‘That’s Your Murder,’ Town Tells California : Lifestyle: Many in Prescott, Ariz., already wary of refugees from the Golden State, turn nasty because of a grisly slaying with roots in the Southland.

Hotel desk clerk Katie Wintrol sees it nearly every day.

Moving vans, station wagons, pickups--all overloaded with furniture, housewares, parents and kids--pull into the Best Western for a night or two of lodging before the families put down roots in this picturesque mountain community.

The only problem, Wintrol says, is that most of the vehicles in her lot are coming from the same place: California.

“People here just hate Californians,” she said. “People are worried.”

The sentiment, like the aversions shared by Seattle and Portland, has been part of this town’s undercurrent for years. But nothing in recent months has done more to rekindle it than the discovery of Denise Huber’s frozen body in the back of a stolen rental truck parked in the driveway of a former Californian in nearby Dewey.

“That’s your murder and you should take it back,” bartender Alan Buller barked recently to a California visitor in Prescott’s famed Whiskey Row. “That guy just hauled her over here from California. We have our own troubles here, but killing people and putting them in a freezer is something else.”

One local judge recalled sharing the road with such a newcomer on the way home from a trip.

“It was like something right out of the ‘Beverly Hillbillies,’ ” he said of the ramshackle vehicle. “There were clothes hanging out the back. I remember thinking, please don’t make the turn at Prescott. Please don’t make the turn at Prescott.”

It turned.

Prescott’s mayor, a part-time Hollywood actor, dismisses such rumblings as “a load of crap from selfish people.”

Daiton Rutkowski, who belts out Jimmy Buffett tunes as he mixes milkshakes at his “De Ja Vu” soda fountain, said local no-growth advocates in particular have seized on the sensational slaying to sound the alarm against further migration, especially from California.

“This whole thing has been overblown,” Rutkowski said. “This could have happened anywhere. Hell, we (Prescott) had a city councilman stand up during a public meeting and shoot himself dead. You can’t blame that on California.”

“Sure, we are getting a lot of people in from California, but these are wonderfully talented, upper-class people,” he said. “They fit right in here.”

The popular Rutkowski may be the only mayor in 25 years to have won reelection here, but not all of his constituents share these views.

From his courthouse office, Yavapai County Atty. Charles R. Hastings has noticed a change that disturbs him. “We’re just experiencing a tremendous increase in all kinds of crimes, and there are a lot of people moving here from California.”

While Hastings won’t come right out and say it, others are downright blunt in assessing how the influx is changing a laid-back lifestyle in the clean air and bright sun.

To locals--many of them transplanted Californians themselves--the Golden State has become synonymous with rioting, bad cops, skyrocketing real estate, gridlock and crime. Especially crime.

Popular bumper stickers carry a stinging message: “Prescott used to be a nice place to live--until it became a suburb of California” and “Welcome to Prescott, Calif.”

Even the state’s flagship newspaper leaves no question about how Arizonans regard their neighbors to the west. Reporting the discovery of Huber’s body and the arrest of John J. Famalaro, the Arizona Republic carried the headlines: “Area gets California’s ugliness, too” and “California’s ugly side robs area’s innocence.”

Bob Kantak came from Detroit to Prescott--pronounced “PRESkitt” by the locals--in the late 1970s, more than enough time to be considered a native by local standards.

Kantak generally welcomes outsiders, but is soon disappointed with those who want to remake the place, uttering remarks such as, “This isn’t the way we used to do it back in California.”

“Good ideas are always welcome, but give us a break,” said Kantak, who lives just outside of town. Out his way, new arrivals are now talking about street lights. “Give a small-town atmosphere a chance,” he said.

Some locals make it clear that they wouldn’t mind having some major roads into town blocked completely.

Commenting on a recent Money magazine article naming Prescott the country’s No. 1 place to retire, one resident said only half-jokingly, “That was one of the worst things ever to happen to Prescott.”

But if the no-growthers dislike even migrant retirees and professionals from the Golden State, others see a different menace.

After a recent trip to California, Prescott Peace Justice Robert W. Kuebler Jr. created a gang suppression task force. Only 95 known gang members are in the area, according to sheriff’s records, but authorities feel that many have ties to Southern California.

“I see it a lot with people (in court),” Kuebler said. “I look at their backgrounds and see they’re from California or from somewhere else.”

Said Yavapai County Administrator Jim Holst: “Don’t get us wrong. We’re not against growth and people who want to come here and join our community. But we just can’t let this turn into another Los Angeles.”

Mayor Rutkowski said such comparisons can’t be supported--yet.

“I can tell you honestly that I don’t feel much difference in walking the streets here when there were 6,000 people back in the 1940s than I do today with 30,000,” the Prescott native said. “If people don’t change, they become boors. It’s the same thing with cities and towns. If people want some peace and quiet, they can go down the road.”

The mayor admits to some worry over a planned 1,000-unit housing development, but is confident that the city is prepared for that growth.

Too much has been made of the negative California associations since the discovery of Huber’s body, the mayor said.

“An idiot goes nuts, OK. It happens. The guy could just as easily been from Missouri. They have weird people there too, you know.

“This is still the greatest place on earth,” Rutkowski said, rapping his knuckle on the wooden bar at the De Ja Vu. “Right here.”