Realtors For Sale

by Diane Rapp

  They drove in silence as Tamara blotted her wet cheeks with a tissue. “Where do you want to go now?” Paxton asked as he turned into the visitors’ parking at the Santa Barbara Mission.

  She sighed and thumbed through her MLS book but couldn’t see any other listings Jenkins might have purchased. “If my husband was still alive, he could’ve done a quick title search for us, but…” She stiffened and pulled out her new phone. “If my contacts’ list got completely downloaded from the cloud, I might know someone else who would help find other properties he bought.”

  Excitement pulsated through her hands as she dialed the number listed. “Yvette?” she said as a woman’s voice answered her call. “This is Tamara Owens, Jeffrey’s wife. Yes, I know and I’m so sorry we lost touch. It took me a long time to get my life back on track and face meeting friends again. I’m selling real estate now and you could help me out by doing a title search on a particular buyer. I know it’s after hours. Sure! We’ll meet you at the office in thirty minutes, thanks so much.”

  As Tamara’s face filled with pleasure, Paxton resisted taking the beautiful woman into his arms. He assumed a neutral facial expression and asked, “She will meet us at her office?”

  “Yes! She said she’d do anything to help, day or night, because Jeff was always ready to help a friend.” Tamara rubbed Bentley’s neck as he poked his head between the front seats. “Drive toward downtown on Santa Barbara Street. The bank’s office is just off of State Street and there’s a public parking lot that is open at all hours.”

  They arrived early but could see the back door of the office from the parking place. Soon, Yvette’s car arrived and parked next to Tamara’s green Honda. The women hugged after they got out, and Paxton felt like a third wheel, waiting until the women noticed him.

  Tamara turned and introduced him to Yvette. The woman shook his hand before she led them to the security door at the rear of the office building. Entering a code into the security panel, she unlocked the door. Once inside, she entered another code and turned on the lights in a nearby office.

  Sitting down at a computer terminal, Yvette booted up the computer and entered her personal security codes. Within minutes she lifted her gaze to indicate she was ready to conduct the search.

  Tamara said, “We need to get a list of properties owned by Travis Jenkins, a real estate broker here in town. Paxton is an investigator for the CBI, and we think Jenkins might be connected with the recent kidnappings. It’s important to look at his properties to help find the women.”

  Yvette’s eyes widened but her fingers rapidly moved across the keyboard. The computer took only a moment to compile a list. “We’ve got several properties, one is a commercial office in Montecito, but there are also three houses. Do you want the ones he owns in partnership as well?”

  “Yes.” Paxton leaned forward. “Let’s see a list of everything you’ve got.”

  Tamara thumbed through her MLS book to the sold pages and found a picture of each property on the list. “Two of these houses are in busy neighborhoods. I don’t see them as good prospects to hide kidnap victims. The office in Montecito was too small to hide anyone, but here is a large two-story farmhouse in the foothills surrounded by orchards. It would be a great place to hide the women,” Tamara said, pointing at the picture in her book. “He bought this property two months ago, so they planned ahead.”

  Yvette handed Paxton the printout of all the addresses. He stared at the list, nodding. “The man has been busy in the last six months but nothing before then. I’ll get my team to check out the principals in these other partnerships and see if any names stand out.”

  He touched an app on his phone. “Shirley, I’ve got a list of partnership names we need you to check out. Tamara and I are headed to a farmhouse in the foothills. I’ll send you the partnership names by text.” He gave her the address where they were headed and rang off. Texting a picture of the printout, he said, “Shirley is fast. She’ll get right onto the partnership list. By the way, our warrant came through for the broker’s Montecito office, so Jerry entered with the local police about ten minutes ago. He’ll call me if he finds anything helpful.”

  Tamara hugged Yvette and thanked her profusely for helping. Yvette made Tamara promise to have dinner the next weekend at her house, and the women parted with cheek kisses. As she climbed into the car, Bentley licked Tamara’s cheek and wagged his tail.

  “He always acts crazy when I leave him in the car. It seems like I’ve been gone for weeks to a dog, but it’s also great fun to be loved,” Tamara giggled.

