Sam Nordquist, a 24-year-old from Minnesota, left his home last fall to be with a woman he had met online. Unfortunately, his journey ended tragically when he was killed while staying at Patty’s Lodge in Canandaigua, New York. Sam had been lured into a nightmarish situation, enduring torture and humiliation at the hands of a group of seven individuals, including the woman he had traveled across the country to be with. Despite his family’s concerns and pleas for authorities to check on him, Sam’s body was found dumped in a field, wrapped in plastic bags.
The suspects have been charged with murder and are currently in custody, but the motives behind this heinous act remain unclear. Sam’s mother has criticized the authorities for failing to protect her child, and LGBTQ activists see this case as a stark reminder of the dangers faced by marginalized communities in America. The suspects have not yet entered a plea, and the case continues to baffle prosecutors.
Sam had been infatuated with the woman he met online, who showered him with affection and attention. He traveled to Canandaigua to be with her, hoping for love and companionship. Despite initial signs of a happy relationship, things took a dark turn, and Sam’s friends and family grew increasingly worried when he failed to return home as planned.
The tragic story of Sam Nordquist serves as a chilling example of the cruelty that can exist in society, leaving those who knew him questioning the senselessness of his untimely death.
Sam had informed Linda that he was staying in Room 22 at Patty’s Lodge, a roadside hotel on the outskirts of Canandaigua, surrounded by farmland. The single-story pale, brown buildings with mismatched curtains stood in stark contrast to the vibrant Victorian homes along the city’s Main Street, as well as the grand mansions, yacht clubs, and luxurious hotels near Canandaigua Lake, the city’s shimmering centerpiece. Room 22 at Patty’s Lodge was where Sam Nordquist was reportedly subjected to a heinous sexual assault and torture.
Patty’s Lodge was not a typical tourist spot, but rather a place of last resort. Some individuals rented rooms for extended periods, often due to impending homelessness or other emergencies, with some stays subsidized by vouchers from the Ontario County Department of Social Services. Public records indicated that some occupants were registered sex offenders under the Ontario County Sheriff’s Office.
It remained unclear how Sam and Arzuaga had ended up at Patty’s Lodge, and whether anyone else was staying with them. On October 13, following concerns, Linda reached out to the New York State Police to request a wellness check on Room 22. Shortly after, Sam and Arzuaga reassured her over a call that all was well. Sam expressed his desire to remain there indefinitely to pursue his new relationship and assist Arzuaga in caring for her children.
When the state police conducted the wellness check later that day, Sam informed them that he did not require any medical or law enforcement assistance. Despite this, Linda felt that law enforcement had been misled and had not thoroughly investigated signs of distress. She believed that their concerns were downplayed, and Sam’s well-being was not adequately verified.
Despite the family’s suspicions about their relationship, Sam and Arzuaga presented a seemingly happy image online. Sam frequently shared videos on TikTok between September and November, showcasing the pair dancing and displaying affection towards each other. Arzuaga was described by Sam as his “ride or die,” “soul mate,” and “family” in various posts.
Desiree Tucker, who had dated Arzuaga intermittently between 2022 and 2024, revealed a darker side to their relationship. She disclosed that Arzuaga would physically harm her if she refused to participate in TikTok videos, presenting a façade of happiness to the public. Tucker also alleged that Arzuaga restricted her access to communication and social media, isolating her from her family at times.
In another troubling revelation, Tucker disclosed that Arzuaga had a history of physical abuse towards her, prompting her local police to inquire about Arzuaga on behalf of the New York State Police. Arzuaga is currently incarcerated and was unavailable for comment, while the Toronto police did not respond to requests for statements.
The family had attempted to maintain contact with him, but his responses to their calls and messages became less frequent. When he did reply, they mentioned that it was usually because they threatened to request more welfare checks to Room 22. He downplayed their worries, causing Linda to become more concerned. “He didn’t sound like himself. It’s as if he was being coached on what to say,” she expressed. “Sam lived with me his entire life. We were always together. So I know how Sam speaks – and this was not Sam.”
On December 4, Linda received an email from the Ontario County Department of Social Services, the town where Sam was residing. “I’m working with your son Sam. He asked me to contact you,” the worker wrote, as per a screenshot shared by Linda. “If you could please reach out to me as soon as you see this email.” In a subsequent phone call, the social services agent informed her that Arzuaga was controlling Sam’s cellphone use, that he wanted to return home to Minnesota, and was devising an “escape plan.” The agent also mentioned that Sam was expected to return to the social services office on December 19, but he never appeared, according to Linda. The county social services department did not respond to requests for comment.
Sam’s friend Seeger also sent messages every few days and received sporadic replies. A couple of days before New Year’s, Sam messaged Seeger saying everything was fine, he was staying at Patty’s Lodge, and planned to celebrate the holiday in New York. On New Year’s Day, Linda spoke briefly with Sam, wishing him a fresh start to 2025. “He kept the conversation short and said, ‘I love you and I’ll call you tomorrow,'” she recalled. That was the last conversation she had with him.
Patty’s Lodge. How could this have happened there? Sam’s time in New York turned into a nightmare. According to court documents, the torture began on New Year’s Day and continued for weeks. Seven individuals, including Arzuaga, held him captive in Room 22, subjecting him to a horrifying cycle of abuse. Authorities stated that the group kicked him, struck him with various objects, starved him, forced him to consume feces, urine, and tobacco spit, and committed sexual assaults using foreign items. Young children in the room were coerced into participating in some of the abuse, authorities disclosed. State Police Capt. Kelly Swift labeled Sam Nordquist’s murder as “one of the most appalling crimes I have ever probed.”
