These log entries are intended to tell my story as it happened along with the emotions I feel in the present as I recall the event. I will give my personal analysis of the situation at the time and where my head was at.  Of course these are my memories and my recollection which might be a bit flawed as time has passed and memory formation is complex and often faulty.

So here we go.                                                                ~~~ "Existence Precedes Essence" Jean-Paul Sartre ~~~

I have been sick to my stomach for 2 days after launching the Skippers logs. I am by nature pretty introverted and self contained. Opening up on this website and eventually on my social media is so very strange and icky 🥴.  This is why it has taken me so long to launch this site and prepare for the book publishing.   My take has always been to put on a brave face and don't let anybody see you sweat.  Don't share your darkness or struggles in public.   Put on a happy face when you leave the house, or don't leave the house at all.   I will charge ahead, however.   Thank you ALL for reading my posts.   I do have analytics on this site and on insta, so I am aware of the general visitation numbers.  ☮️ Peace my brothers and sista's.  ☮️

After speaking and texting with Scott, I settled into my weekend.  On Saturday my nephew and his wife came over to peruse my attic for baby items, as they were expecting their first child.  It was a cold and dreary weekend as I remember.  I didn't leave the house and just felt doomy and gloomy.  On Monday I was NOT feeling great and barely made it out of bed, but I made it to work.  By Tuesday morning my body had shut down a bit and my mood was terrible.  I called out sick to work on Tuesday and again on Wednesday.   I did not hear that Scott had missed his gig nor that he was unaccounted for.   No one reached out to me -- at all.   I decided to go to the grocery store Wednesday around 1:00 pm.   Little did I know just an hour or two earlier, Scott's vehicle has been towed off from the same grocery store parking lot about 4 spaces away from where I parked that day.   I had completed my shopping and was waiting in a checkout line.   My cell phone rang.   It was a close friend of Scott's.  She simply stated, "Scott's been murdered."  I recall partially collapsing onto the grocery cart.

I tried to get my bearings and told her that I would call her back in a few minutes.   I got up to the cashier and told her that I just got some really shocking news.  Could she check out the groceries and ensure that I had my credit card and purse at the end of the transaction?  She obliged and I somehow got to my vehicle and loaded my groceries.  I got in the driver's seat and sat there dumbfounded for quite some time.

Sitting in my Toyota and once I gained my composure, I returned Scott's friend's call.  She told me there had been a body found up the Poudre Canyon on Monday and identified today as Scott. She said that the police were looking for his trumpet as perhaps the unfortunate event was the result of a robbery gone wrong.  I don't remember much else about that day. I know I would have reached out to my best friend Debby, a couple of close friends, and two of my sisters.  

I think grief and disbelief were the emotions of the moment. I don't recall being overwrought though, just shocked. I found online articles about a body located on Old Flowers Road and Pingree Park Road. I knew I had to get to work the next day, so I took a valium and a sleeping pill...

The next day on February 13th, I was fully expecting to receive a phone call from the police, but none came.  After work I went home and spent the evening theorizing with friends what might have happened to Scott. I looked at pictures, listened to music that reminded me of him, listened to old voice mails, and read texts between the two of us.  Got to bed late but with the help of Ambien, got to sleep. 

The next day I went to work, February 14th 2020.  I still had not heard anything from anybody (except the original phone call from his close friend).  I finally reached out to the manager/drum player of the Movers and Shakers and asked him who he had talked to in the Larimer County Sheriff's office. He gave me a name and a phone number.   I proceeded to call, and left a voicemail.  I stated who I was and my relationship to Scott.  I said that I would be happy to assist in the investigation.

I went home for lunch. Received a phone call from a friend who happened to work in the IT help desk. She said that two Larimer County Sheriff's investigators had been there looking for me.  She told them I was probably at lunch and they told her they would return later.  I jumped in my car and went back to work.

The stress and pressure was starting to get to me. I was a county technology employee in a county adjacent to Larimer County.  I went to see my big boss to inform him of what was going on.  He volunteered his office for the investigators and I to talk. Around 1:30 or so, I got a call that the investigators had returned. Technology is a secure facility, so I went and let them in and led them back to my office.  I closed the door.  They introduced themselves and explained why they were there.  I told them that I had called a person in Larimer County a few hours ago.  I gave them the number, they called it and it went to voicemail.  I guess that person was off that day. They seemed relieved that I had already volunteered my assistance.  They told me that they had an interview room prepared for me in the Weld County Sheriff's office.  They said I could drive my vehicle. They escorted me out of the building, one investigator waited for me in his car at the end of the parking lot, I fell in behind his car and followed. The other officer created a convoy and followed me in his vehicle.   The room where we were going was in the next building over a block away.

The first police "interview" / "interrogation"  of my life was too soon to follow. Indeed the "Feast of Saint Valentine." 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤💔 

Of course, there is enough trauma to share with everyone...

I believe that when confronted with life's challenges, each of us largely contributes to the creation of additional wounds, the festering of those sores, and the damage done to our own psychies. I went all in on the FREAK OUT aspect of this event.  The unknowns in the case early on, my ignorance of criminal law, lack of knowledge of general police procedure, and my own neurotic tendencies sent me and the people I know down paths that did not need to be traveled.

While I was waiting for the investigators to come to my office, I tried to call an old flame who was a judge.   I wanted to know what I should say, how I should handle a police interview.   The call went to voicemail.  I waited and waited.  No call back.  He later told me that this may affect his life and/or livelihood, and that is why he didn't call back.  

After the interview I went into my big boss's office and melted down, worried that I was going to be on Dateline someday as the guilty party for Scott's murder, for the first 30 minutes of the show.   He for sure thought I was crazy and overreacting.  But, I knew things he didn't...

Not knowing if they were going to take my phone or get into Scott's phone was the basis for much anguish, stress and worry.

In the hours after the "interview" I thought the responsible thing to do was to call a man I had recently dated that was a track and field coach at the Air Force Academy and inform him of what was going on.  I know he used government equipment (phones/ipads) to communicate with me and I wanted to warn him of the possibility that they were going to take my phone.  I am sure that made his day!

That same day, I went to a friend at work for support and she had me go talk to the IT manager that handled the sheriff's office and jail video recordings.   I was worried that my co-workers would be able to look at the interview and/or see transcripts.  Little did I know that all things related to the case were eventually available to the public.....  He assured me that he thought my privacy was safe. 

My best friend Debby spent thousands of hours discussing this event with me and at one time early on in the case, I really traumatized her as she had informed me that Heather (the 2nd victim and one of the original suspects) had got her nails done at my salon, the Tuesday after Scott was taken to the mountains and left there to burn - all alone in the Rocky Mountains.  I lost my sh#t with Debby and she was not right for a couple of weeks. 

On the same Valentine's day, two of my sisters came over in the evening to take care of me.   They both knew Scott.   There were items about Scott and I that I had to fess up about.  Then they talked me into driving by Scott's house that night.  Little did we know that we were being watched and followed.  The crime and both of those revelations left them a little off-center for a while too.