  Paxton enjoyed seeing the sparkle return to her eyes, and tried to ignore the thud of his own heart which matched the rhythm of the poodle’s wagging tail. He said, “Guide me to the address of the farmhouse, navigator.” He waited for instructions.

  “I know the general location but I’ll look it up. In the meantime, head back to the freeway and go north. In a minute I can tell you when to turn off.” Tamara opened a map program on her phone and entered the address they needed to find.

  “I thought you were an expert at finding addresses in Santa Barbara,” Paxton teased.

  “With the help of Google Maps, I can find almost anything,” she replied. “I’ve been told realtors once needed to carry a big spiral-bound book filled with street maps. Now we simply open Google Maps to find addresses, can even call up photos of individual properties.”

  She zoomed into a satellite photo of the house and grimaced. “It looks vacant. Do you think we’re going on a wild goose chase?”

  “How often do they update those photos? It could’ve been taken months ago, besides we can’t see enough details in the photo. Let’s go look in person.” Paxton relaxed as he drove the car, finally certain no one was following them.

  Tamara rubbed her forehead, deep in thought. “Something has been nagging at me. Max called you by name after we caught him.”

  Paxton nodded. “Yeah, he said his boss told him about me.”

  “So how did Travis Jenkins know your name? We never had the chance to interview the man, and you were not well-known in Santa Barbara until this investigation began. Did you ever meet him while investigating in those other towns?” The words tumbled out of Tamara in a verbal flood.

  Paxton’s eyes widened with surprise. “I never considered the possibility since we were so focused on Jenkins. This case was not on my radar until the governor called me on Monday. I’m actually new to the CBI, came from a Homeland Security assignment back east. My mother’s health is declining, so I wanted to work from Santa Barbara as a permanent assignment. I arrived last month to set up the office and move into my mom’s small house. I interviewed team members who were recommended to me from the Sacramento office, so none of us have worked here. When word came down the pike that a serial kidnapper might hit Santa Barbara, I was promptly assigned the case.”

  “Sorry to hear about your mother. You must be worried about her to change your whole life and move here.”

  Paxton’s expression turned serious. “My sister has a husband and family in Maine, so she can’t move. I’ve never married, so it was up to me. Mom’s memory is failing but I look forward to her few good days. I visit her at the care facility several times a week.”

  “I’m sure Max didn’t get your name from Travis, so we may be looking at several criminals working together.” She stared into Paxton’s blue eyes until the Google voice told them to turn off the freeway. They drove along country roads until they approached a farmhouse surrounded by orchards. Tamara said, “We’re here. I see lights in the upper windows.”

  Chapter 13—Operation Farmhouse

  Paxton turned off the car’s lights and parked well away from the house. Bentley growled as he sniffed the air. Tamara said, “The super sniffer has identified a scent.”

  Pointing at a burgundy van parked next to the house, Paxton nodded. “It looks like the same vehicle they used to kidnap the last victim.” He withdrew a gun from the holster under his arm and loaded a bul
let into the chamber. “You stay put while I go check things out.”

  Tamara grabbed his arm. “Wait. There’s a woman in an upstairs window who looks like Phyllis Rodriguez. Bentley could carry a message to the window, so she knows we’re here to help.”

  “He might be clever but how will he carry a message?” Paxton asked, sounding miffed.

  Tamara laughed. “Jeff and I played a game with Bentley. We’d let him carry junk mail back and forth between us, and later we used a small notebook to send each other messages. Jeff would work on his car downstairs, and I’d send the notebook with Bentley to let him know lunch was ready. He loves to carry messages.” She dug into her purse and found a small notebook with tooth marks on the cover.

  Scribbling a quick message, Tamara pointed to the roof covering the wraparound porch. “The note explains that we’re here to help rescue them and asks them to describe the layout inside the house. Boost Bentley onto the roof and hand him the notebook. Say the words, ‘Take it to the woman’ and wait until he brings a reply. If the women inside cooperate in their rescue, it will go more smoothly.”

