EX-DEPUTY TRIES TO CLEAR AIR

He says don't blame him for disappearance of marijuana

BEAR CREEK - When Jeff Scott reflects on his past two years as a Chatham
County sheriff's deputy, he feels angry, confused and humiliated.

But since resigning last month, he has come forward to clear the air about
his part in covering up the most embarrassing theft in department history,
that of 5,000 pounds of marijuana evidence lost on the sheriff's watch.

In September 2000, he noticed that 2 tons of the dope had been stolen. He
was forced to bury the rest, he said, then ordered to keep quiet.

"We went from being the good guys to overnight being the mafia," said Scott,
31. "A lot of innocent, good, hard-working deputies have suffered."

The stigma of the stolen marijuana crushed department morale, Scott said.
And the residents of Chatham County continue to ridicule their deputies, he
said, because the administration still hasn't explained what happened.

"I think the sheriff's a good man," Scott said of Ike Gray, who was
appointed sheriff in December 2000. "I just wish he would've taken care of
this situation a whole lot sooner. If that day at the landfill, if the truth
had come out, if [then-Sheriff Don Whitt] had said, 'Hey, we messed this
up,' then I think the public would be more forgiving."

Whitt, Gray and Chief Deputy Randy Keck, the lieutenant in charge of drug
enforcement when the theft occurred, have declined to talk about the stolen
marijuana, citing an FBI investigation.

Marijuana missing

On the morning of Sept. 28, 2000, Scott, Detective Charles Gardner and Keck,
all members of the department's narcotics unit, set out to destroy 5,000
pounds of marijuana seized the previous February at a sting near Siler City.

The 163 bales had never been logged as evidence or taken to the SBI for
testing, Scott said. For more than seven months, the drugs sat in a surplus
Army truck parked behind the department in Pittsboro.

Instead of going to the old county landfill together, Keck sent Scott and
Gardner to Sgt. Charles Perry's house in Bonlee, to give the deputy his car
and cigarettes, Scott said.

"We weren't for it," Scott said, "because it wasn't protocol."

An hour later, when Scott and Gardner arrived at the old county landfill,
Keck was gone. Jody Brafford, a county employee, told them Keck had opened
the back of the truck, discovered 2 tons of the marijuana was missing, and
headed back to headquarters, Scott said.

In a deposition for a related case, Keck said he left the landfill and did
not secure the the truck and its damaged side window because he was shocked.

"I was not thinking as I normally would think ... as a law enforcement
officer," he said.

Scott and Gardner found Keck and then-Chief Deputy Gray Behind the
department, standing behind the truck, Scott said.

"All that was said was the dope is missing, and we got to go back to the
landfill," Scott said. "It was an order. We didn't have no ifs, ands, or
buts or say-so about it."

Back at the landfill, Gardner insisted twice that the deputies put diesel
fuel on the remaining marijuana, said Scott, who strongly suggested they
write down the package weights and numbers. Keck told them not to worry
about it, to just throw the drugs in a shallow hole that Brafford, a backhoe
driver, had dug.

"Sgt. Gardner and I was trying to correct the situation," Scott said, "but
we got overruled."

In a deposition, Keck said he didn't recall any such suggestions.

In May, Brafford pleaded guilty to digging up 80 pounds of the marijuana and
drawing a map for five other men to do the same.

As Scott and Gardner buried the marijuana, Keck told them not to say
anything about the stolen drugs, because the FBI was investigating and they
could be indicted for obstructing the probe, Scott said. Back at the office,
then- Sheriff Don Whitt told Scott and Gardner they'd lose their jobs if
they didn't keep quiet.

"We never said anything about it," Scott said. "We weren't going to get in
the way of their investigation. We didn't want to be indicted by [the FBI],
and we didn't want to lose our jobs because of it."

In an affidavit for a related case, Whitt wrote that he decided to store the
marijuana in the Army truck, ordered Keck to bury it unburned and told his
deputies to keep quiet.

Grilled by FBI

In early February 2001, Keck gave Scott and Gardner a message that two FBI
agents wanted to talk to them, maybe to help them with the case, Scott said.
But during the interview, the deputies learned the FBI was investigating
them. Contrary to what Scott and Gardner had been told, no one had ever
investigated the marijuana theft.

