by Diane Rapp
The defense attorney objected, “Your Honor! The witness is rambling, answering questions not asked. His unsubstantiated statements will prejudice the jury!”
“Confine your answers to the questions asked, Mr. Jacobs,” Judge Montgomery admonished with a slight smile.
Nodding, Pamela Williams cleared her throat and asked, “Mr. Jacobs, how did your partnership with Zina Jones begin?”
Max folded muscular arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair. The tattooed head of a snake filled the back of his hand. He stated, “She was a hooker in Santa Monica, called herself Gypsy. I paid for a night with her, a very memorable experience, if you know what I mean. After our first hookup, we met regular-like. Zina was a real smart cookie, believe me. One night she said we should split town and go into business for ourselves, you know grabbing other hookers and selling them out-of-state.” He flashed a predatory grin toward the defense table.
The prosecutor asked, “How long were you in business together?”
“Three years, until the danged poodle took me down. We’d still be operating if it wasn’t for the blasted dog.” He glared at Tamara. “Zina got wind of some rich sheik who wanted to buy a harem full of movie-star lookalikes. He didn’t want no hookers, so Zina blackmailed them two brokers sitting at her table to help her find some classy broads.”
Pamela Williams stated, “Please note for the record the witness is referring to the two co-defendants, Dana Thompson and Travis Jenkins. Why did you target real estate agents, Mr. Jacobs?”
He smirked. “Zina figured realtors was easy marks, you know, holding open houses all alone every weekend. Dana and Travis gave us names and took pictures of women who looked like famous stars. I grabbed the first three women without a fight, but after my run-in with that there dog, Travis Jenkins helped me nab the fourth woman to finish the sheik’s collection.”
Silence filled the courtroom. Zina scowled at Max and slumped down in her chair.
Pamela Williams asked, “Did you make a second attempt to kidnap Tamara Owens?”
Looking sheepish, he nodded and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I got embarrassed, so I followed her, and her cop boyfriend, to a fancy house on Brinkerhoff. They laid a right good trap, lured me inside, and nabbed me before I got my hands on Suzanne. I sit here ratting out my partners because Suzanne and her nasty poodle took me down, twice. I’ll never live down the shame, had lots of rumbles in prison because guys taunt me. They called me poodle bait!”
“You refer to Tamara Owens Johnson by the name Suzanne. Please tell the court why?”
Max scowled. “Zina made us call all the broads by the names of the film stars they looked like, so they’d get used to the names their masters would use. She looked like Suzanne Pleshette.”
“How can you prove to the court you kidnapped forty-nine women before being arrested?” the prosecutor asked.
Max chuckled and winked at Zina. “I kept me a list of names, dates, and the prices we got for each broad we snatched. Zina pegged me for being a stupid thug, but now I’m the one makin’ deals with the cops. I gave my lawyer my list with the go-ahead to deliver it to the cops after I testified today. Got you, good!” He pointed at Zina, who glowered at him. “Judge, I hope you notice I never used curse words in court just like the prosecutor told me.”
“Indeed, the prosecution regularly admonishes witnesses to refrain from using bad language in court, your Honor. We have no further questions for this witness.” Pamela Williams strolled back to her desk, smiling at Tamara.
Harvey Peters ambled forward, shaking his head in dismay. “Mr. Jacobs, you just admitted, under oath, that you kidnapped all of the women in question by yourself. Why should we believe my clients had anything to do with your scheme?”
“You forget about the broad Jenkins helped nab. He were the one who stuck her since my hand was wrapped in bandages.” Max’s jaw bulged and his eyes narrowed. “Zina always kept herself in the shadows, but she made the guys working for us call her Boss! If I didn’t have Zina as a partner, I’d have my mitts on a big stack of money. I know for a fact she stashed plenty of dough in the Caymans, but I had to use a public defender for my court case. She never once offered to pay for an expensive lawyer like you to help me out, so we ain’t partners no more.”
Peters scowled as he flipped through his notes. “You testified that Tamara Owens Johnson set a trap to arrest you, using her attack dog. Did the police also entrap my clients at the airport? Wasn’t the whole event staged?”