Another girlfriend spent a few random nights at my house, also watching out for me.   Talking, advising, theorizing, and care-taking.  My sisters and friends started a group chat excluding me, where they could discuss me without worrying about my unanticipated reactions.    My emotions were all over the board.   The trauma REALLY grabbed a stronghold of me on Valentines day 2020, and got progressively worse through the weekend and into the following 2 weeks.  The PTSD and chronic stress and worry continued for a couple of years - for a million reasons.

During the first couple of weeks one sister accidently said Scott had been dismembered.. I thought she had read something I hadn't seen yet.  I had a mental break that day and she had to witness and endure that.

To the less extent but justifiably difficult for people:

• 10 days sor so after all this started I was told that a director at the office had told his staff that my situation was to NOT be talked about until after the trial, since Kevin Eastman was going to be tried in Weld County (our employer).   

• The subject of Scott casually came up in a discussion with a manager one day.  I told him that he had met Scott once at my house.  He uncomforably blurted out to me, I DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE MURDER!  That left me speechless.   Not sure what the genesis for that reaction was, but I felt bad that anything was said at all.

• Some people at work didn't know about the event for years.  Some did, spoke behind my back (heard through others) and never mentioned it at all.  These are people I worked with closely and every day.  They never said "Sorry for your loss" or "I bet you are having a rough time" or "Reach out if you need something".   Nothing.  That is when you find out who your friends are and who is just a co-worker.  I left that job 5 years later and only remain in contact with my friends.

Neighbors, distant family members, future boyfriends.  All were not immune from the vortex of the crime either.   

Scott's death was big news here in Greeality Colorado.  

Lauretta (the author and website creator) is led into an interrogation room at the Weld County Jail. It is Friday January 14, 2020, 1:30 pm 'ish.  

Let me catch you up. Scott's smoldering body had been found earlier in the week on Monday January 10, 2020 in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. Scott's dad, Stan had reported Scott missing on Monday also.   From a fingerprint scan at the scene of where the body was found (by a show plow driver), they had identified the deceased as Stanley Scott Sessions.  Scott had a criminal record, so his fingerprints were in the system for quick identification.  They had talked to Stan and to band members from both of Scott's bands (Movers and Shakers and Elvis Experience).   They had gotten cell phone tracking information on Scott's phone to see the approximate location of the last ping on his phone.   Scott's dad had indicated that Scott was headed over to Fort Collins to see some friends on the night of his disappearance. He also had explained to law enforcement about Scott's love life and the tumultuous nature of his most recent relationship with me.  The Larimer County Sheriff's office had coordinated and deployed over 20 police officers to Fort Collins and eventually Greeley.  On Friday morning they interviewed one of Scott's previous girlfriends Laura in Fort Collins (not Lauretta....) and then headed over to surprise Lauretta at work.

As a self described gum addict, I entered the interview room and asked for something to put my gum in, they gave me facial tissue and I removed the gum from my mouth, placed it in tissue and set it on the table. I guess I was giving them my DNA, without them asking... Turns out they had already gone through my trash and found hair and saliva samples.   I am not sure that collection of my trash was a legal search and seizure as I don't put my trash cans on a public sidewalk or street for refuse pickup.  I found out about this nugget of investigative evidence by watching the ABC 20/20 episode.  They put up on the TV screen a picture of my bedroom trash bag...   That is another traumatic event that I experienced on this journey, which I will speak of later.

You should know that the full interview/interrogation of me from that day is publicly available.I have not sought it out yet, as I don't if I could stand to watch it.  But I will plan on doing that, and comparing my memory of the event with actual footage of what took place in that room.  I will come back and make trackable corrections to these notes.

Scott's phone lost power from a depleted battery approximately at 4:00 am on Sunday February 9th.  The last ping that Scott's phone sent was to a Verizon phone tower located on Dayspring Christian Academy located at 3734 W 20th St, Greeley.   I don't want to put my address here, but let's just say my house number is plus or minus 13 (37XX W 20th Street, Greeley).  I am sure the police thought they had found their MAN!  And that man's name was Lauretta.

The investigators were very professional and I was very stressed. They asked me about the last time I saw Scott, which had been in early January at a show in Fort Collins at Avogrado's Number.  They asked when was the last time I spoke to Scott.  I told them Friday February 7th.  I got the exact time by looking at my call logs on my phone and showing them.   They asked about what we talked about on that last phone call.  Earlier in the Skipper's notes, you can see what we talked about.  I showed them the text messages that I had sent to Scott after our phone call also.  One of those is listed in the Skipper Notes too.

As I recall, at this point in the interview, the lead investigator was very careful about how he asked the questions and what he said.  He said some very vague things about what had happened to Scott and asked a lot of open ended questions, which of course I fed right into with way tooooo much information. I am sure the investigator thought that if  I was the killer, this conversation needed to hold up in court. Again, had I known what I know now, I would not elaborate as much as I did, I would not add all the extra information and I would only answer with only exactly what was required.  You ask, why would it matter Lauretta, if you are not guilty? Because this conversation was listened to and analyzed by law enforcement, district prosecuting attorneys, defense attorneys, media outlets, tv producers and writers and it goes on and on.  These people talk amongst themselves, to their co-workers, to their spouses, and to their friends.  Some of these people - I worked with, lived in the same neighborhoods with them, were friends with my friends and neighbors.  It was crazy what I didn't know about what people were saying, and what I actually heard that individuals were saying.  Ideas, theories, culpability, evidence, types of weapons, etc.  Things about me and details about the investigation from court workers and court attendees. It goes on and on.  I didn't know this is how the world worked.  I was truly stupid and naive.  Of course this is how things work.....People are only human.

In subsequent posts I will elaborate more on this "interview."

Please take my advice. If you ever find yourself in an interrogation or interview, just answer the questions minimally. This is not a judgement on law enforcement in any way.  Speaking less is a way to protect yourself and your privacy.  Had I felt that my privacy was still secure, I probably would NOT have created this website, went on 20/20,  nor exposed more information in these Skipper posts.   "Never let your tongue be your worst enemy." — John "Sonny" Franzese 

Peace out, Lauretta 

There were two investigating officers in the interview room with me.  There was not a "good" cop and a "bad" cop - they were just two guys trying to find out who killed Scott.  At the beginning of the questioning, I was their best bet. At this point I didn't know that Scott's cell phone last pinged 200 feet from my house. I didn't know that Stan (Scott's Dad)  had thrown me under the bus in his version of a story about an incident with Scott and I that resulted in Scott getting arrested. I didn't know that they had just spoken to the ex-girlfriend that came before me. I knew nothing except what I had heard that day in the King Soopers Parking Lot from his friend, 48 hours earlier.

If there was a nugget of information that I could provide to investigators that helped them find Scott's killer, that was my goal. I told them where he filled his vehicle with auto fuel. I spoke of his daily habits.  They asked about anybody that Scott owed money to or had a "beef" with.  They referred to a conflict with a music promoter from the Elizabeth Hotel / Magic Rat venue.  I told them that I thought it was all bluster from Scott and didn't think that was anything worth pursuing.  

Recalling to them and the recording equipment that the last time I spoke to Scott I could sense that there might be another woman in Scott's life as he was being a little cagey and didn't ask me to hang out over the weekend.  I had felt relief that he was finally moving on. I admitted that I was still in contact with and occasionally "saw" Scott even though there was a court ordered restraining order on Scott that prevented him from being within 100 feet of me, texting me, or calling me. We talked about the incident that resulted in the restraining order. The reported skirmish was a bit of a sticky wicket for me as Scott is the one that called the police that evening (July 15, 2018). I was surprised when the police showed up at my door that evening in 2018. I will tell that story in another post.   

