An eight-year federal lawsuit alleges a statewide extortion scheme that jails the poor while generating profits for law enforcement

By EastOklahoma.com Investigative Team

Kendy Killman became a prisoner in her own home, though she'd never been convicted of a violent crime. The Cleveland County mother of eight stopped making unnecessary trips to the grocery store. She avoided her children's schools. She feared every knock at the door, every unfamiliar car on her street.

The reason: Aberdeen Enterprises II, a private debt collection company, had threatened to have her arrested over $1,200 in unpaid court fines and fees.

"Once a week they would call me and threaten me and say, 'You're going to jail' and 'They're coming to your house and arresting you,'" Killman recalled. "And I said, OK, there's nothing I can do about it. If you don't have resources, you don't have resources. So I just waited for them to show up."

They did. Officers arrested Killman on a failure-to-pay warrant during a routine traffic stop in June 2016. She spent time in jail not because she committed a new crime, but because she couldn't afford to pay old debts.

Killman's story is just one thread in what federal prosecutors and civil rights attorneys describe as a sprawling, statewide system that has generated millions of dollars for the Oklahoma Sheriffs' Association while routinely jailing some of the state's poorest citizens. That system is now the subject of a federal class action lawsuit that has been grinding through the courts for nearly eight years—a case that names every sheriff in Oklahoma as a defendant and alleges violations of federal racketeering laws typically reserved for organized crime.

The RICO Case Against Oklahoma's Sheriffs

On November 2, 2017, seven plaintiffs filed what would become one of the most sweeping civil rights cases in Oklahoma history. Graff v. Aberdeen Enterprises II, Inc. charges the Oklahoma Sheriffs' Association, Aberdeen Enterprises II, county sheriffs, judges, and court officials with operating an extortion scheme that violates the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act—RICO—alongside constitutional protections against unlawful detention and denial of due process.

RICO laws are typically deployed against drug cartels, organized crime syndicates, and the Mafia. Their use in this case signals the gravity of the allegations: that Oklahoma's law enforcement establishment created and profited from a system designed to extract money from people who have none, using the threat of jail as leverage.

The lawsuit is being handled by an unusual coalition of legal firepower. Tulsa-based firm Smolen, Smolen and Roytman, led by attorneys Daniel Smolen and Jill Webb, filed the original complaint. They've since been joined by the Civil Rights Corps and Georgetown University Law Center's Institute for Constitutional Advocacy and Protection—organizations that typically take on only the most constitutionally significant cases.

"In the United States—you can't put people in jail because they're too poor—and that's what's happening here," one of the attorneys told the Tulsa World shortly after filing.

As of February 2024, the case remains active in the U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Oklahoma, currently in the written argument stage following a 2023 Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals decision that reversed an earlier dismissal and sent the case back to district court for further proceedings.

How the System Works: A 30% Surcharge and a Web of Profit

To understand the allegations, you have to follow the money—and the statutory framework that made it possible.

In 2010, the Oklahoma Legislature passed a law authorizing county sheriffs to contract with private companies to collect unpaid court debt. The statute allows these private contractors to add a 30% collection fee on top of whatever the debtor already owes. That 30% is then split between the collection agency and the Oklahoma Sheriffs' Association.

For Aberdeen Enterprises II, a company that contracted with the Sheriffs' Association beginning in 2010, this arrangement proved extraordinarily lucrative. Tax forms filed with the Internal Revenue Service reveal that the Oklahoma Sheriffs' Association—a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization that provides training and lobbies on behalf of the state's 77 county sheriffs—received more than $2 million from Aberdeen between 2017 and 2021 alone.

In 2021, the Association received $415,000 from the arrangement, accounting for nearly 40% of the organization's total revenue that year. In 2016, the year before the lawsuit was filed, the Association made $825,000 from its contract with Aberdeen.

According to reporting by The Oklahoman, the Sheriffs' Association spent this money on a new building, travel expenses, advertising, and lobbyists—all while maintaining its status as a nonprofit charitable organization.

Here's how the system worked on the ground:

When someone in Oklahoma is convicted of a criminal or traffic offense, they're typically assessed court costs, fines, and fees. If they can't pay immediately, their case can be referred to Aberdeen for collection. At that point, Aberdeen adds the 30% surcharge. The company then contacts the debtor, often demanding lump-sum payments or setting payment plans with terms many defendants can't meet.

According to the lawsuit, if debtors can't pay what Aberdeen demands, the company requests that courts issue failure-to-pay warrants—arrest warrants based solely on inability to pay. Sheriffs then execute these warrants, jailing people who haven't committed any new crime.