"What I thought was going to be giving assistance turned into an internal
affairs deal," Scott said. "What myself and Detective Gardner thought was
right and true from September [2000] to February [2001], we found out in one
day that hey, it wasn't."

In an affidavit, Whitt wrote that he ordered Keck to call the FBI when he
found out the marijuana was stolen and was under the impression that federal
agents were investigating the theft.

FBI officials recently said Keck never asked for help, so they thought
Chatham deputies were investigating. The FBI didn't begin its probe until
almost four months after the theft.

After his meeting with the FBI agents, Scott was enraged. In one day, he
said, his reputation -- eight years of loyal service and dedication to the
department -- was destroyed.

"My mind was going a million miles a minute trying to figure out what's
going on here," Scott said. "I'd go home, work out. I'd try to do everything
I could to get my mind off it."

Scott immediately started looking for a new job, but the marijuana incident
made it practically impossible to find employment elsewhere. Other agencies
would ask if he had anything to do with the case, and he'd have to say yes.

And at the sheriff's department, a hostile environment made work unbearable,
Scott said.

"We were being cussed out every day" by low-level supervisors, he said.
"We're being told every couple of days that myself and Charles Gardner are
going to be indicted. This went on until the week I left."

Worst of all, Scott said, he never got an explanation why he was forced to
hide the marijuana theft, then bury the remaining drugs instead of burning
them. After the day at the landfill, Whitt, Gray and Keck never mentioned
the situation again, and they did not support him publicly.

"I feel like a little man being stepped on with no help," he said. "I'm
having to prove my innocence in the deal. I felt like we were thrown out in
the water to sink or swim."

A tense two years

Today, Scott has a new job with another law enforcement agency. He credits
his family, friends and church with helping him through his stress and
depression the past two years.

"I just want to get the story straight," he said. "I want the public to
understand there are a lot of good competent officers in the sheriff's
department who don't deserve what's been happening to them the last two
years."

By Angela Heywood Bible

Staff Writer

BEAR CREEK -- When Jeff Scott reflects on his past two years as a Chatham
County sheriff's deputy, he feels angry, confused and humiliated.

But since resigning last month, he has come forward to clear the air about
his part in covering up the most embarrassing theft in department history,
that of 5,000 pounds of marijuana evidence from under the sheriff's watch.

In September 2000, he noticed that 2 tons of the dope had been stolen. He
was forced to bury the rest undestroyed, he said, then ordered to keep
quiet.

"It's been hell for two years," said Scott, 31. "We went from being the good
guys to overnight being the mafia. A lot of innocent, good, hard-working
deputies have suffered."

The stigma of the stolen marijuana crushed department morale, Scott said.
And the residents of Chatham County continue to ridicule their deputies, he
said, because the administration still hasn't explained what happened.

"I think the sheriff's a good man," Scott said of Ike Gray, who was
appointed sheriff in December 2000. "I just wish he would've taken care of
this situation a whole lot sooner. If that day at the landfill, if the truth
had come out, if [then sheriff Don Whitt] had said, 'Hey, we messed this
up,' then I think the public would be more forgiving."

Whitt, Gray and Chief Deputy Randy Keck, who was the lieutenant in charge of
drug enforcement when the theft occurred, have declined to talk about the
stolen marijuana, citing an FBI investigation.

XXX

On the morning of September 28, 2000, Scott, Detective Charles Gardner and
Keck, all members of the department's narcotics unit, set out to destroy
5,000 pounds of marijuana that had been seized the previous February at a
sting near Siler City.

The 163 bales had never been logged as evidence nor taken to the SBI for
testing, Scott said. The drugs just sat in a surplus army truck parked
behind the department in Pittsboro for more than seven months.

Instead of going to the old county landfill together, Keck sent Scott and
Gardner to Sgt. Charles Perry's house in Bonlee, to give the deputy his car
and cigarettes, Scott said.

"We weren't for it," Scott said, "because it wasn't protocol."

