 |
For ten years, I was the victim of an abusive relationship with a man named James Richard Casey, otherwise known as Ricky Ratt.
He slept around with at least seven other women that I know of. James Richard Casey loved his porn, tried to get me to have threesomes with other men, and tried to pimp me out to his sleazy friends.
This is my story — I’m Kelley Casey.
When of course I didn’t cooperate, he accused me of sleeping around on him. It was a constant fight. James Richard Casey was an alcoholic, drug addict, drug dealer, and thief. He treated our children like servants and frequently called our oldest daughter names like “little bitch.†She was the one who saw right through Ricky. I was co-dependent. I was an idiot. I am over that now.
In 2004, Ricky Casey got so violent with me that I kicked him down the stairs, and the kids and I finally escaped his twisted clutches. I was done. I left him on August 4, 2004. It was our anniversary.
Ricky Casey stalked me for all hours of the day and night. I filed for a VPO, and before I could go to court, I was told by a cop that I would be denied because Rickey Casey was an informant for the DA, and he told me that I better have proof. I didn’t get the VPO. It was no secret that James Richard Casey was an informant…thus his name, Ricky Ratt.
I felt defeated. I moved in with my aunt next door to the courthouse. The authorities sat there and watched him manhandle me right in front of the house one day shortly after I left him. Ricky Casey drove by a hundred times a day, but he wasn’t technically on the property. He was in the street, so there was nothing they could do. I felt like I couldn’t win.
When my kids and I moved in with my aunt, my cousin and my sister were living there too. Ricky Casey continued to harass me by calling and cussing me whenever he got a chance. He was obsessed. For six months, he would follow me everywhere I went, driving by many times while I was there. Riccky Casey followed my sister whenever he would lose track of me for a minute, because she lived with me. I have a recording of him cussing me on the phone from the many times he called to harass me. He broke a friend of the family’s tail light on his brand new Mustang, and he paid for the damage so our friend wouldn’t call the cops. He thought I was sleeping with this friend of the family. My aunt had to threaten him with the police and the incidences eventually dwindled.
I filed for divorce and got full custody of my kids. Thank God. James Richard Casey was to pay $300 in child support every month for our two children, and the kids had to continue seeing him by order of the court. He lied and said he didn’t have a job. I knew differently. I got proof of him working under the table and had my child support raised to $400 a month. My oldest couldn’t stand going to see him. He was cruel to her, and he treated the youngest like a princess. She didn’t know any better. She cleaned his house for him, cleaned out his truck or whatever he needed done around the house. He also took her to work and had her doing his job for a dollar or two to buy candy. He claimed he was teaching her good work ethic. She was 6 years old.
One time the kids came home from visiting him telling me all about their adventures at the local bar. It had a shuffleboard game in it. They got to sit at the bar and eat Cheetos. I was very upset over that one. Later, he was stopped for my kids not having their seatbelts on and arrested for having crack and a crack pipe in the car. I was two miles away, and Rickey Casey lied and said I was out of town so that I wouldn’t find out.
After a while of visiting Ricky, there was also a suspicion of child molestation with my older daughter. She said something to my cousin one day that gave her the impression Ricky had touched her in a bad way. I took my daughter to the police station where we talked to Damon Deveraux, the Chief of Police in Guthrie. There was supposedly an investigation. DHS spent 10 minutes interviewing Ricky and was convinced that he didn’t do it. The lady in turn questioned me on whether I was out to get him or not. I was livid. The case was closed after that, and my daughter still had to continue seeing this man she hated. She was 11 years old.
In 2005, I moved out of my aunt’s house and into my own home with my girls. Ricky started stalking me again, but was behaving otherwise. Then one night I was awakened by the sound of some drunken, shouting bastard on my porch trying to get in. It was Ricky. I called 911 for help telling them to hurry I needed help. She heard him kicking the door, and I had to clarify that was what she was hearing over the phone. I thought he would kill me that night if he made it through my door. He went to try to get in through the window, but luckily he fell off the porch and hit his head. I felt the vibration in my feet inside the house when he hit the concrete. I was hoping he had a concussion. By the time the cops showed up, he was nowhere to be found. I filed a report and nothing else ever came of it. He still showed up to pick up the kids a week later.
There was also a time when the 89er Celebration was in town, and Ricky Casey was there drunk when my sister and I went to the carnival to check out the food. We spotted him as we were leaving, or rather we heard him behind us as we were walking to the car. He was shouting vulgarities at me as we walked. I ignored him and just tried to get to the car. The closer we got to the car, the closer he got to us. When he appeared in my face all of a sudden, my sister was all over him. I had never heard such profanities come out of her mouth. (She is married to a cop now by the way.) She turned into a mad cat before two big men stepped in. Someone had already gone to find the cops, and Ricky took off walking. I thanked the men, and then my old friend from high school, Chief Damon Deveraux, showed up. He caught up with Ricky…and made him pour out his beer and promise to leave me alone.
