by Diane Rapp
“She drove inside some kind of dog kennel,” the man said. “You want me to wait for her? Okay, I’ll go check out the other target and wait for the open house ads. Yeah, they make it real easy for us, don’t they? They’re regular sitting ducks.” He chuckled as he drove away.
Tamara always felt impressed by the beautiful Queen Anne-style mansion rising four stories above a formal garden filled with flowering plants. Carra had inherited this property a few years ago. Carra’s husband Mike refurbished the home and converted the dog kennel area into a successful dog-training facility. Zorro and Zulu, Carra’s champion German Shepherds, approached the car as Bentley’s barks grew shrill and happy. Carra held up her hand and the two German Shepherds sat like matching bookends, patiently waiting for the familiar visitor to exit the vehicle.
“Okay, Bentley. I’ll let you out to play,” Tamara said, opening the driver’s door and unlatching the back “suicide” door. Bentley sat very still until Tamara said, “Okay.” When he sprang out of the car, all three dogs performed a doggie dance of greeting, licking, and sniffing.
Carra laughed. “When Bentley first met them, he cowered and rolled onto his back submissively. Now they all behave like littermates.” She hugged Tamara and added, “Better get Bentley onto the agility course to expel some of his excess energy. My other students left about fifteen minutes ago, so you can go straight to work.”
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Tamara said.
“Don’t worry about it. Bentley looks eager to have some fun, and he’s my most talented student.” Carra swung open the gate to the practice arena, currently filled with a variety of agility equipment. “Take a few minutes to walk through the course, while Bentley stays here with me.”
Tamara clipped a leash onto Bentley’s harness and told him to sit and stay. She handed the leash to Carra and walked through the course layout. A handler needed to examine the order in which the apparatus were numbered, building a mental map to guide her dog properly. When she returned to Bentley, he was ready to run, his body quivering with anticipation.
Unclipping the leash, she gave him a “stay” hand signal, and walked a few feet into the middle of the course. Carra waited for Tamara to release her dog before she clicked the stopwatch.
Tamara pointed and said, “Jump, Bentley.” He literally sailed over the solid wooden slats without effort. Tamara moved a few feet and pointed to the A-frame climbing wall and shouted, “Climb, Bentley, climb.”
His nails scraped against the wooden boards as he scrambled up the tall obstacle, crested the top, and flowed down the other side. Tamara watched to make sure his feet touched the painted section at the bottom before hitting the ground running.
Bentley glanced at Tamara for directions. She pointed and said, “Teeter-totter.” He approached the grounded half of the teeter-totter, walked to the middle section, and waited until the opposite side lowered to the ground. He finished by trotting to the end and jumped off.
With a long, pink tongue dangling, he flashed a “doggie grin” as Tamara directed him to a long line of vertical white poles standing upright like a fence. She pointed at the correct side to enter and commanded, “Weave, Bentley, weave.”
This was his favorite task. Bentley gave a little yip and threaded his body through plastic poles positioned about a foot apart. Tamara thought he looked like a skier maneuvering swiftly through a slalom course. His nimble body curved as he threw his front feet through each opening then kicked his heels to switch direction to the next opening.
As he exited the weave poles, Tamara shouted, “Walker, Bentley, walker!” She directed him toward a narrow ramp rising up to a long, level board and down the opposite side. Bentley sprinted across like a tight-rope walker, placing one foot in front of the other. He never missed a step and successfully reached the ground.
“Tunnel, Bentley, tunnel,” Tamara said. He dove into a dark tunnel wrapping into a U-shape. A moment later he burst through the limp fabric covering the exit. “Jump!” Tamara said as she pointed toward a bar jump. Bentley’s ears flew out as his nimble legs cleared the jump easily. “Tire, Bentley, tire.” He dove through the suspended hoop before he raced across the finish line.
Tamara clapped as Bentley barked and jumped with excitement. He floated into the air with each leap until he could literally gaze into her eyes. “You’re such a good boy, Bentley!” She handed him a dog biscuit as they walked back to Carra.
“How’d we do?” Tamara asked breathlessly.
