Hearts Unlocked

Hearts Unlocked

A Trilogy of Mystery and Love

William Howard

Copyright 2017 by William Howard

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Contents

Skylar’s Secret

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Durango Detective

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

The Wyoming State Trooper

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Skylar’s Secret

Chapter One

Present Day: Rapid City, South Dakota

A seasonal news reporter, Skylar Stevens came prepared to the Wounded Warrior interview. Sitting at a corner table in eh Delmonico Grill on Main Street, she took out her hand-held recorder from her purse and put it next to a writing pad. Skylar found a pen inside her purse and put it down on the table near the writing paper. She patiently waited for the interviewee to arrive.

Skylar noticed a waitress dressed in a white uniform with food stains on her apron approaching. The waitress asked Skylar, Do you want to see a lunch menu?

No, she answered with a smile. Only coffee with cream. I’m waiting for someone.

Sure, said the waitress, returning with a full coffee cup just seconds later.

A tall handsome man who had the cut of military walked into the restaurant. He was a sheriff’s deputy, wearing a tan khaki uniform and black boots. On his right side was a 9-mm Glock pistol.

Skylar perked up and motioned him to her table hoping he was the person coming to the interview.

He saw Skylar and approached the table. She greeted him with an outstretched hand.

Good afternoon, she said to him. Are you Mr. Roberts?

The sheriff’s deputy shook her hand and replied Yes, but please feel free to call me Marty.

Good, she said. Marty, I’m Skylar Stevens, the newspaper reporter from the Rapid City Journal. Please sit down and join me for a cup of coffee.

Marty sat down at the table on a plush leather chair studying Skylar’s young face. She was an attractive light skinned black woman with caramel facial features. He hadn’t expected to meet with a Black news reporter in Rapid City.

Skylar explained herself saying As I shared with you on the telephone, I’m writing a feature story about posttraumatic stress disorder. I’m interviewing military soldiers returning from combat in Afghanistan. I contacted the Rapid City Veterans Affairs clinic and asked them to post a notice for interviews. Three people responded to my request; a former Marine Officer, a Pilot from Ellsworth Air Force Base, and you. I understand you’re a former Navy SEAL, correct?

Yes, that’s correct.

Do you mind if I record our interview? she asked.

No, I don’t mind.

Well, let’s start the interview, Skylar suggested.

Coffee? a waitress interrupted them.

I’ll take a cup with cream Marty told the waitress.

Ready? asked Skylar, turning on the cassette tape recorder.

The waitress returned to their table with a cup of coffee and cream, leaving them immediately.

Well let’s start the interview. By the way, you’ll be anonymous in the article she said, picking up the pen to take notes. Tell me about yourself and provide some background information.

I was born in Rapid City. My father is a realtor with Prudential and my mom serves as the bookkeeper at the agency. I played sports as a kid and graduated from Central High School. After graduating I joined the Navy.

How old were you? she asked Marty.

Eighteen, fresh out of high school. During basic training I tested out high with strong scores during the obstacle course. My drill trainer instructor suggested I should apply for the seals program. I didn’t know much about it but he told me it was an honor to become a SEAL. After basic training they sent me to the SEAL Naval Amphibious Base in Coronado, California. When I arrived, it was quite a shock. Several recruits were washed out the first week but I was determined to become a SEAL so I stuck with the intense training, Marty told the newspaper reporter.

What happened next? she asked, taking notes on the writing pad.

After nine months of rigorous training I got shipped to Afghanistan, a member of SEAL Team-8.

How was your Afghanistan tour of duty?

Marty continued saying I was there for eighteen months of blood and guts. I had problems seeing some of my buddies get wounded or die. It was like the Afghan people didn’t want us there. I came home disappointed and was diagnosed with posttraumatic stress disorder.

What were the symptoms? she asked, looking concerned.

I have vivid nightmares about having our SEAL team attacked by militants and taken hostage. That was my greatest fear as a SEAL, being captured.

Do you have daytime flashbacks? she asked Marty.

No.

Do you take medication?

No, there is no real good medication for PTSD.

Do you have a new career now that you’re home?

Yes, I am a SWAT team member with the local Pennington County Sheriff’s Department. There isn’t a big demand for a SWAT team so I act as a regular sheriff most of the time he told Skylar.

I noticed your uniform and handgun. How is your civilian job going? she asked.

The child abuse and domestic violence cases are hard on me, but I’m coping and generally happy with my law enforcement career he replied.

Thank you for agreeing to be interviewed, she said.

I’m just trying to get the word out about veterans with PTSD, he said.

You did a good job telling your story. It will help with my newspaper article, she said, turning off the recorder.

"I’m looking forward to reading your article in the Journal. Goodbye," he said, standing up.

Thank you and goodbye, she said.

Marty walked across the restaurant floor and out the front door, returning to duty in his patrol car. Skylar checked her wristwatch. It would be fifteen minutes until her next interview with the Air Force Pilot. She organized her notes and sipped some more coffee from the cup, thinking she would never see the handsome Marty Roberts again.

Chapter Two

Alex, you drop those blue jeans and lay down on your bed, right now. I’m tired of putting up with you. His mother’s voice was loud and menacing. Alex knew better than to protest his punishment.

His mother yelled at Alex, saying, You wet the bed again last night like a baby. How many times are you going to wet yourself in bed before you grow up?

The thirteen-year-old-boy’s voice quavered answering I won’t do it again, I promise. He wasn’t good at lying and he knew what his mother had in mind.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Agnes Usher was an alcoholic and a child abuser. As a single parent, she was under financial pressure and a great deal of stress. She worked part time sorting clothes at the local Goodwill Store. Alex never knew his father who had abandoned the family early on during her pregnancy. Alex was an only child. He could smell alcohol and stale cigarettes on his mother’s breath.

The mother took out a leather strap from the bedroom dresser and lifted it up high over her shoulder. Alex could hear the air hiss as the strap came down, gaining momentum as it descended. It

Struck his buttocks hard and he began to cry out in pain. The belt swung down on his body again and again with force until he shrieked continually. After several blows his bladder let go and the sheet on the mattress become wet.

Seeing the wet spot on the bed, his mother yelled There you go again, Alex. You can’t control yourself. Thirteen years old and you’re still wetting the bed. What a baby.

Alex feared the beating would cause black and blue bruises across his ass cheeks. After noticing the marks he worries about being teased by the boys in his gym class. His mother continued to beat him severely until his body felt numb with pain. The belt hurt him bad.

Four years later, his mother stopped whipping Alex with the belt, but the verbal abuse was an avalanche of insults. She loved calling him a parasite. Alex felt doubtful about himself and had feelings of inadequacy. The childhood beatings were unfair, unpredictable, destructive and wicked. At seventeen years old, he was obese with a severe acne problem. Alex was teased constantly by the other students in school. The male students bullied