Then there was the day I went to pick up my kids in Silver Valley where Ricky Casey had taken the kids to his friend Larry Pruitt’s house. When I arrived, I discovered Larry was loaded on some kind of drug and both of them were intoxicated. I was not happy, and I let him know about it. Not a good idea. The girls and I rushed to get in the car with my sister who was driving. I saw Ricky running after me, so I rolled the window up just in time to stop his fist from hitting me. I yelled at my sister to “GO!†and she didn’t hesitate. I’m not sure, but I think we ran over his toe….I hoped. And the kids had to go back to him two weeks later by court order. I didn’t even bother calling my friend Damon this time.
Later in 2005, I met a wonderful man named Will, whom I am still with today. We eventually moved in with him, and I thought life would be better for all of us after that. I was wrong. Will came home one day from work to find his door had been kicked in and money stolen. Will filed a report, but nothing came of it. This happened right before we moved in. I wonder who the perpetrator could have been. Hmm.
Shortly after we moved in, Ricky’s nephew Michael Youngblood (who is no better than Ricky Casey) showed up at my door wanting to know if I had any drugs I could sell him. He had just gotten out of prison. I figured Ricky sent him. I told him to get lost and I had nothing for him. Will and I do not do drugs, much less sell them. I am sure that Ricky told him otherwise though. He has always told other people that I am a drug addict, drug dealer, and a whore. I always hated hearing these rumors…another reason I’m glad I left him. He is delusional. I can’t count how many times he accused me of cheating on him. The night I left him he was sure there was a man hiding in the closet, but insisted he got away by the time he looked. The man is nuts. He is a sociopath. I am just waiting for a psychiatrist to prove it.
After being with Will for a while, he had taken me and the kids on some summer vacations. We got to see the mountains in Colorado and fell in love with them. We returned home and found ourselves missing the mountains. So, we decided we wanted to move there. Of course when Ricky found this out, he was not happy…but he didn’t say a word to me about it. Weird. I was expecting to get into it with him about it. I did give him 30 days’ notice required by law and told him he could have the kids for a month and a half in the summer.
Before the 30 days were up, our home was raided by the police. The search warrant shows that they were looking for guns, drugs, ledgers, scales, and paperwork pertaining to it all. What?! They were demanding to know where the guns and drugs were. When they found a joint in my pocket the cop said, “See this? This is what we are looking for!†Well, he found it…and a box that supposedly smells like pot. Wow…you would have thought I was a dangerous criminal from the way he was talking to us. My husband and I were planted on the couch with our hands handcuffed behind our backs. I was sobbing, and my kids were clinging to me even though I couldn’t hold them. My youngest asked me, “Why are they doing this mom?†All I could say was “I don’t know baby. We didn’t do anything wrong.†My kids were taken from me. Luckily, Will’s mother came to get them, but we still weren’t allowed to see them. She followed the rules, and I got my kids back three days later.
We were booked and printed at the police station. Then we were taken to the Sheriff’s station where we were booked and printed again. The only two females there were anxious to get home when we walked in. Apparently their shift was over. Only females can search a female, so I got stripped and cavity searched immediately when I walked in. Will didn’t have to go through that. We were bailed out within a few hours and there was obvious surprise on the cop’s face when we asked for our keys. We were free to go. They wasted their time and money. We aren’t drug dealers.
Now, I am sure you may be wondering how this could possibly happen to us? Allow me to elaborate. Ricky Casey, who hasn’t stepped foot in my house for the last five years, is a well-known informant in town, who is allowed to drink, do drugs, sell drugs, run a chop shop (which I forgot to tell you about in which case he turned state’s witness on his friend in order to get the charges dropped), beat women, molest children, and possibly get away with murder (Larry Pruitt whose death was not investigated)…picked up a phone and said, “I think Will and Kelley are big time drug dealers,†and the cops went running. According to the Affidavit of Probable Cause, Officer Tracey Lyons of Guthrie Oklahoma received a phone call from an informant. He searched our trash out on the curb, found some stems and seeds, and apparently that is enough to get a warrant. What is amazing is that we were so paranoid about just smoking a joint in the privacy of our own home that we were throwing our stems and seeds out in the yard. There weren’t any stems or seeds in the trash. There was no surveillance. There was no buy with any marked money, because there was no buy at all. WE DON’T SELL DRUGS and never have. Of course, the police are going to take the word of their informant who has been so trustworthy on so many other cases. Yeah, right. I wonder how many other people are in prison because of this lying bastard. How do I prove it, though?
