by William Mark
The one who remained in the Range Rover yelled out for the man to come on and not worry about the strange car anymore. Curt felt that the suspicion of the man wouldn’t be easily satisfied until he searched the area thoroughly, so he held a sharp eye through the sights of his Glock aimed toward the front of the car. Suddenly, the same footsteps on crunched gravel headed back toward the Range Rover no longer carrying the threat of death. Curt ducked low and watched the man’s feet walk. He shut the door, put the SUV in gear, and quickly left the area.
Curt waited until the Range Rover was out of sight before standing up. He scanned the area, in case it was a trap, but it was clear. He holstered his gun and ran out into the road to see if he could see where the SUV went. The brake lights blurred off in the distance, and he realized he would never catch up with them, and even if he did, the traffickers might recognize the Crown Vic and instantly be on edge, causing them to do something rash in response. It wasn’t worth the risk at this point to jeopardize their only lead for saving the girls. He walked back around to the passenger side.
“Are you okay?”
Rachel slowly sat up in the tall grass, gathering herself. She nodded at Curt but with a look of bitter disgust. Curt was unsure if it was with him, the traffickers, or something completely different. He stepped forward to help her up when Melinda’s voice came over the comms.
“Curt, we never got the direction of the van.”
“Shit!” He looked far off to the west in a futile attempt to find the panel van, but like the traffickers, it was gone.
Chapter 15
The team huddled in the corner of the hotel lobby, formulating a game plan to go after the traffickers. It was early morning, and there was a line of guests checking out, so they spoke quietly to keep their plan from the ears of any eavesdroppers. Curt stood over the huddled team, leaning up against the wall, sipping a hot cup of coffee, still wearing the tan trench coat. It carried a few more battle wounds from the night before. He had managed to doze off for only a few hours since leaving the house on the bluff, so he needed the caffeine jolt.
Rachel looked up from the group at Curt who held a distant stare. In a moment of levity, she asked, “Isn’t it about time for a new coat? That one’s seen better days.”
Louis, shocked at what Rachel said, shook his head slowly, trying to warn her not to continue. Rachel read the shock and immediately realized she had crossed some unknown boundary and erased her smile. Curt ignored the comment and let Rachel slide.
Beth Young walked up and delivered a bag of various flavored bagels with cream cheese for the team. Her eyes were puffy and protested the early morning start. They grabbed up the breakfast and began throwing out ideas to help the enslaved girls that Curt and Rachel saw the night before.
Rachel started, “We don’t know where they are being housed since they were taken away from the chalet last night. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get any usable information on the van that took the girls or the SUV with the traffickers because of our close call.”
Melinda, Beth, and Louis all instinctively shot glances up at Curt behind them, wondering exactly how close the call was, as they were in the van a quarter mile down the road, listening helplessly.
“So, they are just using the house for the ‘business’ then?” Beth asked.
“Looked that way. Louis, can you and Beth do what you do on the house, see who owns it, lives there, visits…whatever we can find out to try and identify the traffickers?”
“Sure, no problem. That should be easy,” Louis answered.
“What if they don’t come back?” Curt posed the question to the group. Rachel thought, dejected for a second; she had not thought about that possibility. Curt continued, “Most traffickers like to stay on the move, attracts less attention from the cops that way.”
“Well, we’re probably screwed at that point, so let’s hope they feel comfortable enough to use the house again.”
“We should try to follow them again, to see if we could sneak them out? I’m sure it would be too dangerous if we do it at that house.” Beth offered as an alternative.
The group thought about Beth’s plan. Curt rebutted, “I would think wherever they’re housed would probably be fortified with tall fences and barbed wire as well as guarded with more men. I’ve seen it before with the migrant farms back in Florida. They do everything to keep the ‘workers’ from getting out. It’ll be easier at the mansion with what we know than what we don’t.”
“Okay, fine,” she relented.
Louis was working furiously on his laptop to find the ownership of the house. The thought of losing the trail of the traffickers and possibly their only chance of rescuing the young girls they enslaved caused the group to fall silent.
“Got it,” Louis piped up, breaking the silence. “The house appears to be vacant and was a foreclosure taken back by the bank earlier this year. Used to be owned by a South Florida family who apparently couldn’t sell it when the market tanked, and they just let it foreclose.”
“What do they do? Can you tell that?” Asked Curt.
“Um, hang on. I’ll check the social media sites to see what I can find.”