I told them that I knew that his ex-girlfriend Laura had filed a restraining order against Scott a few years ago. I had found the associated lawyers paperwork at his house, one time when I was cleaning his place. I also mentioned that Scott had told me he spent time in jail over an incident with his ex-wife when he lived in Colorado Springs in the late nineties or early two thousands.   He got sent to rehab after that, for marjiana addiction, can you imagine that?!?!?  Poor Scott.  Also there were some issues with a woman from the Mormon church that he was seeing and one of her kids called the police on Scott as they thought Scott was stalking her.  I knew I was not the only crazy relationship that Scott had had.  That is why I felt that Stan threw me under the bus.

** uh-oh digression paragraph ** 

The personality trait that allows me to analyze a situation, see a myriad of possibilities and causes, paired with strong empathy and a good self-awareness that recognizes my own craziness and flaws --- keeps me in relationships, friendships, jobs, etc. longer than I should.  It is not that I want to fix anybody, it is that I understand what it is like to be broken, to struggle, to lose your compass in life sometimes. Scott's temper and alter ego (his name was Luther) - was scary and unpredictable. However, you could see that Scott struggled with so many aspects of life that I (and I suspect past girlfriends) just wanted to give him a safe space to calm down and feel love in a way that would benefit him in the long run.  I think the Mormon church did a lot of great things for Scott but also screwed him up.  All flavors of religious fervor often result in the truly faithful having strong inner conflicts,  These manifesting into emotional or psychological issues - especially in those that have a predisposition or low tolerance for cognitive dissonance. I too, struggle with this but not with religion.  For example, the current state of world politics makes me anxious and overwhelmed because nothing makes sense anymore. Words don't have the same meaning as they did the day before. I get when you are told one thing, but it doesn't ring true for you.  Scott was in conflict with his church, his politics, and with himself the whole time I knew him.  

Cognitive dissonance is the mental discomfort experienced when holding two plus contradictory beliefs, values, or behaviors. Proposed by Leon Festinger in 1957, it causes psychological tension, prompting people to rationalize, justify, or change actions to restore consistency. It causes feelings of guilt, shame, or embarrassment. 

 ** end of digression paragraph, sorry  ** 

Fan girls.  That is what I called the women at gig shows that grabbed the butts of the band members, gave them kisses, flirted, and otherwise tried to feel their wild oats.  I am sure the atmosphere and the liquor played a big part and I always thought that it was pretty harmless.  I talked about that with the investigators too.  Could one of those women be part of Scott's gruesome death?   Side note, even though it was never talked about in court, Scott had met Heather in November of 2019 at a show at "Dazzle Denver." approximately two and a half months before Scott was killed.

Law enforcement never called me a suspect, a person of interest, or any other title. During that time in that examination room I didn't contemplate, even for a moment that they thought I could have killed Scott.   

The interview/interrogation/questioning continued. 

I am probably not recalling the exact wording that the investigator used - as it does NOT sound like what a policeman might say.  But, I  still remember the investigator's face when he said that to me about midway through the questioning.  I think the  suspicion was still targeted at me, and he was trying to rattle my cage.   But that remark rattled around in my brain for 9 months, until the preliminary hearing in October of 2020 in the Weld County Courts.   I had no idea how Scott was killed, where he was killed or much of anything related to the actual murder.  I heard rumors along the way, but my brain spent endless hours hypothesizing what might have happened.  Everything from torture, dismemberment, violent rape, or forced drug injections.  You name it.  I went dark and I left myself with emotional issues that I am not sure I have fully recovered from, even today.   Sometime after the preliminary hearing, I talked to the lead investigator and I told him about my mental pain over this element of the murder.  He stated to me: "You could have just asked me, I would have told you." ....................ugh......................................

As the questioning continued, they asked if I had his email address, I gave that to them.  I believe that is when everything changed.  As I understand now, there was an investigator at Scott's house while I was being interviewed.   I think they were in constant communications with this police officer.  This guy had found a list of passwords, and I think that knowing his email gave them the ability to get authorized and get access to Scott's facebook messenger.  All of a sudden the mood of the interrogation room changed dramatically.  The lead investigator looked distracted and agitated.  They abruptly thanked me for my help, ended the interview and the 6 foot 6 inched investigator walked me out to my vehicle.  He told me about all the police that were combing the streets of Fort Collins and assured me that they were going to find out who did this to Scott.

In later conversations with the lead investigator, I was told that that moment in the interview that I refer to in the last paragraph was when they got into Scott's facebook messenger account and found out about Heather.  He said they raced south on 35th avenue towards Heather's apartment.  In that car ride, he said that he told his partner that he didn't think I was capable of murder.  

For a long time I pictured "the Calvary" racing down 35th Avenue, a street I know so well.  I know these guys could not do much without a warrant or anything else, so I am not sure about the specifics on this day for the police.  I do know that they put up a camera pointed at the parking lot and the "walkway" to Heather's home.  ** Remember this camera and the walkway.  **  The camera.. for another Lauretta trauma story that occurs 2 days later.  

That specific walkway....  I knew it well - too.  After I learned that Scott had been murdered in that apartment (information was released in a preliminary hearing in October 2020)  I created an image in my mind that got me through the darkest moments of this long ordeal.  I can still picture this vision clear as day.  In my heart, I believe this is exactly how it played out. On that fateful Saturday evening when Scott was summoned to Heather's apartment, he got out of his car and literally skipped up that concrete path, he had just put on expensive cologne and had a spearmint lifesaver in his mouth.  He was humming a tune because he thought he was going to spend time with someone he liked and there was a good chance he was going to get laid.  His heart was filled with song and joy until the very last moment when his throat was slit.  I have done much research on how long a brain still processes information after the spinal column is severed.  I might share that later.  I still believe that there was only a few seconds that his body automatically fought back. His brain never understood the gravity of the situation.  His brain went into sensory overload and was filled with vibrant colors and loud vibrational sounds.   

In my mind, Scott was happy and ecstatic the very moment he died. 🎺 ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹I am so thankful for this notion.  

For the record, I am going to repeat this fact many many times.  Scott was NOT a JAZZ musician.  He did not play jazz and was not particularly fond of the genre.  He played many other types of music, but Rhythm and Blues, Funk, Soul, Rock n Roll - those were his jams.

That is it for this post :-) 

In my world, the 70's, 80's and 90's seems like a simpler time.  Was it? probably not.  My parents, the school system, family, news outlets, etc. kind of protected us from all of the ugliness.  If you were lucky like me, there were no major traumas or crimes in my circle of influence.  I was valiantly fighting for the rights of the marginalized and we were slowly progressing forward.  It was slow but moving in the right direction.  I remember having a meltdown with the bank on a refinance of my home, because I wanted my name as primary on the loan. I made more money than my husband at that time, but I felt that it was time for women to be acknowledged for all that they do in the home or outside. The bank would not make me primary on the mortgage loan. That was in 2002. Alas, we were striving for a more perfect union, fairness and blah blah blah.  The future was bright.