Even though the jerk is bragging to all of his friends about calling the DA to drop our names and hounding my kids for information about the layout of our house…in order for anyone of any authority to even hear what I have to say to prove my innocence, I would have to get Ricky Casey on the stand in a court of law to expose him. Of course, the courts won’t allow that. After we spent over $7000 already and flew back and forth from Colorado 6 times, we were broke. During the last court date, we had a choice of spending thousands more and taking 12 more trips to fight it in front of a Bible belt jury who may or may not have sympathy for a pot smoker…or we could take a plea. We took a plea. We can’t afford to fight this. I think that is what they were counting on. When it was all over, we had to pay about $500 each in fines, all the court fees (which was $240 each court date), fees for various funds such as a victim’s fund, take a drug evaluation including a hair follicle test, and do 25 hours of community service. We paid all but $366 before we even left the courthouse. That is all they could stick us with since we live in Colorado, which happens to be a medical marijuana state. It is legal here, and I have my medical marijuana card. We are not breaking the law in Colorado. I wonder what kind of look I will get when I go get my drug evaluation for traces of marijuana where it is perfectly legal to smoke marijuana. They are going to be expecting some kind of meth or cocaine in my system. That is funny to me, but oh well. I’m just going to get it done and over with. We are putting this behind us and giving Guthrie the finger all the way home.
Needless to say, a month after we got home from the raid, we packed up our things and were out of there. The day before we were to pull away in the moving truck, a man walked up while we were loading the last few items on the truck, and handed me a summons. I thought, “Oh God, what now?!†You aren’t going to believe this. Ricky Casey was taking me to court to try to stop me from moving to Colorado with the kids. We still left. We took great care in stopping at the border to say good-bye…birdy style. We were done.
I flew back to appear in court. I told the judge about the month and a half for summer I offered Ricky and he turned to Ricky and said, “Well then what is the problem?†Ricky stormed out of the courtroom before the judge dismissed us from the podium. I won that one. Thank God for small miracles. I left the courtroom smiling for once. I didn’t get to make Ricky Casey eat crow on the stand. I didn’t have the money to fight it, but he didn’t get the kids either… I win this time.
For those of you who don’t know what an informant does…let me explain. Ricky Casey is a drug addict. He does his drugs, and he sells his drugs. When he gets caught, he has to give up a name to the authorities of someone else they can bust in order to get his sentence reduced or dropped (like the chop shop). Well, when he does this so many times, people start to figure out what he is, and obviously they don’t deal with him anymore…he’s a narc. So, the last time he got busted, he had no more names to give to the cops. He has been doing this for years in a very small town. It was inevitable. There’s no one left to rat on. He still has a certain amount of time to help the cops bust someone else. When his time was about to run out, and I was thoroughly ticking him off with my not cooperating with his wishes, he had to come up with a name. So, he gave them Will’s name. I guess he thought I wouldn’t make that connection if he sent them after my husband instead of me. Since he has done this so many times, the cops didn’t even bother to investigate. They took him for his word and here Will and I go off to jail, just barely making Ricky’s deadline. Wasn’t that convenient for Ricky? He is free to torment me and my kids, and we got run out of town. He knows how to work the system. That is how the system works. If you do the crime, you don’t have to do the time if you blame someone else…this time it was innocent people. Ricky Casey is using the system for his own vendettas, and he needs to do his time. It is long overdue.
Today, my family and I are happier than we have ever been. We live in a beautiful 1800 sf home in an immaculate neighborhood where the girls go to 5-star schools and are flourishing more than ever before. The girls have good friends, are popular, making good grades, active at the rec center and other school activities, and are not having to deal with any more drama. Will is going to school for his mechanical engineering degree, and I am going to school for my computer systems engineering degree. In about four years, we will both be making six-figure salaries.
I may have lost the battle in Guthrie Oklahoma, but instead, I am writing it all down and getting it out there so that maybe he can’t do this to anyone else. I am a computer engineer. I will get it out there on the world-wide web. This is my only defense against a man who almost destroyed me. I can only hope that someday…he will rot in hell.
James Richard Casey hasn’t paid child support in a year. He only paid a payment every so often when it suited him before that anyway. He doesn’t know where I live now, and he doesn’t have my number. I feel safe from him at the moment. To this day, he continues to be an informant for Guthrie, Oklahoma. He is very charming, and has them wrapped around his pinky finger. I can’t fight the whole town. Frankly, I am tired of wasting my time and energy on even the thought of Ricky…Ricky who?
Witten by Kelley Casey
William M. Windsor
I, William M. Windsor, am not an attorney. This website expresses my OPINIONS. The comments of visitors or guest authors to the website are their opinions and do not therefore reflect my opinions. Anyone mentioned by name in any article is welcome to file a response. This website does not provide legal advice. I do not give legal advice. I do not practice law. This website is to expose government corruption, law enforcement corruption, political corruption, and judicial corruption. Whatever this website says about the law is presented in the context of how I or others perceive the applicability of the law to a set of circumstances if I (or some other author) was in the circumstances under the conditions discussed. Despite my concerns about lawyers in general, I suggest that anyone with legal questions consult an attorney for an answer, particularly after reading anything on this website. The law is a gray area at best. Please read our Legal Notice and Terms.
{jcomments on}