  Clicking the safety on his gun, Paxton shoved it back into the holster at the back of his waist. His white teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he flashed a grin. “You and Bentley are quite a team. Stay put right here.” He handed his phone to Tamara and said, “Call my team and have them send backup to this address right away. Tell them no sirens!”

  Tamara nodded. Her fingers shook as she pressed the app to dial Paula. The woman answered on the first ring. “What’s up, Paxton?” she asked.

  “It’s me, Tamara. Paxton told me to have you send police to our location. Be sure to tell them NO sirens! He’s going to make contact with the kidnapped women.”

  “Why couldn’t he wait for us?” Paula growled. “We’re already on our way, about ten minutes out by my reckoning. If that cowboy gets himself killed, I’ll never speak to him again!”

  Tamara stared at the phone after Paula hung up. “Me neither,” she mumbled. “Maybe I should go and tell him to wait for ten minutes.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip as she crept closer to the side of the house. The sun had set and there was no moon, making the landscape appear eerie with scraggly arms of bushes snagging her shirt. As Tamara reached the end of the wraparound porch, someone grabbed her.

  A large hand covered her mouth, preventing her from screaming. Recognizing the distinct smell of Paxton’s aftershave, she nodded silently. He released her and pointed up to the roof.

  Tamara saw Bentley’s white shape as he trotted over to the window with the notebook in his mouth. A hand reached through the small opening and snatched the notebook. Bentley sat and quietly waited.

  Two long minutes passed until the hand pushed the notebook back through the small opening. Bentley picked it up and started to trot back to their position. A door opened and a tall man stepped out onto the porch, lighting a cigarette.

  Tamara held up her hand to stop Bentley in his tracks. He stood waiting as acrid smoke drifted through the air, watching Tamara and Paxton for signals. The man paced along the porch, flicking ashes as he approached their hiding place behind a bush.

  The man’s face glowed in the light of the cigarette, and Tamara realized they were looking at Travis Jenkins. A chill crept up her spine, remembering how uncomfortable she had felt during their last encounter. Now she realized he was part of a human trafficking gang and might hold the freedom of those women in his hands.

  Jenkins finished smoking and tossed the butt just as a phone jingled inside the farmhouse. A voice from inside called out, “Hey, Travis, the Boss wants to talk to you about Max. He ain’t checked in.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Jenkins paused before opening the door, as he heard the roof creak above his head.

  Tamara held her breath, worried Bentley might move and give away their plans. Seconds ticked slowly until a squeak from the door’s hinge broke the silence. Jenkins stepped back inside and let the door slam shut.

  They all waited for another thirty seconds, and then Tamara motioned for Bentley to come. He jumped off the roof and Paxton caught him mid-air. The three companions quietly retreated into the orchard.

  “Whew, that was close,” Tamara said as she sat on a large boulder.

  Paxton turned on a small flashlight and read the notebook. “Phyllis says there are four women inside the farmhouse, dressed in skimpy nighties. She says they have no shoes to wear, so they can’t run through the rough terrain around here. Two of the women are kept in a room across the hall and she has one other woman in her room.

  “Their window is screwed in place from the outside, so it stays open just a few inches to give them fresh air. The room holding the other women overlooks a two-story drop.” With anger in his eyes, he turned and whispered, “Why did you come after me? I told you to stay put.”

  She narrowed her eyes and replied, “I spoke with Paula, and she says they’re already on the way. She said to wait ten minutes before you do anything rash. I took a chance because you needed to know how soon they’d arrive.”

  He sighed and nodded with a contrite smile. Writing a new message in the notebook he said, “I’ll tell Phyllis the police will arrive in ten minutes. I’m hoping they can barricade the door when the action starts.”

  “Good idea, let’s get Bentley back onto the roof.” Tamara led the dog back toward the house. Paxton handed him the notebook and boosted him onto the roof. “Take it to the woman,” Tamara whispered and pointed.

  Paxton watched through the windows on the main floor to make sure no one else came outside.

  Bentley proudly trotted back to the window, holding the notebook in his mouth. He waited until the woman handed it back and returned to his master. The dog jumped into Paxton’s arms and handed the notebook to Tamara.

