From my perspective, the more moving parts a plan has coupled with the number of people involved is almost always going to wreck even the best laid plans. I believe in the truthfulness of the old Benjamin Franklin quote, “Three people can keep a secret if two of them are dead”. Rebekkah has been saying for a few months now that some things that were happening to us seemed suspicious and she felt like something untoward was going on. I didn’t think so at first. However, the events of the last few months, added with something that happened yesterday. are causing me to rethink things.
One of the things that really got affected when my ex and I split up was money, and because there just wasn’t enough of it, the tags on our car had expired, and we were finding it hard to move the truck from Texas tags to Oklahoma ones. We scrimped and saved up to get insurance and then we saved some more to get the tags. Rebekkah and I spoke the day before she was going to court to pay a traffic ticket off and then she was to go move the truck into her name. The important thing to note here is, we discussed this via phone and text messaging. Within a few hours, Rebekkah had been illegally stopped by the sheriff’s department officers for expired tags (which were clearly NOT expired on the truck), arrested, the truck thoroughly tossed looking for drugs then impounded, and she was left in jail for two days because she pissed off the judge by asking for a lawyer. Rebekkah said that multiple sheriff vehicles had been gathered in a convenience store parking lot, and she got the impression they had been waiting specifically for her.
I have dealt with law enforcement plenty of times due to being married to an outlaw motorcycle club member, and while this behavior by law enforcement is clearly not in the spirit of our constitution, it is really very common for cops to do whatever they please whenever they feel like it. So, no bells went off in my head.
But then, the same thing happened when DJ was driving my car not a month later. Because of the cost of getting our truck out of impound plus Rebekkah had to be sprung from the klink, we basically had to start over again accumulating the funds to make all of our vehicles legal. And we did. Plus, we were going to pay off Dj’s fines he owed for some legal trouble he had gotten into in Missouri as a teenager, thanks to Chef and a long overdue financial windfall he received.
Again, we spoke about this among the three of us, via text messaging and phone calls. After Dj got off of work Friday afternoon, he asked me if he could stop by and see his dad, and I said yes. According to Dj, a group of sheriff cars were in an empty parking lot near the turn to go to his dad’s house, and again, they sprung into action like they had been waiting for our car specifically. The tags, by this time, had expired about a week before, so the search and seizure was legal, but Dj was arrested for not paying his fines, extradited to Missouri, and again, my vehicle was scoured looking for drugs. Again, they found none. (Here’s a news flash: there are no drugs to find!!!!) Dj ended up being hospitalized for a blood infection and pneumonia that nearly killed him, on top of not receiving insulin on a regular basis which is required for a Type 1 diabetic to NOT DIE. Once he was released from the hospital after a 3 week stay, the jail couldn’t wait to spring him out of their care, and last Friday they released him to his biological father in Springfield until arrangements could be made to transfer his probation back here to Oklahoma where he lives. We were told it could be up to 45 days.
I was contacted about Dj’s Home Plan last Wednesday. Yesterday, on a Sunday and also a national holiday, Mother’s Day, I received a phone call at 4:07pm from a man identifying himself as an officer working on my son’s transfer from Missouri back to our state of Oklahoma, and he informed me that he was going to perform a home inspection that evening, hopefully before 9pm. I said okay, he hung up, and Rebekkah and I straightened up a little, washing the dishes and cleaned out the dog kennels. We had already spent the weekend scrubbing the house, so we were tired, and this last minute inspection threw a twist into our closing weekend routine.
About 8:15pm, my puppy Oliver peed on the living room floor I had cleaned so diligently that day, and being tired, nervous, and bit cranky, I put him in the kennel in my room, got my bucket of soapy bleach water and was on my hands and knees when I watched my door knob turn and the door crack open ever so slightly. Sparrow immediately started barking, and I got up and opened the door the rest of the way. Inside my screen door were two armed policemen, with flashy badges and guilty expressions. They were as startled as I was, but they regained their composure before I did, and got all formal and bully-ish quickly. I let them past me into the living room, as I called for Rebekkah. I said aloud that they startled me by not knocking first, and my freaked out daughter asked them point blank if they had just opened our door without knocking.
One officer said a plain, “No”; the other said nothing at all. The first officer, who lied about opening my door, ordered me into the kitchen, had me open the fridge doors, said something about the pizza box we had in the fridge, then asked to see where Dj would sleep. I showed him Dj’s room. They didn’t even pretend to glance around the room before asking me about an address DJ used to live at a few years ago, whether we had weapons or drugs in the house, and then they left without saying a word.
The whole thing creeped me out, and it literally terrified Rebekkah. She felt like even our home is not safe. The truth is, in this day and age, our homes aren’t safe. The part of all of this that makes me feel like I’m a target is that all of these stops and searches have been performed by the Tulsa County Sheriff’s department, not the local police. That is just way too much coincidence for me.
I write all of this for only one reason. Clearly, I’m a target for some reason, and my kids keep getting harassed because of it. I believe both times, I was the actual target, but I’m never one to make set plans, and even I haven’t a clue where I’ll be or why.
My guess would be that because I’m a known associate of the Bandidos, I’m the Tulsa County Sheriff’s departments target. My ex-husband and two ex-boyfriends were members of this club. I have a feeling law enforcement thinks I might be useful to their quest to rid their streets of this strain of rebellious bikers, and they want to squeeze me for information. It’s just a hunch, but I can’t think of any other reason they would want to harass me like this.
The problem for them is, I don’t know anything. I’ve been out of that life for years, and even when I was dating the club guys, we didn’t attend club functions, nor was I privy to any of the club gossip. Most of these guys are careful about what they tell any woman, but especially one like me, who felt betrayed and abandoned by the club at one time, and was vocal about it. (OMG! I’ve Lost 15 Facebook Friends). I’ve proven time and time again, I won’t be controlled by club bylaws, threats of physical or emotional abuse, or fear of rejection. I’m just a bad risk, and every one of those guys knows it. No one is telling me any secrets.
I hope I’m wrong and this was just all crazy coincidences. But in case it isn’t, I want to have documented this violation of my rights.