Carra announced, “That’s his best time this year. But if we want to enter him into competition, we need to make the course more difficult for this guy. I’d love to see him make it all the way to national trials.” She turned and scrutinized Tamara’s face. “You look really stressed out. Come inside and have a soothing cup of tea while you get your breath back.”
“Sure, I could use something to calm my nerves, and I’ve got something important to discuss with you.” The dogs all trotted toward the house in a congenial group.
Sitting at the octagonal breakfast table in the kitchen, Tamara accepted a steaming cup of chamomile tea and plate of peanut butter cookies. Carra joined her while the dogs ate their own biscuits on a rug in the foyer.
“So what’s causing you such anxiety?” Carra asked.
Tamara marveled at how Carra always seemed to know how she was feeling. In between sips of hot tea, Tamara explained the news about the serial kidnapper and the imbalance of female versus male agents in her office.
Carra dipped a cookie into her tea and took a bite. “You realize our kennel has highly-trained guard dogs who could use real-life experience. Let me assign each female agent one of our dogs for temporary protection duty, free of charge. What do you think?”
“Really?” Tamara glanced at the placid-seeming dogs who nuzzled Bentley with affection. “I’m not sure our agents would know how to handle guard dogs.”
Carra laughed. “No problem. The dogs know what they’re doing. We’d schedule a class to get the humans up to speed before this weekend. You won’t need a dog, since you’ve got Bentley to guard you.”
“What? Bentley’s just a Standard Poodle, not a fierce guard dog. How could he protect me?” Tamara asked.
Casting a wry smile at her, Carra explained, “Poodles are athletic and clever. He might be smaller than my shepherds, but he’s got a mouth full of very sharp teeth. I know he’s eager to prove his worth to you and he’s quick. Give me a few minutes to set the stage, and Bentley can demonstrate his innate abilities.”
“Okay. I’m game. What do you want me to do?” Tamara asked.
“Bring Bentley out to the practice yard in about ten minutes.” Carra stood up, gave a hand signal to her dogs, and headed toward the door. The shepherds followed her outside.
Tamara’s heart pounded as she gulped the remainder of her tea. “Are you ready for this, Bentley?” He cocked his head as if he were trying to understand her strange words.
A few minutes later Tamara and Bentley entered the practice yard. Catching a new scent, Bentley held his nose high. Tamara noticed his flews vibrate as he sniffed the air intently. He hugged her side, walking off-leash, as he suddenly lowered his head, growled, and stared intently ahead. Carra and the shepherds were not in the yard.
What was happening?
Suddenly a scary man darted out from behind the A-frame wall. His body and face were covered in protective gear, so Tamara couldn’t identify him. The man waved his arms, shouted, and growled like a bear.
Uttering a small squeal of fright, Tamara stepped backwards. Bentley stood his ground. Growling, he kept his head even with his shoulders and began creeping forward. The muscles in his hindquarters bunched as he moved toward the attacker, and a low rumble warned the quarry to back off.
Suddenly Bentley dashed at the enemy, issuing a series of staccato barks growing louder with each step. The man moved menacingly toward Tamara, but Bentley blocked his path, zigzagging right and left. As the man came closer, the nim
ble dog jumped, hitting the man’s chest with his front feet, still barking and snarling.
Tamara took a tentative step forward, noticing how the courageous dog protected her from attack. Bentley landed on the ground but immediately lunged at the man’s padded arm. He grabbed hold and shook his head, growling. Bentley floated above the ground, attached to the arm. He kicked the man’s torso with his powerful hind legs as the man tried to dislodge the angry animal.
“Good boy, Bentley!” Carra shouted. “Tamara, give him the command to stand down.”
Shocked, Tamara ordered Bentley to stand down but her voice cracked. Bentley immediately broke off the attack, dropped lightly to the ground, and trotted back to Tamara. He leaned against her side, panting, but maintained eye contact with the attacker. A low rumble vibrated through his lean body as she stroked him.