You see yourself in a certain way.  Always trying to do the right thing, perfect credit score, clean home and yard, nice car, vacation home, volunteer, philanthropist, etc.  Then one day someone you know get murdered. That naive and sheltered person does not expect to hear the things you hear.  You have always tried to do the right things.  Then someone says.. Yeah, me and the band don't really think you killed Scott.

After the police interview I went back to work. I went into my big boss's office and told him what had happened.  I was feeling  the pressures of the week and it was starting to get to me.  I said "what if Dateline comes to town and what if, and what if....." I was worried and melting down a bit.  He said to me "Did you murder him?".  I said, "Of course not."  Then he said "Well, then calm down."  Those words hit hard. I saw myself as someone that would NOT murder anybody.  I knew I was feeling the loss of a friend and that the story was complicated. 

That is when the change started happening for me. In the next few years, I got tough and weathered, and became hardened. For me, this all started in 2020 and the world was about to go through a shared trauma like none we had ever seen. Political theater  had reached an all time crescendo  in partisanship acts, rhetoric noise and lies dressed as hyperbole.  It all makes me laugh now or sometimes cry.  We had no idea how bad it was going to get. The future, quite honestly does not look bright. I learned a lot about people in those years and since.  We all have.  When I was young, people used to refer to me as effervescent (bubbly, vivacious, sparkling, exuberant).  I had no children, a great career and loved everyone and never said no to a party.  I was filled with hope and dreams. 

~~ I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth. Umberto Eco ~~

After all this heaviness I thought I would write a more cherry post

A video came up on insta the other day.  It has my favorite soundtrack: "Tony and Ezeqiel."   People cut animal videos over this dialogue audio clip and the results are fantastic and sooo funny.  4 or 5 years ago when I first time I saw one of these videos.  I laughed hysterically and then immediately got very very sad.  This was a video / joke that I would have immediately sent to Scott. No matter where we were, who we were dating, or life's current events I would have sent to him and waited anxiously for his response.  He would have called back and we would have laughed and laughed.  This is what Scott and I did.  We had a similar warped sense of humor.  He would come over with his joke gun, chamber fully loaded and try to make me pee my pants.  Here a link to a Tony and Ezequel instragram video.  **turn on the volume **  https://www.instagram.com/reel/DH2o3CbA8QF/?igsh=Ymw5bGxzdWQ4a3Iz   Scott would have gotten such a kick out of it.  

He had never heard of Dirty Johnny Jokes.  Those were from my childhood. They are now called Little Johnny Jokes.  I turned Scott onto these and we would search far and wide on the internet for new ones to see if we could get the other person to collapse from laughter.  Here is a clean one from facebook **turn on the volume ** https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1BYiMQteYE/

The reason I tell you about all this is because in my last post, I talked about the murder apartment.  For 8 1/2 months I thought that is where Heather was killed. Turns out that is where Scott took his last breath.  After this revelation, I did many strange things when I walked past the murder apartment with my dogs. I would bring little yellow ribbons and tack to the elm tree in front of the apartment.  I would also stop and talk to Scott a lot.  I thought that there might be a tear in the space/time continuum, right there on the front steps -  where Scott could hear me.. or something like that.  One of the topics of conversation was joke telling.  I would find a really funny joke and tell it to Scott - out loud - looking straight at the apartment.  I never got a laugh, but I kept trying.  

Eventually a woman moved into that apartment with young children and I tried to be less obvious about it.  She did put up a camera at some point.  That is when I stopped talking to Scott.   😔

The evening after taking the walk to the murder apartment, I still didn't know what had happened to Scott, where it happened, why it happened and who was responsible.  The police were looking for a murderer.  During times like these people think strange notions. My girlfriend and I were starting to imagine murder plots and insane ideas like that.  My girlfriend started worrying that her life was in danger. I did the same for a bit. I was really spiraling out of control. My friend and sister proposed that I call the investigator and speak to him. Calming my nervous system was number ONE priority.  I went upstairs to my bedroom and called the lead investigator.  He did not answer. I then attempted to call the other investigator, but during that effort, Justin called me right back.  I answered.

Upon explaining my mindset and why I was reaching out, Mr. Atwood was extremely accommodating.  He did not tell me that they had arrested a suspect that day, nor that they had found Heather's body. He assured me that I was safe and told me a couple of personal stories that I think was his attempt to settle my nerves.   One of the stories in particular was about a person in his life that had inadvertently caused another person to lose their life.  I reacted with silence and listened.  I will note that Justin was nothing but supportive on this call.   I did wonder though, was he thinking that I had done something to cause Scott's demise.  I had no idea what that story meant.  I ended the conversation and thanked him.

Quite honestly, the investigator did provide a little relief, but that story he told started rolling around in my neurotic brain.  Within a few minutes I was back where I started and in a state of extreme distress.

I returned to the kitchen.  My sister and friend could see I was still very very upset.  We decided that I needed emergency mental healthcare. My sister suggested my employer's EAP.  An  EAP is a Employee Assistance Program which provides Short-term counseling, stress management, grief support, and legal/financial consultations. I got on my company's HR website, looked up the number and called.  I explained the situation to the representative.  She said that she would have one of their on-call therapists contact me immediately.  I bid adieu to that evening's support staff (my best friend and my oldest sister) so they could go home and get some rest.   Within 15 minutes I was on a call with a therapist who did her job for me.  She calmed me, gave me some perspective and got me back on level ground.  She said that she would put in a request for 6 sessions with a local therapist and gave me the names of some companies in Greeley that they worked with.  I would call those in the morning to schedule appointments.  

I also sent a text to a medical doctor that I formerly used as a general practitioner.  I told him the severity of the situation.  He returned my text and gave me the name of a local psychologist that specialized in trauma counseling.  He did many molestations, rapes and murder psychoanalysis cases.  I would call this man as well in the morning.  My doctor friend did say to me:  This psychologist "guy" looks like something he is not.  I had no idea what that was about, but I would find out in the weeks to come. 

~~ I knew I had work in the morning.  Come hell or high water, I was going to make it into the office.  We had some employee pension issues that I needed to address.  Funny.  Looking back on my career I made such an effort to be a good employee/consultant/contractor.   Ignoring my own physical health and mental health to get the job done.  It didn't endear me to my employers, didn't get me promotions, nor did it directly get me raises.  It just cost me personally, and dearly!   My "career" advice is to make YOU the number one priority in your WHOLE life.  No one else is going to.  Managers remember the events of the last few weeks, not the amazing sacrifices and great work successes you had last month or last year.  Degrees of success in your job is different from employer to employer.  In most cases it is more about who you know, specific circumstances at a point in time, your personality, your looks, your race and your gender.  We all know this to be true.  Sorry, I digressed again ;-)  ~~

I will eventually come to realize why Justin had told me the story that he did about another person inadvertently causing the death of someone.  It was not about me at all (as it rarely is about us, and a sane version of myself would have known that...).  Justin is only human and was sorting through his own emotions after a very stressful week on this case.

It was Sunday July 15, 2018.  Scott had a late gig the night before so he slept past noon. His folks had asked him to go out to their house in the afternoon.  Scott's dad needed some assistance in his workshop.  I had my normal day doing chores.  I called Scott before he left for his folks house and we agreed to have dinner together.  I would cook something and he would come to my house around 4ish.   I don't remember what I cooked that day, but by 5:00 pm Scott had not arrived and I decided to eat my portion and put the rest of the food in the refrigerator.  

