain to be told.

• ANDREA WOO

Another morbid twist: As early as hours after the discovery, Walker was said to be offering tours of the room for $500 to the media. Inside Edition is one outlet that admitted to paying.

“I really have no problem with him charging money to let people on his property,” said a colleague of mine, who stealthily snuck into the room for free after a large news organization shelled out the dough. “But don’t fucking go on a rant about how the media glorifies this type of stuff, and act sympathetic, then try to cash in on it.”

Metro Vancouver newspaper reported today that Walker said the money went to help motel clients—many of whom are struggling with addiction and on social assistance—and is no longer accepting payments for the tour. “The money I did take made me feel so shitty because it’s blood money,” he told the newspaper, which did not pay the $500. “But if I can turn it into a better good, I will.”