“Remove your mask, Henry,” Carra said as she walked forward and helped Henry take off the protection gear. She explained, “Bentley’s reaction was purely instinctive, coming from his desire to protect you. With a bit of training, he could be an official guard dog. Right, Henry?”
Henry chuckled. “He might weigh less than the shepherds, but he jumps higher and his teeth are very sharp, Ma’am.” He pointed at the rip in the arm protection. “I’d say he’s already a good guard dog.” Henry sauntered away from the practice yard and entered the kennel door carrying the gear.
“Whew!” Tamara said as she bent down to stroke her brave protector. “I had no idea Bentley could act so fierce.”
“The important thing is to teach him when to stop.” Carra released the shepherds and all three friends began a fun game of chase. She added, “Explain my offer to your office. If they agree, we’ll demonstrate how the guard dogs work. Bring everyone from your office tomorrow morning.”
Chapter 3 —The Office
The next morning Tamara parked in the public lot adjacent to the real estate office. She clipped a leash onto Bentley’s camo-colored harness and gave him the “okay” to jump out of the car. He trotted next to Tamara as she headed toward the Victorian-style building.
She loved working in this renovated three-story home. Recently painted in a base color of lilac and accented with teal and orange colors on the gingerbread trim, this antique building was perfect for a real estate office. Clients accessed city parking and each agent had a lockable private office inside a charming building.
Tamara didn’t notice the dark sedan lurking in the public parking lot while its driver snapped pictures. Inside the office, Tamara unlocked the door to her office. Bentley knew the drill, heading straight for his comfy dog bed in the corner. He circled three times and settled onto the thick padding. His chocolate-colored eyes watched while Tamara filled his water dish.
“Stay here, boy. I’ve got an important meeting.”
She grabbed an earthenware coffee mug labeled “Poodle Mom” from her desk, stopped at the beverage center in the hallway, and soon carried a steaming cup filled with chai tea into the large parlor at the front of the building. Tempting pastries were already arranged across a coffee table with individual plates available.
The parlor was decorated in 1800s décor, filled with sturdy but comfortable replica sofas and chairs. Tamara chose a bear claw, her favorite pastry, and settled into an overstuffed chair by the bay window. Nibbling the bear claw, she sipped hot chai and waited for fellow realtors to gather. Beverly soon took her usual chair next to Tamara, sipping strong black coffee from a porcelain teacup and then nibbling a donut covered with sprinkles.
Jack and Mary Templeton entered the room together and stood before the unlit fireplace. After the agents took their seats, Jack wasted no time. “You were all at the emergency board meeting yesterday, so we all know the problem. What we need are viable solutions.”
His wife, Mary added, “We realize it’s important to hold open houses. Our sellers expect us to present their properties to the public, and an open house is your best means to meet new buyers. So how can we protect our female agents?”
Jennifer Sanders announced, “My husband wants me to take time off during this crisis. He’s concerned about my safety and told me not hold open houses alone.”
“I’m also planning to discontinue sitting open houses until the creep is caught,” Beverly said. “I’ve got several investment clients who I already know. I don’t need to search for new clients right now.”
Cynthia nodded. “Since I handle rental properties, I don’t need to do an open house either.”
Mary nodded. “We understand your concerns. Does anyone have any ideas how we can hold open houses safely?”
“Yes.” Tamara cleared her throat and continued, “You all know that my clients, Carra and Mike Taylor, own a dog training facility. I told Carra about the situation yesterday, and she offered a possible solution.”
With a sigh of relief, Jack smiled. “Good. Let’s hear it.”
“Carra trains dogs for protection duty, and she’d like to give them real-life experience. She’s offered to team willing agents with a fully-trained dog at no charge. You all know my dog, Bentley. Yesterday I saw firsthand how a dog, even one as friendly as Bentley, could fend off a possible attacker. It was impressive.”
Beverly leaned forward. “Are you going to use Bentley as a guard dog?” she asked with raised eyebrows.
Tamara nodded, suddenly aware that Bentley had silently joined her inside the room. “Sorry, I guess he heard me mention his name and thought I called him.” Bentley sat very straight next to her chair, looking distinguished. Everyone laughed and the atmosphere in the room became relaxed.