By 6:00 pm I was in "Sunday Night Mode."   Scott had still not arrived and I was a bit peeved so I started my normal tasks to get ready for a week of work. Sunday night is when I would get my head on straight, get the house picked up, ready my outfits for the week, workout in the gym, and look at work notes from the prior week so that I would be ready in the morning to hit the ground running.  I had a system that worked for me and it was part of a routine that kept me productive and focused.  I was generally not into too much frivolous behavior on Sunday evenings.  The serious version of Lauretta was on full display and I was known to be a little edgy on Sunday nights.

Scott on the other hand had had a Friday night show and a Saturday night show.   After the shows, depending where the shows were located, he would get home anywhere from 2:00 am to 4:00 am.  If the shows were a greater distance away, the band would get a hotel.  He would smoke a lot of weed, drink beer and might have a few drinks the nights of the gigs.  Really dedicated fans might provide a little "extra" social enhancing stimulants for Scott. Needless to say, he was pretty tired on the days after the band performed.  Scott also smoked cigarettes and took medication for a bipolar II condition and psoriasis meds.  He also liked high calorie and animal fat meals.  He was a high energy individual and burned off food very quickly.  On the other side of the indiscretions, the music, the food and meds was a pretty lethargic, grouchy middle aged man.

You combine "Scotty the Grouch" and "Sunday night uptight Lauretta" and fireworks were probable. The prior two Sundays had resulted in arguments/tiffs between us and Scott had gotten increasingly more aggressive and angry each week.  Other incidents in the prior couple of months like jealousy and general ill-tempered behavior had shown me that Scott was pretty unpredictable and had rage issues.

Scott had had a little disagreement with his dad that afternoon about something, so he was extra grumpy when he got to my house.  I was on the treadmill in the gym when he got to my house.  I told him his food was in the fridge and he was annoyed that I didn't wait to eat until he got there. I said "You are two hours late and I was hungry!"

Here we go....  LET'S GET READY TO RUMMMMMBBBBLLLLE!!

We started yelling at each other and I got mad rather quickly.  I aggressively pressed the slower button on the treadmill as we argued.  I damaged the button and to this day, everytime I get on that machine, I am reminded of July 15, 2018.

I remember Scott coming up into my personal space (nose to nose) as I ascended up the stairs onto the landing.  He told me to pull my head out of my ass.. then he backed off and I went into the kitchen.  I opened the refrigerator to get something to drink and we kept yelling at each other.  I was standing in the space between the big refrigerator door and the main fridge contents.   Scott was headed for the microwave oven on the other side of the fridge with a cold cup of coffee to warm up, which was blocked by me and the fridge door. I said something that he didn't like and he threw the contents of the coffee cup towards me. In the throwing action the coffee cup handle broke and the cup flew at my chest.  Scott then pushed me and I went back a few feet into the refrigerator door. Two of the shelves came down and contents fell to the floor.   I remember a container of sour cream splattering all over the floor and some condiments and other items like that fell to the hard wood floor.

Now.. I was a bit worried. Scott's words were loud and nasty. I maneuvered away from the fridge and around the kitchen island.  I don't remember the words I used on my retreat, but my instincts would have been to first try playing victim to see if his empathy would kick in.   I know that didn't work as he was still in full rage mode.  I remember the next words and actions very well. I lifted my head and shoulder trying to look big and tough and I took a big breath.  I told Scott to “GET THE F*CK OUT OF MY HOUSE  or I was going to call the police.”  He continued to cuss at me but he recoiled quickly.  

When Scott was upset he had very jerky body movements. He retrieved his barbell from the gym and raced down the steps into the garage and opened the garage and exited.  I went to the landing of the garage and made sure he had left so I could close the garage door.    He startled me by coming back into the garage and yelled. " F*CK you Lauretta. Call the police if you want!"  Then he left.

I closed the garage door and went back inside. I knew I had to clean up the mess in the kitchen and made that my focus as I was still a little shaken. I had the presence of mind to take pictures of myself, the fridge door and the floor.  I put the shelves back in the fridge door and decided to wipe everything down since I had to reorganize anyhow.   Then I got to cleaning and worked to put things back to normal.  

Then the doorbell rang.  "The saints go marching in"  chimed from the ringer.  I don't have a peep hole in my front door, so I ran up the stairs to the next level and looked down and back at the front door through a window in the hallway.  There stood two police officers.  Huh?!?

I answered the door.  The police officers said that Scott had called 911 and said there had been a domestic disturbance at this address. I let them in and we went to the kitchen.  I told them my version of the story, showed them my pictures and they could see that I was still in the process of cleaning up the mess.

I don't remember much about the interaction between the cops and I, but I remember them saying that in a domestic disturbance, one party or the other has to go to jail.  (Turns out that is not true police protocol at all)  They said they were going to head to Scott's house and probably arrest him.  I said that is fine, but I didn't plan on pressing charges and I thought it was unnecessary.  I told them I didn't need the hassle in my life. I did not know at this point that Scott had many arrests, previous domestic issues and general problems with the law. I am guessing that is why Scott called the police.  He thought he could get ahead of the situation, so that he didn't get arrested. He could never articulate to me why he called the police that day.  He just did.

Had they not arrested Scott that night, I think that would have been the end to the Scott and Lauretta story. I would not have tolerated that situation any longer and would have cut ties. But the ensuing fiasco that was created from the judicial system - kept us bonded and me wanting to fix a bad situation that I definitely contributed to... Unbeknownst to those two police officers, doing what they thought would make the situation better that evening, kept me in the situation that birthed this ongoing saga - that has now become a few books and a website.

The following day, I took a few hours off from work and went to the bond hearing.  That is a whole other Skipper post.  That was a crazy adventure too.  Stay tuned.

I wanted to continue telling this piece of the story so that I could move on from it.

From the last posting, you would have read that the judge placed a restraining order on Scott so that he could not contact me in any way.  We asked a few people if they would consider being our go-between for communications.  One of his female friends said yes, but I think she regretted it.  Eventually we disobeyed the provision to not directly communicate and I will tell you why. 

Scott’s friend Eddie told him that he knew a nice lawyer that was located close to the court house.  Scott went ahead and put down a 2,500 dollar retainer with this attorney.  There are so many lawyers in this world.  You hear about the ambulance chasers and the lack of moral character in many, as that is why they are attracted to politics.  Well, the lawyer Scott retained was a loser.  A drunk, a scammer, incompetent, and an asshole.  Once you get involved and see the underbelly of this world, you wonder exactly how broken is our judicial system is?  It is a money maker for defense lawyers and results in taxpayers supporting an onerous, costly, and slooooow moving judicial process.

I never went to the office of Scott’s lawyer, but I watched and attended all the court hearings in this case.  I could see that the lawyer wanted no resolution and requested more continuances so that the retainer would get used up and Scott would owe more money.  I saw him with other clients at the courthouse presenting these same shady tactics with immigration problems, domestic issues, and custody.  Many of these men didn’t speak English very well which allowed this scam artist to do the same if not worse to them .  This part of the system is broken and costly for anybody that gets caught up in legal battles.