When Scott and Gardner arrived at the old county landfill an hour later,
Keck was gone. Jody Brafford, a county employee, told them Keck had opened
the back of the truck, discovered two tons of the marijuana was missing, and
headed back to headquarters, Scott said.

Behind the department, Scott and Gardner found Keck and then-Chief Deputy
Gray standing behind the truck, Scott said.

"All that was said was the dope is missing, and we got to go back to the
landfill," Scott said. "It was an order. We didn't have no ifs, ands, or
buts or say-so about it."

In a deposition for a related case, Keck said he left the landfill and did
not secure the crime scene -- the truck and it's damaged side window --
because he was shocked.

"I was not thinking as I normally would think ... as a law enforcement
officer," he said.

Back at the landfill, Gardner insisted twice that the deputies put diesel
fuel on the remaining marijuana, said Scott, who strongly suggested they
write down the package weights and numbers. Keck told them not to worry
about it, to just throw the drugs in a shallow hole that Brafford, a backhoe
driver, had dug.

"Sgt. Gardner and I was trying to correct the situation," Scott said, "but
we got overruled."

In a deposition, Keck said he didn't recall any such suggestions.

In May, Brafford pleaded guilty to digging up 80 pounds of the marijuana and
drawing a map for five other men to do the same.

While burying the marijuana, Keck told Scott and Gardner not to say anything
about the stolen drugs, because the FBI was investigating, and they could be
indicted for obstructing the probe, Scott said. Back at the office, then-
Sheriff Don Whitt told Scott and Gardner they'd lose their jobs if they
didn't keep quiet.

"We never said anything about it," Scott said. "We weren't going to get in
the way of their investigation. We didn't want to be indicted by [the FBI],
and we didn't want to lose our jobs because of it."

In an affidavit for a related case, Whitt wrote that he decided to store the
marijuana in the army truck, ordered Keck to bury it unburned and told his
deputies to keep quiet.

In early February 2001, Keck gave Scott and Gardner a message that two FBI
agents wanted to talk to them, maybe to help them with the case, Scott said.
But during the interview, the deputies learned they were the subject of a
new FBI probe. Contrary to what Scott and Gardner had been told, no one had
ever investigated the marijuana theft.

"What I thought was going to be giving assistance turned into an internal
affairs deal," Scott said. "What myself and Detective Gardner thought was
right and true from September [2000] to February [2001], we found out in one
day that hey, it wasn't."

In an affidavit, Whitt wrote that he ordered Keck to call the FBI when he
found out the marijuana was stolen and was under the impression that federal
agents were investigating the theft.

FBI officials recently said Keck never asked for help, so they thought
Chatham deputies were investigating. The FBI didn't begin its probe until
almost four months after the theft.

After his meeting with the FBI agents, Scott was enraged. In one day, his
reputation -- eight years of loyal service and dedication to the department
- -- was destroyed, he said.

"My mind was going a million miles a minute trying to figure out what's
going on here," Scott said. "I'd go home, work out. I'd try to do everything
I could to get my mind off it."

Scott immediately started looking for a new job, but the marijuana incident
made it practically impossible to find employment elsewhere. Other agencies
would ask if he had anything to do with the case, and he'd have to say yes.

And at the sheriff's department, a hostile environment made work unbearable,
Scott said.

"We were being cussed out every day [by low-level supervisors]," he said.
"We're being told every couple of days that myself and Charles Gardner are
going to be indicted. This went on until the week I left."

But worst of all, just like the public, Scott never got an explanation for
why he was forced to hide the marijuana theft, then bury the remaining drugs
undestroyed. After the day at the landfill, Whitt, Gray and Keck never
mentioned the situation again, nor did they support him publicly.

"I feel like a little man being stepped on with no help," he said. "I'm
having to prove my innocence in the deal. I felt like we were thrown out in
the water to sink or swim."

Today, Scott has a new job with another law enforcement agency. He credits
his family, friends and church with helping him through his stress and
depression the past two years.

"I just want to get the story straight," he said. "I want the public to
understand there are a lot of good competent officers in the sheriff's
department who don't deserve what's been happening to them the last two
years."