Jack rubbed his chin and turned to Mary. “Could we incur liability if we brought guard dogs to an open house?”
Mary asked Tamara, “Does Carra have a state license to train protection dogs?”
Nodding, Tamara said, “Yes. Also I’ve seen signs warning about her property being protected by trained guard dogs. I’ll ask if she can give us some signs to post at an open house. Let me send her a text.” Tamara tapped the message into her phone.
Mary turned toward her husband. “Since, the Chief of Police specifically asked each office to provide protection for our female agents, this might be a good plan. I’ll call Chief Sterling to ask his opinion.” She headed toward her office with a business card in hand.
Jack gazed at his agents. “Would this solution appeal to any of you?”
Humphrey announced, “I don’t know about the women, but I’m interested for myself. Who says the perpetrator might not change tactics and kidnap men?”
Tamara felt her phone vibrate and read a text from Carra. “She says signs are available for us to post with her license number. She invites everyone to come over to her kennel later this morning. We can all meet the dogs and get a bit of training.”
Mary entered the room with a broad smile on her face. “The Chief knows all about Carra’s dogs, and he feels this would be an excellent option for us.”
Jack said, “Great! Let’s all caravan over to the kennel. No one needs to make a decision right now; we’ll just meet Carra and the animals.” He led them out the door as Mary quickly organized riding assignments in various cars.
Tamara offered a ride to Beverly. Bentley jumped into the Honda and Beverly stroked his fluffy topknot. She said, “I would never believe this mild-mannered poodle could become a protection dog.”
“I was skeptical.” Starting the car, Tamara added, “But he didn’t hesitate to charge a really big guy who jumped out at me. Bentley seemed determined to keep me safe.”
Knowing the women were talking about him, Bentley let his tongue dangle as he gave the women his best doggie grin. Beverly nodded. “Now I see his sharp teeth up close, I have more respect for poodles.”
As everyone gathered in a group at the kennel, they noticed two men standing near Carra. Tamara recognized the first man as Carra’s husband, Mike. Carra smiled and introduced the second man, “I’d like you all to meet Paxton Johnson. He’s a detective from the C
alifornia Bureau of Investigation, leading the task force to investigate the realtor kidnappings.”
Paxton was over six-feet tall with sandy blond hair, a chiseled jawline, and deep tan. He moved with a confident stride to shake hands with each agent and distribute business cards. The women in the group grinned up at the handsome officer, and the men seemed awed by his confident demeanor.
When Paxton clasped her hand, Tamara met his piercing gaze and became entranced by the sky-blue color of his eyes. His grin implied that he knew exactly what she was thinking.
She abruptly jerked her hand away. Blood rushed up from her neck and into her cheeks as she dropped her gaze to examine the business card he’d handed her. “Paxton W. Johnson, that name seems familiar,” she mumbled. Her quivering hand nervously gripped Bentley’s leash.
Sensing her anxiety, Bentley rubbed his head against her knee, staring up at the tall human. A low growl rumbled through his chest, and Tamara rubbed his hair absentmindedly. Keeping her eyes down, she failed to see a slight frown flicker across Paxton’s lips when he noticed the wedding ring on her finger.
Paxton explained to the group, “Mike Taylor and I became fast friends during high school. Last night I called to tell him I’d been assigned to work on the realtor kidnapping case, stationed here in Santa Barbara. When Mike explained about Carra’s idea to assign protection dogs to keep you safe, I decided to see how it works for myself.”
Carra took control of the meeting and explained that the group would start by observing a simulated attack scenario. Using Henry as the assailant, Carra’s dog, Zorro, would demonstrate how a trained guardian deflected an antagonist.
Zorro and Carra walked forward into the practice area. Without warning Henry jumped out to menace the pair, and Zorro charged him swiftly, knocking the enemy to the ground and holding him in place until Carra issued a “stand down” command.
As everyone clapped, Zorro trotted back to his master, looking very pleased with himself. The humans were all impressed, including Paxton Johnson.