Scott’s biggest issue with pleading guilty and moving on with his life was the fear of parole officers (I guess he’d had some pretty abusive and mean case managers) and surprise UA’s.  UA’s are urine analyses.  Scott had a medicinal marijuana  license.  Scott had such crippling anxiety that he relied on the herb to get him through a day.  I saw that play out constantly.  He could not survive without the marijuana, and knew he could not provide a clean urine analysis on any day of any year.  I told him to talk to his attorney about it and I even asked this worthless lawyer about it at a court hearing.  He said he would look into it (he should have known the answer off the top of his head).  I told Scott to ask Eddie Galvadon (another attorney) about this issue as they traveled together to most gigs spending hours in the car every week.  That never happened.  I finally spent 15 minutes doing my own research finding that since he had a medical prescription, the UA would not be considered dirty if they found THC.  That is one of the ways I got Scott to plead in this case.

We were also very concerned that Scott would go to jail, which served no one.  Somewhere along the way the district attorney’s office said that Scott would probably get jail time as this was his fourth domestic offense.  I worked with the D.A.’s assigned prosecutor to see if we could keep him from incarceration.  I also promised Scott that I would not allow him to get assigned an abusive probation officer.  I would find a way to get the courts to fix it (but I really had no idea how to accomplish this, but I would get it done if the problem arose.)  He ended up with a great probation officer, by the way.

It took ten months, 4 or 5 more court hearings, and so many hours to work through all the details -  to settle this case.  Along the way the court ordered relationship counseling for Scott and I to attend. More of my valuable time was being taken from me.  Scott and I spent way more time communicating because of the judicial system, the worthless lawyer, Scott’s inability to cope and deal with the situation, and our ignorance of the law.  This is where I thought attorneys were supposed to help.  HAHAHA.   Many people do not have the emotional or mental skills to effectively manage and communicate with their attorneys.  And when the lawyer is inept and corrupt, that compounds all the issues occurring in the litigation process.  

For whatever reason, my fear response is pretty subdued. I don’t get intimidated very easily and will run into battle pretty quickly.  I finally decided it was up to me and only me, to get this case settled so that everyone could move on with their lives.  No more money to this idiot lawyer and I wanted to get this damn case out of the courts so that taxpayer money was not getting wasted anymore.

At a court hearing in May 2019, I came prepared with a letter for the judge asking for him to help Scott resolve this case.  I had a wonderful victims advocate from the district attorney’s office that assisted that day.  I also had teamed up with the prosecuting attorney in the weeks and months prior to work out the details of the plea deal. I counseled Scott and assured him he had me on his side to make sure fairness played out, this proved to be very challenging over the 10 months.  Calming a bi-polar plagued, anxiety ridden, and testosterone filled man is a very hard task.

I explained in the letter to the judge that Scott was not getting adequate legal counsel from this lawyer.  I talked about the incident that started this whole ordeal and my take on the situation. That day in court a WONDERFUL judge helped Scott and we got this whole ordeal behind us.  Scott had to pay some court costs and pay for and attend domestic abuse classes.  Scott also did his part on this day.  He was very polite to the court and expressed regret and responsibility.  He allowed his lawyer to say some pretty shitty things and Scott kept calm.

And to my extreme pleasure on that day - Scott’s lawyer put his unprofessional and drunken conduct on full display..  He yelled at Scott and called him a f’ing loser and stormed out of the courtroom.  Minutes earlier he did get to read my letter for the judge and I think that may have tipped the scales to push him over the edge. I was going to write a complaint to the Colorado Bar Association about this fellow, but ultimately I had already spent hundreds of hours on this ordeal and just wanted to get on with my life.  I still regret not making a complaint, but man… what a time consuming hassle to write a formal complaint.  I guess that makes me part of the problem?

I have looked for the letter that I wrote to the judge.  On a cursory search I had no luck, but will include later if I find it.  

I am closing this chapter of my life for good.  :-)

I apologize for not posting in the Skipper’s log for 12 days. 

Sometimes life stressors get to be a bit much for me.  Do you ever get sick of your own life, your existence, your storyline? You look in the mirror you are annoyed with your own face.  Lol, that is the space I have been in for the last few weeks.  At times like these I tend to focus on what I can control like cleaning house, yard work, or home projects.   That is where I have been :-)

Trying to maintain physical homeostasis and regulate my emotional calmness for long periods has always been difficult for me.  I think I get overwhelmed, sick, tired, or just bored and it triggers my need for a change of some sort. My coping mechanisms are pretty harmless, but I want to do better.  I am a work in progress.

The main story at hand moves forward. It is now Wednesday Feb 19th 2020.  I cannot eat or sleep.  My brain can't focus on any subject for longer than a minute or two.  My heart and grey matter are in crisis.  In the midst of the culminating trauma, I forget that I have anxiety medication in the cabinet and I sadly.. raw dog the struggle.

Water consumption is inadequate as I keep forgetting to drink.  My 2 dogs and cat have to remind me to feed them. Work is becoming increasingly difficult to manage.

I went to my EAP counselor/therapist on Wednesday evening.  She was a "local" and knew of Scott prior to his death and knew his parents.  She had seen him play music and knew various truths and falsehoods about him.  I guess many folks around this time were discussing Scott and his ideocentricities and what they knew and suspected about Scott.  We spent most of the 1st session talking about those sorts of things. I can't say this 1st session did anything to calm me or help my emerging crisis, but I think I also put on my big girl panties before I got to the appointment and hid my mental predicament from her.

Much of my adult life I have communicated with computers, so my emotional intelligence might need some fine tuning.  I am logical and pragmatic.  However I create emotional distance from difficult situations. In other words,  I run away.

Later that evening, I remember saying "Mom, I really need your help...."  At that point my mother Lilly had been dead for 18 years but I cried for her on and off as the days passed.  I repeatedly ask both of my deceased parents to help me through this trial and tribulation.

I remember asking for my dead mothers help during my divorce in the early 2000's but had not resorted to that emotional crutch until February 19th 2020.  I have not reached out to her spirit since. 

I regularly hole up and try to fix my own problems. I run away from people, situations and my own struggles. I mostly compartmentalize and suck it up, alone.  The COVID shutdown reinforced that unhealthy behavior.   I am a work in progress.  

I struggled through Thursday's workaday. We had designed, changed, tested and I planned to  install software changes and database updates for the employee pension that I spoke of previously.  Thursday night is change management evening in our technology department.

I reached out to my 2nd oldest sister and we discussed how my brain was not doing well and I was worried about my software upgrades that evening.  She decided to come up from Denver and help me.   She is an old techie from way back.  IBM MVS SQL guru.  She was going to help me ensure that I didn't screw anything up for my employer.  For all the non tech nerds out there, SQL is “structured query language.”  Those databases that store all of our data have to be changed sometimes to reflect a company's changing directives.  SQL allows you to do that.  You do updates, deletes, inserts, etc.  You finalize those changes by doing a "Commit" command.