Throughout the weeks of torment in Room 22, there seemed to be no indication that any witnesses overheard the abuse. Officials noted that no one reported any suspicious activities at Patty’s Lodge during this time. The case prompted introspection in Canandaigua, with neighbors questioning how the crime remained undetected for so long. Tarra Morrice, a resident living near Patty’s Lodge
Sam Nordquist appeared at a rally in Canandaigua on February 22. Some individuals in the area are pushing for Patty’s Lodge to be held accountable for the incidents that occurred there. However, authorities have stated that the hotel is not currently under investigation for any wrongdoing. Despite this, government inspection records reveal that the hotel has long been a subject of complaints from residents, code enforcement officers, and the Department of Social Services regarding rodent and insect infestations.
Railyn Rogers, who spent three weeks in 2022 at Patty’s Lodge with her 3-year-old daughter under the care of the Department of Social Services, still resides in the area and frequently drives past the lodge. The memories of her experience, as well as what happened to Sam there, continue to trouble her deeply. She expressed a sense of guilt and horror over the situation.
Manny Patel, identified as an owner of Patty’s Lodge in city inspection records, declined to provide a comment when contacted by NBC News. He mentioned that he had spoken with investigators and had nothing further to add, stating, “I have no say in this.”
Concerns for Sam escalated as weeks passed with little to no response from him. His family, particularly his sister Kayla Nordquist, attempted to reach out to him through various means but to no avail. After contacting the New York State Police for another welfare check on Room 22, they were met with vague responses from individuals claiming not to know Sam. When the family persisted in their inquiries, the authorities eventually encountered Arzuaga, who stated that she and Sam had separated and he had left weeks earlier, according to his mother.
Despite the family’s attempts to report Sam as missing, they faced challenges in getting law enforcement to take immediate action. The State Police insisted that they had followed appropriate investigative steps upon receiving initial concerns about Sam. Sam’s family, however, believes that it was not until they filed a missing person report with the Oakdale Police Department on February 10 that the authorities began treating Sam as a missing person.
As the family continued their search for Sam, posting about it online, community members like Michelle Pickard from Farmington, New York, joined in the efforts to locate him. Pickard, driven by compassion and empathy, dedicated time to search for Sam and engage with local residents to raise awareness.
In their quest for answers, Sam’s family planned to travel to New York to conduct their own investigation. Linda, Sam’s mother, awaited her next paycheck to facilitate this endeavor.
Before she could arrange a trip to Canandaigua to search for her son, she had plans in mind. “We were going to make noise, drive around the streets blowing horns. I made 300 copies of flyers. We were going to distribute flyers on every door, every business, and even go door to door if necessary,” she tearfully shared. “If something was wrong or if Sam couldn’t go home, at least he could hear my voice and know that ‘Mom is here, Mom is searching.'” However, the opportunity never presented itself.
Sam Nordquist’s body was discovered in a field off Payne Road in Yates County, N.Y. Investigators found his decomposing body wrapped in plastic on February 13, about a 20-minute drive southeast of Patty’s Lodge. His body had likely been left there at the start of the month.
The following day, authorities announced the arrests of five individuals, including Arzuaga, Jennifer Quijano, Kyle Sage, Patrick Goodwin, and Emily Motyka, in connection with Sam’s death. Shortly after, two more suspects, Arzuaga’s son Thomas Eaves and Kimberly Sochia, were also arrested. They faced a slew of charges, including murder, kidnapping, conspiracy, and concealment of a human corpse. Some of them were additionally charged with aggravated sexual abuse and coercion.
The group’s motive for the heinous crime remains unclear, with authorities only mentioning that some were romantically involved, while others knew each other from the area. The suspects’ criminal backgrounds, including Goodwin’s status as a registered sex offender, have raised further questions about the case.
After Sam’s tragic death, an outpouring of love and support emerged. Friends, family, and even strangers who empathized with his story shared tributes online and attended vigils and protests in his honor. LGBTQ advocates have raised concerns about the case not being classified as a hate crime, drawing parallels to other well-known cases of violence against marginalized communities.
While the death was not labeled a hate crime, the prosecution proceeded with charges of first-degree murder, the most serious offense in New York state law. The prosecutor emphasized that the case was being pursued with the utmost seriousness, seeking a penalty of life in prison without parole, as New York does not have the death penalty.
Wolford expressed that reducing the charge to a hate crime based on Sam’s gender or race would oversimplify the situation. She emphasized that Sam’s story should be told in full. In Room 22 of Patty’s Lodge, Puerto Rican and rainbow flags were displayed. The investigation is ongoing, and court dates for the seven defendants have not been scheduled yet. The Nordquist family traveled to New York to meet with investigators and bring his body back to Minnesota for burial. At Patty’s Lodge, the children’s bicycles have been removed, and the flags have been replaced by white blinds. Nordquist’s body was found dumped off Payne Road in Yates County. If you or someone you know needs help with domestic violence, contact the National Domestic Violence hotline at (800) 799-SAFE (7233) or visit www.thehotline.org. Lavietes reported from Canandaigua, Schuppe from New York.