The complaint alleges that Aberdeen representatives threatened debtors with arrest and incarceration, telling them repeatedly that they would go to jail if they didn't pay. Under federal law, debt collection agencies are prohibited from threatening arrest for non-payment. But Oklahoma law simultaneously authorizes district courts to issue failure-to-pay warrants if defendants haven't paid their fines and fees or contacted the courthouse—creating a legal gray area that the lawsuit argues has been exploited for profit.

Critically, the lawsuit claims that judges issued these warrants without any inquiry into whether the person could actually afford to pay, and without determining whether the non-payment was willful—both requirements under constitutional precedent established by the U.S. Supreme Court.

The Human Cost: Stories from the Plaintiffs

The named plaintiffs in the case represent thousands of Oklahomans who found themselves trapped in the system.

Ira Lee Wilkins, one of the original plaintiffs, pleaded guilty to a criminal charge in 2015 and was ordered to pay court costs. When he couldn't pay, a bench warrant was issued. He was arrested and sent to state prison—not for a new offense, but for being too poor to pay his court debts.

Carly Graff, the lead plaintiff whose name appears first on the case, faced imminent arrest in Tulsa County because she couldn't make payments on court debts. According to court filings, she and other plaintiffs lived in constant fear, unable to travel freely or go about normal activities because any encounter with law enforcement could result in arrest.

One plaintiff described in court documents is a mother receiving food stamps who stopped leaving her house except to take her children to the bus stop, terrified of being arrested over an unpaid traffic ticket.

Another plaintiff couldn't visit his son because of fears that traveling would result in arrest over unpaid child support-related court costs.

Sandy Meachum's story, reported by Tulsa television station KTUL, illustrates the debt spiral that many faced. Meachum pled guilty to a crime and was assessed a fine. When she couldn't pay, the lawsuit alleges her case was sent to Aberdeen, which increased the minimum payment amount. She lost her job and couldn't meet the higher payment. The courts issued a warrant. She was sent back to jail. A $200 fine grew to more than $800.

"And if you didn't come up with that, you going to jail," Meachum said in the interview.

Constitutional Questions: Criminalizing Poverty

At the heart of the lawsuit are fundamental questions about the Constitution and poverty in America.

The U.S. Supreme Court established decades ago, in cases like Bearden v. Georgia (1983), that courts cannot jail people simply because they're too poor to pay fines. Before incarcerating someone for non-payment, courts must first determine whether the person has the ability to pay and whether their failure to pay was willful.

The plaintiffs argue that Oklahoma's system, as operated by Aberdeen and the sheriffs, violated these protections systematically. Warrants were issued with no hearing, no determination of ability to pay, and no inquiry into whether the defendant was indigent. People were jailed solely based on non-payment.

This, the lawsuit argues, violates the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, which prohibits the government from treating people differently based solely on their wealth. It also violates due process protections—the constitutional requirement that the government follow fair procedures before depriving someone of liberty.

The Fourth Amendment claims center on unlawful seizure: arresting and jailing people without probable cause that they committed a crime, when their only "offense" was poverty.

Perhaps most dramatically, the lawsuit invokes RICO—arguing that Aberdeen, the Sheriffs' Association, and individual sheriffs operated what amounts to an organized criminal enterprise. The elements are there, plaintiffs argue: a pattern of racketeering activity (extortion through threats of arrest), conducted through an ongoing organization (the Association and its contractor), for financial gain.

Under RICO's civil provisions, victims can sue for triple damages plus attorney's fees—potentially a massive liability if the plaintiffs prevail and the class is certified to include the tens of thousands of Oklahomans who may have been affected.

The Tenth Circuit Weighs In

The case was initially dismissed by the district court, but that decision was reversed by the Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals in April 2023—a significant victory for the plaintiffs.

In its opinion, the appeals court found that the plaintiffs had adequately alleged constitutional violations and RICO claims against multiple categories of defendants. The court ruled that the case should proceed, sending it back to the district court for further litigation.

Following the reversal, defendants filed renewed motions to dismiss in August 2023. The plaintiffs filed opposition briefs to thirteen separate groups of defendants, including individual county sheriffs, the Rogers County Sheriff and officials, the Tulsa County Sheriff and officials, Aberdeen Enterprises II, and various judges and court administrators.

The litigation is now in what attorneys describe as the "written argument stage"—meaning the parties are filing legal briefs and the court is considering whether to allow the case to proceed to trial.

Notably, some sheriffs were dropped from the amended complaint. Attorney Daniel Smolen explained that based on their investigation, certain sheriffs were not using Aberdeen for collection during the relevant time period and were therefore removed as defendants.

A System Funded by Its Own Victims

One of the most troubling aspects of the alleged scheme is the financial conflict of interest it created throughout Oklahoma's justice system.