  Paxton led the way back to the Honda where they read the reply. “Phyllis says they will push their beds against the door, and use their bodies as extra weight to keep it shut. She says to send the dog back to the window when everything is clear. They don’t trust anyone else.”

  He laughed. “Bentley, you are the only one they trust. Imagine that!”

  Bentley crunched a dog cookie and then lapped water from his dish. They waited in the dark, hoping nothing would go wrong. Five minutes later, Paxton’s phone vibrated. He answered the phone and Tamara could hear Paula ask, “Where are you exactly?”

  Paxton replied, “We’re parked under a big California oak near the farmhouse.”

  “Hey, I’ve got an idea!” Tamara reached into the back seat of the Honda and pulled out the gym bag she always kept in the car. “I carry a pair of tennis shoes and jogging clothes. Maybe one of the women can wear them.”

  Paxton grinned and made another call to Paula. “Everyone carries extra clothes and shoes in a spare bag. Our victims need clothes and shoes, so round up everything you have available. Thanks.” He turned to Tamara. “The girls stuff will definitely work, and maybe Jerry and Troy can donate T-shirts and shorts.”

  Six police cars arrived at the same time, tires crunching along the gravel road. Tamara worried noise might alert the criminals inside the house, so she gripped Bentley’s muzzle with both hands. “Shhh. No barking,” she whispered sternly.

  He seemed to understand, and wagged his tail like a metronome when Paxton’s team surrounded the Honda. “What’s the plan, Paxton?” Troy asked. “These cops are itching to start shooting, but we told them the hostages are still inside.”

  Jerry added, “At the real estate office we grabbed the answering machine and found a ledger with codes and dollar amounts. Apparently they’ve been taking bids from foreign buyers.”

  Paxton grimaced. “They won’t stay in business after tonight. Let’s just make sure we rescue those women unharmed.”

  Tamara gathered shoes and clothes and stuffed everything into a carryall. She said, “If the women can escape before the police attack, no one will get hurt. Let’s deliver these shoes and garments to
the women and help them crawl over the roof.”

  Paxton objected, “Their window is screwed shut and the other women are kept across the hall. We need to be extra quiet.” He hefted the carryall and nodded. “I’ll crawl across the roof with this bag while the cops get into position. Does anyone have a screwdriver?”

  Tamara’s eyes narrowed and her mouth formed into a determined line. “No, Paxton. Bentley is the one they already trust, and I’m much lighter than you. I should carry the bag to the women.”

  “I have a screwdriver,” Paula said, as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a Swiss Army Knife. She unfolded the screwdriver tool on the knife and held up a lock pick set. “Since Tamara doesn’t know how to pick locks, I’m going along.” Paula cast Paxton a sassy grin. “You know I can easily unscrew the window and pick locks on those bedroom doors, since I’m the expert at breaking into places quickly. Besides Bentley likes me.”

  “Okay, it’s better to get the women out of the house before bullets start flying,” Paxton said, realizing he was outnumbered. “I’ll coordinate with the police, so no one jumps the gun and starts shooting.”

  He quietly waved the armed policeman to gather around as he explain the plan. Quiet arguing was halted when he held both hands in a “T” to call for a time out. “My team is in charge here, so let them work the scene. We plan to get the hostages out before you strike. NO ONE will fire until they receive a signal from me! Is that clear?”

  The police grumbled but nodded their heads in agreement. Paxton watched the two women and dog creep toward the house, forcing himself to breathe.

  When they arrived at the porch, Tamara lifted Bentley onto the roof, climbed up a trellis and reached down to grab the carryall. Soon Paula joined them on the roof. Bentley trotted lightly over to the window.

  When the women started moving across the asphalt shingles, the rafters holding the roof squeaked under their weight. They froze, listening. Phyllis looked out the window and waved to them.

  They heard the sound of a television playing downstairs, but no one rushed out of the house to see what was happening on the roof. It was fortunate the roof covered an open porch, so no one inside the house heard the slight noises as they continued walking.