The Impersonator

In the year since, she's found work and friendships. She told Brett about her dysfunctional childhood. She figured it would help him understand why the mere whiff of a certain type of stale cologne will throw her into a furious, manic outburst, or why she needs sleeping pills to make it through the bad dreams without kicking and punching the person lying next to her.

But she didn't try too hard to understand what Brett was doing. Why he would dress up like an EMT when he went drinking, for example. "Yeah, those [questions] always popped in my head," she admits now. "ŒWhy are you wearing a paramedic uniform? What's wrong with that? I know you're not a paramedic; why are you wearing it?' He just didn't respond to me. I don't know, I got really confused."

At Dubb's Pub, Brett had no problem talking about life as an EMT. Dubb's is a working-class joint with a taxidermied deer's ass over the bar, skillfully manipulated to look like the head of an apeman, a creature that the equally leathery-faced regulars refer to as "Dubb's Yeti." Mississippi, a bartender, remembers Brett well, since he was often telling stories about the gruesome scenes he'd encountered on his paramedic job that day.

"And I always knew it was bullshit," Mississippi snaps. "We got real nurses, real cops, real EMTs that come in here. You can tell when it's some phony."

She doesn't recall Sean ever showing up in a uniform, but she does remember Sean and Brett singing karaoke several nights a week. Sometimes Brett would sing in uniform. One of his favorite selections was "The Fireman," by country singer George Strait. The first verse goes:

Well they call me the fireman, that's my name.

Making my rounds all over town, putting out old flames

Well everybody'd like to have a what I got.

I can cool 'em down when they're smold'ring hot.

I'm the fireman, that's my name.

In May, Brett finally did his time for giving a fake name in Clear Creek County, serving 35 days in jail. After he was released, Karrissa noticed that he was spending less time with her and more time with Sean. She didn't like it. When it was just the two of them, Brett was so much more relaxed. "Because he didn't have to impress me, he didn't have to impress other people," she says. "We did what we wanted to do, and we didn't have to worry about what other people were thinking."

But with Sean, there was always this competitive push for better cars, better toys, better jobs and better girlfriends. On July 4, Karrissa was supposed to watch fireworks with Brett at his mom's house, but he never called. She found out later that he'd been at a hotel party the whole night with Sean and Megan, his Subway co-worker. The next evening, July 5, Karrissa and Brett had planned to see the hardcore band Disturbed at Coors Amphitheatre. Brett took Sean instead.

Karrissa decided to give Brett another chance. On the night of July 14, he called and said he was coming over to visit. Brett wanted to see Karrissa, but he didn't want to spend the night because he had to work the 5 a.m. shift at Subway the next morning, so he planned to tell her he had to go work at Denver Health that night. He was wearing his EMT uniform, sitting in Sean's Mustang along with a nineteen-year-old girl Sean had met a week before, when they came across an accident on East Evans Avenue. Sean stopped the car, and Brett jumped out to take a look.

EMS Captain Robert Loop was working the south side of the city on July 14 when he heard the call for a dispatch to a car accident at the intersection of East Evans and South Monroe. Denver Health has nine EMS captains strategically deployed throughout the city; their job is to monitor radios and respond to calls, then provide assistance until the Denver Fire Department or an ambulance arrives.

Emergency personnel are trained to move quickly and efficiently in such situations, working in concert. But as Loop and two other paramedics attended to the victims of the crash, Loop realized that there was one man in a white shirt whom he didn't recognize, walking around the crash site. Occasionally a paramedic driving to or from work might happen on the scene of an accident, but it's very peculiar to see a paramedic without a partner and without an ambulance. Then Loop noticed that the guy wasn't wearing an ID badge.

"Hey," he called to the unknown paramedic.

The guy stopped and turned toward him.

"What's your name?" Loop asked.

The guy answered, "Tony Martinez."

Loop didn't recognize the name. Something definitely wasn't right. "Come over here and talk to this officer for a second," Loop said.

The guy started walking down the street toward a car. When Loop followed, asking questions all the while, the guy made it to the car, then took off, running. One of the car's passengers, a tall female with short spiky hair, jumped in front of Loop. He radioed police dispatch about an individual impersonating an EMT.