When Aberdeen added its 30% collection fee and split the proceeds with the Sheriffs' Association, it meant that the very law enforcement officials responsible for executing arrest warrants had a direct financial stake in the collection of court debt. The more money collected, the more funding the Association received—funding that supported the sheriffs' professional organization.

According to the complaint, this created a perverse incentive: sheriffs benefited financially from a system that jailed poor people who couldn't pay.

But the conflict extended beyond sheriffs. The lawsuit's amended complaint details how county judges, court clerks, and cost administrators also participated in and benefited from the system. District courts in many Oklahoma counties are substantially funded by fines and fees—meaning the courts themselves have a financial interest in collection. Research cited in news reports found that between 2007 and recent years, 66 to 90 percent of Oklahoma's district court funding came from fines and fees.

When Aberdeen requested that warrants be issued or recalled, courts frequently complied without holding hearings—effectively ceding judicial authority to a private, for-profit debt collector with its own financial motivations.

Public defenders, too, faced conflicts. In many counties, indigent defense is funded in part by the very court costs that defendants are ordered to pay—meaning the lawyers appointed to represent poor defendants have an institutional interest in their clients being assessed fees, even if those clients can't afford them.

Legislative Response: Reform Prompted by Litigation

While the lawsuit grinds through federal court, it has already had a tangible impact on Oklahoma law and policy.

The litigation is widely credited with prompting legislative reforms to how Oklahoma courts handle court debt and determine a defendant's ability to pay. Lawmakers, faced with the embarrassment of a federal RICO case against the entire sheriff establishment, began passing bills to address some of the system's most glaring problems.

In November 2023, legislation took effect requiring judges to notify defendants of their financial legal obligations and allowing them to present evidence of indigency—their inability to pay. The law also requires outside collection agencies like Aberdeen to notify individuals of their right to request a cost hearing if they cannot pay.

Another bill, House Bill 2041, authorized law enforcement to give verbal warnings to individuals with outstanding misdemeanor warrants, advising them to contact the county clerk to resolve the issue rather than immediately arresting them.

In a significant victory for reformers, lawmakers in 2023 passed House Bill 3205, which eliminates court fees levied on young people—recognizing that saddling juveniles with debt sets them up for failure.

Advocates at the Oklahoma Policy Institute, which has supported these reform efforts, note that court fees for a misdemeanor offense in Oklahoma average around $1,200—a crushing burden for low-income defendants. Research conducted in Oklahoma County found that defendants subject to court fees experienced high rates of new warrants, additional court debt, tax refund garnishment, and referrals to collection agencies. Meanwhile, defendants who were relieved of court fees showed no increase in new criminal charges, convictions, or jail bookings.

"The study determined that court debt has no deterrent effects," said David Gateley, a criminal justice policy analyst at Oklahoma Policy Institute. "It just creates further justice involvement and criminalization for indigent defendants."

Despite these reforms, the Oklahoma Sheriffs' Association continues to profit from its partnership with Aberdeen. As of 2023, the arrangement remained in place, continuing to generate revenue for the Association even as the federal lawsuit challenging its legality proceeds through court.

The Silence of the Defendants

Throughout the litigation, defendants have largely declined to comment publicly.

Aberdeen director Robert Shofner declined to comment when reached by reporters. Ray McNair, executive director of the Oklahoma Sheriffs' Association, did not respond to multiple telephone messages seeking comment from news organizations.

In federal court filings, however, both Aberdeen and the Sheriffs' Association have defended their conduct, attesting that it did not violate federal or state law.

John R. Woodard and Jennifer Struble, Tulsa-based attorneys representing Aberdeen Enterprises II, wrote in a July 2023 filing that the company cannot be expected to be neutral "because of how the debt collection industry works"—an argument that essentially concedes the profit motive while defending it as standard industry practice.

The sheriffs and other government defendants have argued, through various motions to dismiss, that they are protected by qualified immunity (for individual sheriffs) and that the plaintiffs have not adequately alleged constitutional violations. These arguments were rejected by the Tenth Circuit, but the defendants continue to press them in renewed motions following the remand.

A National Problem, An Oklahoma Case Study

Oklahoma's system is not unique, but it may be uniquely brazen in its scope and structure.

Across the United States, state and local governments have increasingly turned to fines and fees as a revenue source, particularly after the 2008 financial crisis strained public budgets. What began as a movement toward "fee-for-service" government—making those who use court systems pay for them—has evolved into what critics call a "poverty tax" that falls hardest on those least able to pay.

The U.S. Department of Justice, in investigations of Ferguson, Missouri, and other municipalities, has documented how modern-day debtor's prisons emerge when courts become revenue generators rather than dispensers of justice. People are jailed not for crimes but for debts, creating a two-tiered system where the wealthy pay fines and go home while the poor sit in jail.

