This part was not easy to write. In it, there are alot of raw emotions expressed. I tried to convey two people who've simply had enough and strike back, then deal with the consequences of their actions. Hope you enjoy.
*****
After the cop car had left, I called Ziggy. He was a cop. He'd know what to do.
"What do you mean they arrested Von for prostitution? She was at the party with us!" Ziggy seemed incredulous. "Meet me at Zone 3. I'm calling the commander. We'll get this straightened out. Don't worry. I know she's innocent."
The drive seemed to take forever. I was worried sick. This was supposed to be our night. Now, I had to worry about Shavonda's well-being. She was stunned by her arrest when she'd been doing nothing wrong.
Arriving at the police station, I parked the car and went inside. Ziggy had just arrived. He took me into the stationhouse, where the commander was waiting. Somehow, he'd beaten us here even though he was at home when Ziggy called.
He found us a vacant interview room and sat me down. Ziggy got me a bottle of water. The commander looked at me and said, "Tell me what happened." Ziggy leaned against the wall. I'd insisted that he be there too.
"We were followed down the alley by the cop car. I pulled into my parking spot, at my house. We were coming home from our engagement party, and before we were going to get out of the car I wanted to kiss my fiancé. That's when the cop walked up and accused Shavonda of prostitution. He said somebody saw her walking the alley and saw her get into my car. Shavonda was in my car the whole time. She hadn't gotten out except when we'd stopped at the gas station." I related the events of earlier that night.
I continued: "He cuffed her and took her, and threatened to arrest me."
"Did you get a badge number?" the commander asked.
"No, I was too upset to think of that. But he did issue me a traffic ticket." I pulled the citation out of my pocket and handed it to the commander. He looked at it.
"Shoemacher. I might have known," he shook his head in disgust. Turning to Ziggy, he said, "Can you see if he's brought her in yet?"
He turned to me. "We've had some reports of prostitutes in that alley lately. The description is always the same. Black female, approximately 140 lbs, straight hair. Is your fiancé over your house often?"
"Not lately. We've been spending most of our time over her house. We've been busy with my kids, this is the first night out we've had in a while."
Ziggy had returned. "She's not here yet," he said. "She should have been here by now." The commander left the room with Ziggy. This didn't look good.
"Officer Ziggarelli," the commander asked, "Can you confirm that this man is engaged to this woman?"
"Of course," Ziggy replied. "I was at their engagement party." He pulled out his cell phone and showed the commander the photo of me on my knee placing the ring on Shavonda's finger.
"I am so sorry," the commander said to me. "This never should have happened. We'll get to the bottom of it. Just be patient while I straighten this out."
"One thing," I said tentatively. "The officer claimed to be on a call from somebody who gave a complete description of Shavonda, right down to the clothing she had on. When we stopped at the gas station on Brownsville Road, my ex-wife was there using the pay phone. Can you check the 9-1-1 call and see where it came from? I suspect it came from that pay phone."
"I'll look into it," the commander promised.
What follows below is what I've been able to piece together from talking to various people.
After the cop had driven off with Shavonda, he didn't come back to the station right away, in direct violation of established protocol. Instead he'd taken her to a secluded spot on a dead-end street.
The fact that over an hour had elapsed and she hadn't arrived at the station sent up a red flag with the commander. Something was not right. When he left the room with Ziggy, he went to his office and pulled up the GPS on the patrol car. It showed the car stopped at the dead end of Parkwood Road. Parkwood was way out of the way to get from my house to Zone 3. The commander grabbed the radio mic from the startled night dispatcher. "Car 3307 where are you?"
Meanwhile, the officer had gotten in the backseat with Shavonda. "I'm going to give you a chance to walk away without arrest," he said creepily. "I'm not asking you to do anything you haven't done a hundred times before. But you won't be getting paid for it this time. A freebie for your freedom."
He unzipped his pants. "I'm not touching that thing," Shavonda spat defiantly.
"How are you going to stop me?" the officer replied. "Your hands are cuffed behind your back. I could put it in your mouth and you couldn't stop me."
"I'd bite it off, Swear to God I would," My queen answered defiantly.
"Then you'd be charged with prostitution AND assaulting a police officer," he threatened. Shavonda was shaking but she wasn't going to give in no matter how scared she was.
"You'd have to explain in court how I injured your tiny little dick while I had handcuffs on. How you got your itty-bitty pecker bit."
"Car 3307 what's your location?" crackled the radio.
"Shit," exclaimed the officer.
"We know where you are. I can see you on GPS. I understand you're transporting a prisoner."
Shavonda couldn't help but smile. He'd have to take her to the station now.
"I want an incident report when you get in, with a full explanation of the delay." The radio continued.
"Shit," the officer said, He'd have to book her now. No more freebie. He got out of the car and got in the driver's seat. Within minutes, they'd pulled in at the entrance to the police station and Shavonda was safely in a holding cell.
The commander was on Officer Shoemacher. "What were you doing on a dead-end street while transporting a prisoner?" the commander asked pointedly. "I want a report on my desk asap! This better be good."
Half an hour later, the officer submitted his report. The commander read it, getting angrier by the minute. "This report is total bullshit. Write me one that tells what REALLY happened."
Meanwhile, Shavonda was pulled from her cell and placed, still in cuffs in an interview room. The commander and Ziggy interviewed her. The commander was getting madder by the minute. He ordered an officer to the gas station to retrieve the surveillance tapes from the parking lot.
Shoemacher turned in his second incident report. The commander read it and lost his cool. "Why the hell was this woman cuffed? She shouldn't even be here in the holding cell! You have no evidence to charge her with any crime. I want her released! Now!"
In a few minutes, a visibly shaken and distraught Shavonda was led by a kindly woman officer to the room where I was waiting. In shock, she embraced me, sobbing. She held me tight and wouldn't let go.
"Are we free to go?" I asked the commander.
"Yes, take your fiancé home and get some sleep." It was after 3am. It had been a long night. We decided that it would be best not to tell her parents and particularly her father about what had happened. We didn't want him doing something rash that would get him into trouble.
Once home, all I could do was hold a traumatized Shavonda while she cried herself to sleep. I'd never felt so helpless.
That Sunday, we went to church. After the service, we talked to Reverend Frazier about performing our wedding ceremony at the church. May 18 was available, and he agreed to perform the service. Let the planning begin!