My sister watched carefully as I upgraded the software code.  I would type in a command  and before I hit enter, she would verify and ask me questions to ensure accuracy.  Then came the database updates.  Same procedure, she would verify the updates before I hit enter.  My brain was so mushy that I would forget what I had just directed it to do 30 seconds earlier.  After all the changes were made, I needed to finalize.  I told my sister that I was scared to "Commit".  She responded that that seemed like my normal mode of operation.  We both giggled and I remember thinking that was the first time I had laughed in a long while.

The install went as expected and I signed off my computer.

My sister and I got to talking about Scott and I reiterated that now knowing how Scott was killed was really wearing on my emotions.  She said something to the effect that she had read that he had been dismembered....

Without a lengthy and crazy play by play, blow by blow of my emotional break and meltdown, I will tell you it was crazy and pretty scary for my sister.  I cried, I screamed, I threw things.  I could not comprehend nor mentally process how someone could defile Scott like that. 

Eventually after some internet research, my sister came to the conclusion that she was mistaken with her information. 

I was already midway through my meltdown.   My sister reminded me that I had valium and I took a considerable dosage to manage the "situation."

During an emotional crisis, I am not sure anyone reacts well.  However, I was going to see a big time psychologist tomorrow (February 21st , 2020)  and do focused work on Lauretta.  And again... I was and am still a f'ing work in progress. 🙃

Peace out. ☮️

As I reflect back on the events related to Scott Session’s death and share my thoughts with you all, I realize that most of you don’t know much about me.  Sometimes the words I use are unusual, dark, and sometimes shocking.  I want to address some of that.

First, my occasional use of foul language :-)  You will hear me say f*uck and other choice  words.   But you will never read a racial slur that I have penned.  You will not be subjected to me judging someone on how they look, dress, or who they love.  I will NEVER say someone is illegal or invalidate a person’s belief system.  

As far as me being able to express to you the darkness, sadness, grief or mental struggles that I feel… Well, that is me.  A friend told me not too long ago that I am the most real person she knows.  I add color to her life.  LOL.

I am okay with myself.  I really like myself.  I get up everyday trying to do the right things for other people (no matter creed, color, or religion), pets, creatures, and the environment.  Somedays I land a bit short of my intentions, but I continue to strive  to be better. 

I am trying to promote an upcoming book, but I am also sharing emotions that I hope will help others realize they are okay too and sometimes you have to travel through fire.  We all do.  There is value in struggle and pride in survival.  

I see the user counts in instagram/facebook and in the website and its specific pages.  I am proud that there is so much interest, amusement, and perhaps darker fascinations with what I am producing.

I don’t need you to “follow” my @scotfreeandclear or personal instagram account, but I know you are there paying attention.  Shortly I will start making posts related to new Skipper Posts that I make, novel promotional videos (excerpts from the book, aesthetic reels, trope graphics, etc) and other content.  This is a very difficult hurdle for me as I am a hermit and introvert and would rather play in the yard.

The reason I did a website and not just social media is because of the Social Media Overlords and their algorithms.  I don’t want to be censored or displayed only when it falls into their algorithms.  The website will always be constant, available, reachable and not controlled by Zuck.

I hope this information clarifies some of my writings in the Skipper Posts.  Note, the books (unlike the log) are much more curated, edited and fictional.  There are many characters and situations and my hope is that they are all have their own unique voices with their own history, life stories, hopes and dreams.  These Skipper logs are my voice, pretty raw and unfiltered.

That’s it.  Have a lovely Friday!  

February 21st, 2020.

I had an appointment with a psychologist that immediately presented me with his vast experience with rapes, molestations, murder, suicide.  No specific details on each, but that he understood these types of issues very well.

After giving me his curriculum vitae, he asked me to detail why I was in his office.  I hesitantly explained the “Scott situation.”  At this point there were 2 deceased individuals and a man in custody.  I explained that I was in a mental crisis.

He bluntly asked me if I had anything to do with Scott’s murder.  He said he needed to know that before he could treat me.  “Of course not,” I replied.

His next question did nothing to help my emotional state, but only made it worse for a long time going forward.  He asked if I had called a lawyer.  “Why would I need a lawyer?” I responded.

“All law enforcement officials lie,” he said.  “They cannot be trusted.  You need to watch out for your own well being and legal standing.  You need to find an attorney as soon as you leave here today.”

Yikes, I thought.  Ugh.

The one thing that he did provide that really helped me over the next few weeks was this:  He made me write a list to put on my refrigerator.  It reminded me to breathe, drink water, eat food, and express one or two statements of gratitude - twice a day.

He also increased my dosage of valium….

I did try to find a lawyer.  That was a time consuming task.  I left a lot of messages and finally talked to a very nice lawyer from downtown Greeley.   I vaguely told her about my predicament.  She plainly stated “Oh, Scott.”  I said, “You know him?”  She said she did not know him.  

That is when it started happening for me.  Over the next few weeks, there were apparently no other Scotts in the world.  People would just refer to “Scott” and everyone knew they were talking about my Scott.  That is when I realized that the cold blooded murder of my Scott, has hit a mini-zeitgeist in our little world of Northern Colorado, and perhaps further.  I remember someone at work telling me that her ex-husband that lived in Tennessee had met Scott at a Music Festival in Winter Park Colorado.  One of my neighbors caught me in the driveway one day and made some weird comment about that poor woman that Scott was dating (Heather) getting shot with a 22 caliber gun (which had not been reported in the media yet).  That was my reality for a while.  People adding themselves to the story with rumors or past experiences with Scott and just blurting out these details, often in a cold and callous way.  Of course they didn’t understand the extent to which I was involuntarily involved.  Nor did they understand my fragile emotional state at the time.

Every community has their high profile stories.  Not to minimize any events or victims, here is my list of mini-zeitgeist moments.  If you lived in the Northern Colorado area during these times, you probably remember these names.  After going through the Scott experience, I have a small understanding of what it must have been like to have been involved in these cases as family, friends, or law enforcement.  Yvonne Rabb - Jonelle Mathews - Kelly Baker - Denise Davenport - Tina Tournai-Sandoval - Heather Garraus - Angie Vega.  Bless all these victims and their loved ones.  ❤️💙💔

Just last week (2026) a women I know said "There have been quite a few weird and crazy murders in Greeley, and you are part of one of those stories.. weird right?" 

Yes VERY WEIRD, I thought.

This post is about the “Murder Apartment” and its occupants.   This 4-plex apartment is the same building that I referred to in an earlier post.  I had walked by there soon after finding out about Scott’s murder and my subsequent interview by the police. There was a coroner van and police tape in front of the structure. 

I found out the following Tuesday that the suspects in Scott Sessions’s murder case had lived in that residence before Kevin Eastman (Quintanna) was arrested and before Heather was found dead.

I would not realize until the newspaper articles about the preliminary hearing on October 16th, 2020 that it was Scott that was murdered at this location.  I was instructed by the D.A.’s office to not watch or attend the court hearing.

As I mentioned prior, I walked past that building hundreds of times with my dogs.  I walked my dogs once or twice a day, everyday.  I walked in neighborhoods close to my house as my tiny dogs got older because their max walking distance was decreasing over time.

Over the years, with these dogs and with previous pets, I covered thousands of miles of neighborhoods. I am a yard person. I love to plant, harvest, prune, and decorate my outdoor spaces.  In the summer, no matter the temperature, I am outside having fun in the yard.  When I walk,  I look at a home’s curb appeal, their design of outdoor space, their trees, shrubs, flowers, ground covers, furniture, decorations.  All of it, I LOVE IT.