What makes Oklahoma's case distinctive is the involvement of a statewide professional organization—the Sheriffs' Association—and the explicit statutory framework authorizing the 30% surcharge. Rather than individual counties creating their own problematic systems, Oklahoma created a uniform, state-sanctioned mechanism that channeled money to law enforcement through a private contractor.

The RICO allegations add another layer. While other jurisdictions have faced civil rights lawsuits over court debt, few if any have been accused of operating a racketeering enterprise under federal organized crime statutes.

What Happens Next

As of early 2026, the lawsuit continues to move through the federal court system. The question of class certification—whether the court will allow the case to proceed as a class action representing potentially tens of thousands of affected Oklahomans—remains undecided. If certified, the case could become one of the largest civil rights class actions in state history.

The plaintiffs are seeking injunctive relief to stop the alleged practices, declaratory relief establishing that the system is unconstitutional, compensatory damages for those harmed, punitive damages to punish the defendants, and attorney's fees.

Under RICO's civil provisions, they could potentially recover treble damages—three times the actual harm suffered. Given that the scheme allegedly generated millions of dollars over more than a decade, and affected thousands of people, the potential liability is substantial.

For Kendy Killman and plaintiffs like her, the lawsuit represents more than money. It's about dignity, constitutional rights, and the principle that in America, poverty should not be a crime.

Killman, who receives a monthly disability benefit while caring for her disabled son, told reporters that the threats from Aberdeen were devastating. "If you don't have resources, you don't have resources," she said. Yet the system treated inability to pay as a moral failing worthy of incarceration.

The lawsuit asks federal courts to declare that this is not justice—it's extortion, dressed in the uniform of the law.

The Broader Questions

Beyond the specific legal claims, the Oklahoma sheriffs case raises fundamental questions about the criminal justice system and economic inequality in America.

How did we arrive at a place where sheriffs' professional associations generate 40% of their revenue from jailing the poor? When did courts become profit centers rather than forums for justice? At what point does "tough on crime" become "tough on poverty"?

The lawsuit also highlights the dangerous allure of privatization. When government functions—here, the collection of court debt—are outsourced to private contractors operating on commission, the profit motive inevitably shapes outcomes. Aberdeen's business model depends on collecting money, and the 30% surcharge creates an incentive to be aggressive. When that aggressiveness is backed by the power to request arrest warrants executed by sheriffs who benefit from the same revenue stream, the result is a feedback loop that serves everyone except the people who owe the debts.

For advocates working on fines and fees reform nationally, Oklahoma represents both a cautionary tale and a test case. If the plaintiffs prevail, it could establish important precedent limiting how states can use court debt, privatize collection, and create financial conflicts of interest in the justice system.

If the defendants prevail, it may signal that such systems, however troubling, fall within the broad discretion states have to structure their courts and collection mechanisms.

Eight Years and Counting

As the lawsuit enters its eighth year, some things have changed and some have not.

Legislative reforms have created new procedural protections for indigent defendants. Some counties have moved away from using Aberdeen. Public awareness of the issue has grown, thanks in part to coverage by Oklahoma Watch, the Tulsa World, and national outlets.

But the fundamental structure remains in place. Aberdeen still contracts with the Sheriffs' Association. The 30% surcharge is still authorized by state law. And while reforms have made the system somewhat less harsh, they have not dismantled it.

The plaintiffs' attorneys continue to litigate, filing briefs and arguing motions. The defendants continue to defend, pressing their claims of immunity and arguing that the system, whatever its flaws, is legal.

And somewhere in Oklahoma, someone is likely receiving a call from a debt collector, being told they'll be arrested if they can't pay a court debt they can't afford—a debt that has grown by 30% to fund the very sheriffs who will execute the warrant.

Whether that continues to be legal is a question that may ultimately be decided not in the Oklahoma Legislature, but in a federal courthouse in Tulsa.

For now, the case continues. The class action remains uncertified. The fundamental questions remain unresolved. And the machine keeps running, generating revenue from the poorest Oklahomans while lawyers argue about whether that constitutes a RICO enterprise or just business as usual in the American justice system.

Editor's Note: Aberdeen Enterprises II and the Oklahoma Sheriffs' Association declined requests for comment. Representatives for several named defendant sheriffs either did not respond to interview requests or referred questions to their attorneys. This article is based on federal court filings, appellate opinions, IRS tax forms, legislative records, and previous reporting by the Tulsa World, Oklahoma Watch, and other news organizations. The allegations described remain allegations; the defendants deny wrongdoing and the case has not been tried.

Case Citation: Graff, et al v. Aberdeen Enterprises II, Inc. et al, Case No. 4:17-cv-00606-TCK-JFJ, U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Oklahoma