Max shrugged. “I weren’t no part of delivering the merchandise, since I was already cooling my heels in jail. But I wouldn’t put it past them cops to use a pretty woman and her mean dog to catch the rest of the gang.”
“The defense has no further questions for this witness.” Peters walked toward his clients, who whispered angrily between themselves.
As Max sauntered out of the courtroom, he glowered at Paxton, who passed him in the aisle. Paxton approached the prosecutor. As they whispered, Tamara heard him mention Bentley’s name. She wondered what was happening.
Pamela Williams approached the judge. “Your Honor, we request the court’s indulgence for a demonstration. The defense has painted a picture of a vicious dog, used to entrap his clients. To refute those claims, the prosecution wishes to introduce the particular dog in question. Please allow the jury to see the truth for themselves.”
Peters jumped up from the table and bellowed, “Your Honor! This is highly irregular! Animals are not allowed in court, in addition, the defense was not notified about said demonstration in advance.”
Judge Montgomery chuckled. “You opened the door with your inflammatory statements, Counselor. I will decide whether an animal can appear before the bench of this court. In this particular case, I will allow the dog to appear if the prosecution can maintain control of said animal.”
“Thank you, your Honor,” Pamela said. “He is very well behaved.”
The doors to the courtroom opened. Wearing his camo vest with a “service dog” label on each side, Bentley trotted happily down the aisle while Aunt Jessica held his leash. He stopped briefly to lick Tamara’s hand, but responded to a gentle tug on the leash as Jessica led him toward the bench. When she halted before the judge, Bentley immediately sat and let his pink tongue dangle off to the side of his open mouth in a doggie smile. He placidly gazed at all the interesting humans inside the courtroom.
Judge Montgomery peered down at the friendly-looking animal. She asked, “Is this the vicious dog we’ve heard described today?”
Jessica nodded and glanced at the prosecutor, who explained, “This woman is Tamara’s aunt, Jessica Miller. She doesn’t normally handle Bentley, but as you can see, he easily responds to her commands.”
Using hand signals, Jessica held her hand with palm faced down and moved it toward the floor. Bentley immediately dropped to the floor, watching her intently for the next command. She moved to the end of the leash, lifted her hand palm up, and Bentley popped back into a sitting position. In a sweeping gesture, her hand motioned toward her body, and the dog trotted forward. He sat politely in front of Jessica, looking very proud of himself.
Harvey Peters objected, “Your Honor, we concede the dog is well-trained. The defense argues that a trained dog could be ordered to attack and become uncontrollable. The photos of injuries this animal caused to Zina Jones are vivid illustrations already placed in evidence.”
Judge Montgomery contemplated his statement and said, “The defense makes a good point. How can the court ascertain this dog can be controlled while performing aggressive protection duties?”
As the humans spoke to each other, Bentley slumped to the cool floor and scratched vigorously at his ear, causing chuckles to sweep through the jurors and the crowd. Pamela Williams stepped forward and stated, “If the court would care to witness a complete demonstration of Bentley’s training regimen, the dog’s trainer has set up equipment on the lawn outside.”
The
judge grinned. “If the prosecution guarantees to keep everyone safe, we’d be well-informed to see such a demonstration.” She pounded the gavel. “Court is recessed while we assemble the jury outside for an official demonstration. Follow court officials in an orderly fashion, please.” Judge Montgomery rose and strolled down the aisle with her black robes billowing, followed by jurors walking single file. Onlookers moved quickly down the outside aisles to exit the courtroom.
Tamara gripped Paxton’s arm. “I should’ve known you had something planned when the defense lawyer started blaming Bentley for everything. Thanks, honey.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “We should’ve anticipated this kind of tactic. They mean to claim gunfire at the airport was caused by Bentley’s aggressive attack, but I quickly made phone calls to rectify the situation. Jessica was eager to help, and Carra quickly arrived with a trailer full of equipment.”
“I pray nothing goes wrong. I’d hate to see those criminals walk,” Tamara added.
