Page 2 of Billion Dollar Dispute

“I don’t know, honey,” I reply in a shaky voice.

There’s a loud sound of furniture breaking, followed by grunting and more yelling. I keep Chad’s face against me, shielding him from the sight. My breathing becomes shallow, each inhale a struggle against the crushing weight of panic.

I swallow my hysterical sobs, but silent tears flow down my cheeks. The officers quickly handcuff Butch, and there’s a heavy bang, likely from him being put on the ground. An officer reads him his rights.

Another officer speaks. “You’re under arrest for drug trafficking. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

Drug trafficking… No. No way. Butch? This must be a mistake.

An officer stands in our way, keeping us away from Butch, and I’m grateful for the help in blocking Chad's view of the scene.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice breaking.

“Ma’am, please remain calm,” the officer replies gently. “We’re here as part of an ongoing investigation. We just need to do our job, and I promise everything is being handled properly.”

I nod, my thoughts a mess of fear and confusion.

“We do need to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay,” he says. “Officer Kate MacDonald will keep Chad occupied for a bit.”

“Okay.” I lower Chad to his feet. Officer MacDonald kneels to Chad’s level. She offers a kind smile, holding out one of his toy cars.

“It’s okay, honey,” I say, stroking his hair. “I’ll be right here.”

Officer MacDonald glances at me. “We’ll stay right here in the living room where he can see you,” she assures me. She knows what she’s doing, and right now, I need someone to help keep Chad safe.

I look down at Chad, giving him a reassuring nod. Brow furrowed, he lets go and walks over to his toys with Officer MacDonald.

The other officer turns his attention back to me, but I keep my eyes on Chad. “Do you know anything about Butch’s whereabouts or what he was doing last night?”

“No, I was here with Chad the whole night. I don’t know anything about this.”

He nods, writing down some notes. Then, he asks a lot more questions.Were you aware that your husband was involved in selling or using drugs? Have you ever seen your husband use drugs or have drugs in the house? Have you ever helped your husband with any of his activities, knowingly or unwillingly? And so many more…

My answer to every single one is a resoundingno.

“If anything comes to mind later, anything at all, please get in touch with us.”

“Of course.”

“Jem. Chad—” Butch calls out, as Chad returns to me.

I cry again, but harder this time.What have you done? Why would you do that?I want to say, but the words are stuck in my throat.

He looks at me, but there’s no regret or pain, only defeat.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this…” he says as the police lead him out.

The officer turns to me. “Are you okay?”

I nod, unable to speak. My hands are trembling, my head spinning with too many thoughts at once.

The officer must notice my panic, because he asks, “Is there someone you can call to come stay with you tonight? Any family nearby?”

“Y—Yeah,” I manage to reply.

When the door closes with a heavy thud, the tears come silently. I hold Chad tightly in my arms, not letting go, even as the sound of the sirens fade into the distance.

How could I not have known?

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