Apartment dwellers are often pretty limited on what they can do with their outdoor space, so generally not much to see in an area with many apartment buildings.  But this apartment was different.  The couple that lived there had planted flowers and small shrubs next to the house.  Directly out the front door they had put a couple of lawn chairs and a fire pit.  There was a piece of driftwood hung from the soffit with lights.  There was a beaded curtain over the french doors, which I believe led to a bedroom. There were little knick knacks scattered about.  It was quite lovely.   The bedding plants along the brick facing only got a little evening sun so I could never figure out how they bloomed so abundantly and looked so pretty.

There are two apartment entrances on that side of the building and at the time that Heather and Kevin lived there, I think there was one or two men living in that unit right next door.   Heather being the only female, the memory of her face stayed with me. The men, well I always say middle aged men all look the same to me….which is not exactly true.  The truth is I try to not directly look at men as to not draw attention to myself or give them any ideas.  A lot of men think if you look at them and smile or otherwise give them any attention at all (including online missteps) they are sure you are interested.  The men near that apartment all kind of looked similar to me.

On one of my dog walks, Heather and a man that I believe was Kevin were outside their unit.  The man was sitting in one of the chairs, and Heather was standing smoking a cigarette and looking at her flowers. I could smell patchouli and weed.  I must have been feeling friendly that day (most days I am not and try to not make contact with anybody on my walks).  I saw Heather’s face and she reminded me of a dear friend that I once had that decorated the same way, smoked cigarettes and marijuana, and loved incense.  I said to her “You are growing beautiful flowers and I love your patio.”  She looked at me like “leave me the hell alone.”  I get it, she was on her “back” patio enjoying life and someone interrupted.  Her face softened quickly and she said “thank you.”  I responded, “You have created a little paradise.”  She smiled and I moved along.  I think I saw her once or twice more over the time they lived there.  I would give a little wave and leave it at that.

Scott walked the dogs with me a few times and I pointed out to him the apartment and the care in which the patio was laid out.  I also told him stories about the long lost friend that the female dweller reminded me of.

Because she reminded me of a past and precious friendship, I think I gave the whole situation a bit more thought that I would have normally.  In October 2019 or so, on one of my walks, I noticed that the patio had been dismantled.  The only 2 items left were the fire pit and the driftwood, devoid of the pretty lights that it had been wrapped in.  The bedding flowers had already suffered the fall freeze and were gone also.   I remember speaking to Scott that evening and mentioning it to him.  I thought there had been a breakup and the woman had moved out, because the “pretty things” seemed to be missing.  I had built up a little happy story in my head about this couple and now it looked like the love story had ended.  

I still wonder if Scott remembered this apartment and my stories about it when he first met Heather and went to her place.  Funny thing is, I was walking the dogs in January 2020 and saw what I thought was Scott’s Ford Escape parked in front of the building. As I was walking by, I was on the phone with a crazy guy from my past and we were arguing about something.  I was so distracted at that moment on that day,  that I didn’t even remember seeing Scott’s vehicle there, until the murder came to light. 

I know that Scott met Heather at a gig sometime in November.  Not sure when they started communicating however.  Scott and I were still “friends” and we spent Christmas Eve with my family.  After dinner we went to see one of my sisters playing Bells at Trinity Episcopal’s yearly Christmas Program.  There were trumpets in the program (Scott loved that) and he sang every song that evening and loved the spirit of the church.   When we sat down in the pews that evening, Scott looked at me and said “I hope God does not strike me down with lightening tonight.”  Even for Scott that was a bit dramatic.  I didn’t know what it meant, but after everything that happened with his death, I wondered if he was already seeing Heather and was feeling guilty.  I will never know and it does NOT tarnish my memory of Scott at all.   

"To plant a garden is to dream of tomorrow." — Audrey Hepburn 

After my first appointment with the psychologist, his comment about not being able to trust law enforcement was starting to get into my head.  Of course, I was still not “right” and I was struggling.

I had also become a compulsive cyber stalker.  I had found Heather’s facebook page prior to Kevin and it was a pretty normal fb with her ex-husband and sons.  Towards the end of the postings on that account, there was a comment by Kevin, then soon after she created a new facebook account.  

I looked for family relatives of both of them, details on where they had worked in the past, anything that would give indication of a motive to kill Scott.  Did Scott know them, did he do drugs with them in his past, did he have a beef with one of them, etc, etc.

The following Monday or Tuesday (24th or 25th) I was heading home from work.  I was on “O” street for those familiar with the town -- and my best friend Debby was calling.  I answered.  She had just finished a massage at our salon and wanted to inform me that she had found out that Heather got her nails done at our salon and that she got an acrylic rebase on Tuesday February 11th.  3 days after Scott was killed, 2 days after his body was dumped and burned in the Colorado Rocky Mountains.  She thought this indicated that Heather could not have anything to do with Scott’s murder because she did something very “normal” right around the time of all of the horrific events.  I was now turning south on 35th Avenue.  When I said to Debby, “What the F are you talking about?  She was getting Scott’s skin and DNA cleaned out from underneath her fingernails!!!!”  Debby countered back with her argument.  I wasn’t having it.  I told her “ you are f’ing delusional”  I was soooo upset and angry.  I had to pull over at the Poudre Trail parking lot as driving was not a good idea at this point.  I made Debby really upset.   I immediately called my Massage Therapist and left a message.  I then called the Weld County Sheriff’s office to tell them what I had just heard.

Later that evening my Massage Therapist called me.  She explained the story. The nail tech knew Kevin from when she lived down in Delta Colorado and he paid for Heather to get her nails done at my salon.   I asked if the nail tech had called the police with this information and my massage therapist said no.  I was upset that she hadn’t called to report that to the police and I imagine I left my masseuse a little shaken as I was a bit unhinged.

Here’s where it got more complicated for more people.  Turns out the nail tech was contacted by the police because of my tip.  She was subpoenaed and put on the stand in the criminal trial.  UGH!!!  Also, she was threatened by the family of Kevin Eastmen.  Should I have gotten her involved?  Did it make a difference?  I kind of regret my actions on this.  Not only did she have to deal with threats and being in a trial, but I opened up my Massage Therapist’s identity to the courts.  The Defense Team’s investigator ended up calling and questioning her.  I felt so violated that the investigator called my masseuse.  It seemed inappropriate and a real violation of my privacy

I am STILL not sure how I feel about Heather.  I am sorry she lost her life.  I know she was a battered partner and probably scared for herself and her family after Scott’s murder, but getting her nails done?  Going to Victoria’s Secret on February 13th?  Going to work for 3 days that week (February 11-13th).   Her phone pinged up in the mountains along with Kevin’s (I guess Kevin could have just stolen her phone and taken it up there.) One of her sons testified in the trial and spoke at the sentencing.  What an outstanding young man and I will never forget his stories in court.

She can’t tell us what happened.  She lost her life.  I believe drug use was a big contributor to this nightmare that affected many people.  People’s selfishness and need to partake in recreational drugs and excessive alcohol is a scourge on our society.  There I said it!

Remember … Scott was the only one in this story  that didn’t have illegal drugs in his system.