On the broad lawn behind the courthouse, Carra waited for the crowd to gather. She directed onlookers to stand around the perimeter of the agility course. Obstacles had been spread across the lawn with an open area in the middle. Tamara wondered if a padded “assailant” was hiding somewhere to demonstrate the protection part of Bentley’s training.
Paxton nudged Tamara and said, “Bentley looks worried. Why don’t you go take his leash from Jessica and direct him through the course yourself?”
Glad she wore sensible shoes today, Tamara walked forward, took Bentley’s leash and kissed her aunt on the cheek. She addressed the judge and jury in a strong voice, “The equipment assembled here is used during agility competitions. That’s Bentley’s favorite activity, so we’ll show you how he runs through the course.”
Not in any condition to run while pregnant, Tamara stood in the middle of the lawn to direct Bentley using hand signals. As the nimble poodle raced through the various apparatus, he barked happily. Bentley bounded over jumps, climbed the a-frame wall, twisted his body through the weave poles, trotted across the teeter-totter, and thundered through the tunnel. After he finished, the crowd clapped, and Bentley bounced around Tamara barking happily.
Suddenly a man covered with thick padding darted out from a nearby tree, waving his arms as he ran toward Tamara. Bentley sprang into action, placing his body between his owner and the aggressor. Growling, he crouched but stood his ground until the attacker raised a fake pistol.
Spotting a potential weapon, Bentley charged the attacker, heedless of any danger to himself. He leaped into the air, grabbed the attacker’s padded arm, and dislodged the fake weapon within seconds. The man fell onto the ground as Bentley continued to grip his arm, snarling.
Tamara calmly stepped forward. “Bentley, stand down!” she ordered in a loud voice. The poodle abruptly released the enemy and trotted happily back to his master. He kept a vigilant eye on the man, ready to charge again at the sign of any trouble.
Carra Taylor moved to Tamara’s side and explained to the crowd, “Bentley just exhibited the standard disarming technique of a trained protection dog. He took the aggressor down and held him in place until his handler ordered him to stand down.”
As Carra finished talking, Bentley caught a scent that put him on alert. His long nose pulsated as his head turned to follow the hated smell. Chains rattled as a burly man dressed in orange walked slowly down a nearby sidewalk, flanked by two armed guards.
Bentley reacted. He moved his body in front of Tamara and started barking at the convict. People in the crowd turned to see Max Jacobs scowl at the poodle. “Get me away from that attack dog! He means to take a chunk out of me again,” Max shouted.
The guards chuckled as Max pointed at the white poodle, and they shoved him into a prison van waiting at the curb. One of the guards loudly chided, “Poodle bait,” and Max roared in anger.
“It’s okay,” Tamara said as she stroked Bentley’s neck. “That vile man can’t hurt us now.”
As the van’s door slammed shut, Bentley issued one last woof and leaned against Tamara’s leg. When the prison van pulled into traffic, the dog relaxed enough to scratch his ear with a hind foot.
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Judge Montgomery announced, “I believe we’ve seen enough. Please return to the courtroom. Court will resume in five minutes sharp, so do not loiter outside chatting.” She marched toward the courthouse entrance with a smile curling the corners of her mouth.
Tamara and Paxton moved across the lawn holding hands. Suddenly she halted and grabbed her belly. “Oh, no! My water just broke. Hurry, we must get to the hospital right away. Our baby is coming.”
Jessica rushed forward, filled with concern. Bentley whined but Jessica used soothing tones to encourage her niece. “You’ll be just fine, dear. Carra’s van is parked nearby, so we don’t need to call an ambulance.” She guided Tamara to the van and said, “Paxton, tell your team about this turn of events and please meet us at the hospital.”
Paxton ran inside the building, his eyes wide with alarm.
Tamara glanced at the crowd entering the courthouse. She wondered how her friends’ testimony would go but realized she couldn’t watch in person. As she reached the van, Bentley hugged her side.
Jessica announced, “Carra, you must drive Tamara to Cottage Hospital right away. We’re having the baby now.”
