Lies of a Real Housewife (14 page)

questions.

“Who are you?” This big, heavyset, white guy with wide nostrils

shouted. “How
did you get involved with these people?” he asked with no regards for sympathy. “Do you know how much trouble you are in?” “How

many children do you have?” “Where are you from?”

Agitated, I stared past the detectives, refusing to answer any of their

que
stions. If they had me, then they were going to have to show me they had me. Even though I had been caught red-handed, with my hand all the way down in the cookie jar, I refused to help them indict me.

The questioning went on and on. Their frustration wit
h me was

getting obvious. I knew not to say one single word. I just sat there and kept staring at the wall. They told me that I was only hurting myself. Then they walked out of the room. Three days later, I was transferred from the hospital

to Hamilton
County Jail in downtown Chattanooga, Tennessee.

My incarceration didn’t come with any kind of surprises. I had

already suffered over thirty arrests and or run-ins with the law. So I knew the

drill, and I knew how things worked.

I just wanted to get booked, so I could bail out. I did the only thing I could do to help myself which was call my mother. My mother was already ten steps ahead of me. She already knew how much my bond was and was prepared to pay it. She had already talked with Phaedra who informed us to just be cool and not speak to anyone. But there was a problem. Although I did in fact have a bond, I also had a hold in Clayton County, Georgia for the

fraudulent car titles.

If my mother paid my bond, I would be released but they would

release
me to the Clayton County, Georgia authorities. My charges in Hamilton County, Tennessee were all associated with the false identity. These charges were serious, just not as serious as the charges I faced back home in Georgia. Another problem my mother would probably encounter in trying to pay my bond was the fact they could argue that I was going to be a flight risk since I lived in another state. I was in a world of trouble and I knew it. I told my mother to hold onto her money because I knew she was going to need it.

I decided to sit, and wait for Clayton County.

Knowing that I was going to be there for a while, I worked toward

making myself as comfortable as possible. I was getting acclimated to my surroundings when a few days later, my name was called
over the loud speaker. I thought it may have been my mother coming to see me. It wasn’t. The Georgia Bureau of Investigations (GBI) paid me a visit. They handcuffed me, placed me in the back of their vehicle, and transported me to another

location.

I was riding in the back of their vehicle, and couldn’t figure out for

the life of me why they had me. What did they want from me? I had never had any dealings with the GBI and the FBI. My stomach was doing flips, and my mind was racing as I kept wonderin
g what this latest development was about.

Lord, Lord, what have I gotten myself into now?

Chapter Six

A Bottomless Pit with No Way Out

“No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.

But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” 1  Corinthians 10:13 (NI
V )

I was placed in a small room with a long table at the end. My

handcuffs were removed then I was offered coffee and cigarettes. Coffee…? Yes, but cigarettes were definitely not my thing. I hated the way they tasted,

the way they smelled, and the way t
hey made you feel.

Special investigators had never questioned me before so this was

very scary for me. I remember watching how these interrogations went on television cops and robbers movies. Mentally preparing myself for the whole good cop, bad cop scenario, I would be ready.

Through it all, I believed I remained as strong as I could. What was

done was done. It made no sense crying over spilled milk. So let us do what we have to do, and move on from this. These thoughts were flowing through
my mind while I waited. I had resolved to push through this barrier. It was working just fine until the bad cop opened his mouth.

“Ms. Stanton, let’s cut straight through the BS! Tell us all about Leonard!”

“Leonard? Who the hell is Leonard?” I asked, staring wide eyed at

him.

The detective was short and stocky. He looked just like one of the

kids I had p
icked on in school. Except he was grown up, and was about to pay me back for every name that I had ever called him. His receding hairline, and overgrown beer belly made me look at him with a more serious attitude. He was the type of person that needed just a little bit of authority. And I didn’t think he had been around too many black people in his life. In my mind I placed myself back at the chessboard with my dad, remembering every move

he had ever taught me, before I started speaking again.

“I don’t know anybody named Leonard!” I yelled.

The detective looked at me in disgust as if I had just murdered his

only child right before his eyes. Without hesitation, he slung a manila file folder as thick as the yellow pages with Shaheed’s picture on the front of it. I watched it as it slid from his end of the table all the way across the table, and down toward my end of the table. It abruptly stopped in front of me.

Befuddled, I didn’t know what to think. Maybe they had been

watching us, and had pictures and paperwork from monitoring our every move. I didn’t know what the hell was going on until I looked at the picture on the front of the folder. My mind was whirling in the wind of possibilities when glanced at the detective. With resentment in his eyes, he stared at me and calmly said, “Ms. Stanton, if you want to ever see that baby you’re carrying, you will tell us everything that we want to know. We don’t take

threats taken out on federal agents lightly.”

I was shaken and really couldn’t figure out what was going on. Still

in shock from learning that Everett and Phaedra had sent me back to the same car lot they had just burned, I felt like this was all part of a set up. They had been driven by greed. This situation with Shaheed had me scared and confused. I
was still trying to figure out how the detectives knew about Shaheed. The detectives seemed to know more about me, and my life than I did. I was scared to death, and felt very ignorant. Everybody seemingly knew

what was going on, except me. I realized tha
t I was in way over my head.

My mind kept drawing blanks. I was at a total loss for words.

Reality had me so shook that for a minute everything seemed blurred. Finally, I slowly came back around, but was still stuck trying to comprehend what exactly the detective was saying. It did sound like he had just said Shaheed

threatened a federal agent.

O-o-okay! If he did, what did that have to do with me? I was being

held for auto theft, and giving false information. Even more surprisingly, how did they link
me to Shaheed? Someone was talking, and it wasn’t me.

Shaheed had nothing to do with why I was in Tennessee. Who was talking

to these detectives or had they been just watching us? This sh** was crazy!

“I thought his name was Shaheed,” I said, trying to keep my tone

even.

I didn’t want them to see that I was totally flustered. The agents

glanced at each other. Then they looked back at me. Attempting to read me, and all the while trying to figure out whether or not I was being truthful. The reality was that I was telling the truth. I couldn’t believe it. I was pregnant, in

love, and in a relationship with someone I didn’t know at all.

“Ms. Stanton, do you have any idea what’s going on here, or who

you’re involved with?” the detective finally asked.  I sighed in resignation,

burst into tears, and said. “No, obviously I don’t!”

Minutes slowly turned into hours, and my whole life changed in

seconds. I felt as if I was inside of the movie ‘The Matrix.’ It was obvious that I had taken the wrong pill. I was anxiously waiting for someone to wake me up on the other side. This dream was the worst
nightmare I’d ever had. I had no choice but to listen as they shared horrific details of alleged murder cases they had against the man I loved. The man I didn’t really know at all. They explained how all the witnesses in the cases against him disappeared or ended up dead. And they pointed out to me that every time they pinned him

for murder, he somehow manage to beat the case.

I had heard the stories about Shaheed on the streets, true enough. Hearing it on the streets and hearing it from a federal agent were two totally different things. Sh** got real, quick-fast, and in a hurry after that. It didn’t get any realer than this.

I was aware of his notoriety, but I knew nothing about Shaheed’s

actual business. I really got offended that these detectives were questioning me about him. If Shaheed had committed all the murders they claimed, and witnesses were disappearing, then what in the hell made them think that I was