Carra gasped and helped lift Tamara into the van, using the sliding door on the side. She shouted, “Henry, unhitch the trailer but keep loading our equipment. We’re taking Tamara to the hospital. I’ll call Mike and ask him to bring his truck to haul the trailer home.”
Beads of sweat formed on Tamara’s forehead as a contraction hit. Bentley laid his head in her lap and gazed worriedly up into her face. Carra noticed and told Tamara, “I’ll take Bentley to the kennel with me until Paxton can take him home. He’ll enjoy playing with Zorro and Zulu.”
“Thanks. I doubt they’d let him in the hospital.” Stroking the dog’s soft hair calmed her nerves. “I’ll be okay, boy,” she murmured.
Three hours later, Jeffrey Dean Johnson uttered his first angry wail in the delivery room. His proud father held the little tightly-wrapped body closer for an exhausted mother to view. “He’s got your temper, Tamara,” Paxton teased.
She laughed, “He’s got your nose and your curly hair.” She stroked the fuzzy down of blond hair on the baby’s pink head and felt pure joy when his tiny hand grabbed her finger. The nurses moved them into a private room and Aunt Jessica soon joined them.
“He’s perfect,” Jessica declared. She lingered for a few minutes cooing at the little guy. “I’ll go tell the others he’s healthy and leave you two with your new son. There is a packed waiting room filled with anxious friends.”
Paxton set Jeffery Dean gently into Tamara’s arms. “This won’t be a day we forget anytime soon. We closed a successful court case with those criminals going to prison. Now my team has forty-five more kidnapped victims to track down. We’ll be busy for a very long time. Since we convicted the gang, we need to rescue those poor victims we learned about today. The governor called me to offer her congratulations on breaking the largest human-trafficking ring in the state’s history.”
Tamara snuggled her baby but turned her gaze up to her husband’s face. “Will you need to go back to Sacramento now?” She tried to keep the worried tone out of her voice, but her husband wasn’t fooled.
Paxton shook his head. “Troy and Shirley are already working on twelve confiscated computers. The equipment nearly fills our old office. Paula and Jerry are busy comparing missing person files from all across the state to Max Jacob’s list. I told the governor we’re staying put. She knows I need to live near our family members, so she agrees we can keep the satellite office in Santa Barbara open.
“Since Dana’s property has been confiscated under RICO laws, we will soon gain possession of the fancy real estate office. My team got very excited when they visited those spacio
us rooms last week.”
They heard female voices echo through the hallway outside the room. “Are you too tired to see a few friendly faces?” he asked. “Everyone is eager to meet Jeffrey Dean.”
Pushing damp hair away from her forehead, Tamara grinned. “I’m anxious to see everyone. We were planning to meet for a quiet lunch, but babies have their own agenda.”
Three bubbling women rushed into the room. “You missed our exciting testimony,” Charlotte said as she bent over to tickle Jeffrey’s fat cheek. “Who knew your attack dog demonstration would grab all the headlines? His picture is all over the news. Our testimony was just the frosting on the cake.”
“We were all stressed out, worried the sensational details of our kidnappings would be the big news.” Bonnie laughed and continued, “By the time the prosecutor finished with our closed-door testimony, the defendants moved to make a deal. The defense attorney looked depressed.”
Charlotte added, “You can imagine our shock when the sheik turned up to testify before we were called to the stand. He claimed he had signed contracts with Zina to provide actresses for a movie he wanted to sponsor, a remake of How to Marry a Millionaire. He delivered translated documents to the judge and swore he never knew about the kidnappings. To top it off, he offered each victim a share of the gold he had delivered to Zina as restitution. We will all be millionaires soon.”
“He would never get the gold back.” Paxton laughed. “The sheik’s government gave him orders to offer a fair settlement, or they wouldn’t assist him in staying out of jail. I’m sure they were worried about bad press worldwide. The card the sheik gave to me, stating he had diplomatic immunity, was forged. I doubt the guy will ever leave his home country again.”
Tamara handed her sleeping baby to a nurse and watched the woman place him into a rolling crib. She sighed as Jeffrey went to the nursery but turned back to her friends. “So, enough about the boring trial. What’s happening with you girls?”