“So, if we want to move sooner than later, we should just set up surveillance on the house and wait and see if they come back?” Rachel offered as a solid option for getting back on track.
“Looks like the guy is a lawyer of some kind, looks like personal injury and…the wife is a dental hygienist. Not very nefarious sounding are they?”
“I was just curious. I saw the big guy use a key. They could have someone working in local real estate who would know the house is vacant. Check which bank owns it; see if we can find a connection that way.
“I’ll head down to the bank, Louis. Just give me the address of their biggest branch.” Beth assigned herself.
With a few strokes of the keys by Louis Melton’s bony fingers, he had an answer, “That’s boring; it’s the First National Bank of Colorado.” He looked up the address, and Beth plugged it into her phone’s GPS. She excused herself and headed up to her room to change for whatever part she had in mind.
“Okay, so assuming they go back to the house, it would be later this afternoon, so we can spot check the house in case anyone shows up early, and in the meantime, see what we can get from the bank?” Rachel asked.
The group nodded, except for Curt. It was a good enough plan, for now, he thought. He was just trying to think of anything they might have missed.
They agreed to meet back in the lobby in ten minutes. They would drive the Sprinter to the bank and let Curt spot check the house up on the bluff. As Louis folded his laptop and was stowing away the power cords, Curt stepped up to him. Rachel had only taken a few steps away and heard Curt ask a question.
“Did you check today? Have anything?” Curt was more worried than curious for the answer. Rachel eavesdropped more out of curiosity than anything.
“Oh, no. Sorry. I did check, and there was nothing today. That’s good right?” He said, holding a helpful grin.
“Yeah, I guess. Thanks.” Curt looked down in relief, but a shroud of sorrow followed. Rachel wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but it was clearly important to Curt. He walked by Louis and offered a friendly hand pat to his shoulder. A gesture that was a little out of character from his gruff nature, as Rachel had started to learn.
***
Mrs. Priscilla Harvey walked into the First National Bank of Colorado wearing black high heels, an elegant red and black dress that hugged her tiny curves, dangling gold earrings, and matching bracelets that jingled as she sashayed through the lobby. She walked with an air of distinction and hid her porcelain like face behind an oversized pair of dark sunglasses. She pulled the attention of the two male tellers and even the young female teller as she passed through the cavernous lobby over to the help desk centered in a massive, gray stone and marble accented floor.
She explained that she and her wealthy husband were looking to purchase some rent
al property to vacation in during the winter months. It was a common enough request, and the customer service clerk motioned for one of three people who were sitting in glass-walled offices in the corner of the massive lobby. The one available was a plump, thirty-something, white guy with glasses and a thick but groomed beard. He buttoned his suit jacket, ran his hand over and smoothed his stylish, dark brown hair on top of his head, and then he walked toward the customer service desk.
“Hi, I’m Jack Cauldress. How can I help you today?” Cauldress accentuated the greeting with a devilish smile.
“Hi, Jack. I’m Priscilla, and I’m interested in finding something to purchase for a vacation rental. I wanted to just hire a real estate agent, but my husband, ever so frugal he is, asked me to check with the banks first to see if there were any quick claims or foreclosures I could look at first.”
“Well, that’s not uncommon these days, so if you would….” Cauldress motioned for Mrs. Harvey to walk in the direction of his office, “Right this way, ma’am.”
Cauldress followed the attractive woman in the snug dress and looked her up and down, imagining her without any clothes on for the brief walk to his office. He saw a fellow co-worker admiring Priscilla in the same manner and shot him a thumbs up as he passed by.
“So, Mrs.…?”
“Harvey, Priscilla Harvey.”
“Mrs. Harvey, what exactly do you have in mind?”
“Well, I’m not into skiing much, not yet anyway, I prefer the warmer locales, but my girlfriends back in LA just won’t shut up about the Vail winter scene, so here I am. I’m a big view person though, so maybe something with a view…and big for entertaining, of course!”
“Ah, we have a lot of those. What’s your budget looking like?”
“Well, I may have to work on my husband a little bit, but I’d say no higher than five million.”
Cauldress’s eyes lit up at the huge amount his newest and certainly attractive customer offered, as he could just taste the commission check on this sale. He calmed himself and continued to seek out all the requirements of his guest because there was no way he was going to let this whale of a client get away.
After an hour and many sexual innuendos, Cauldress had the rich Mrs. Harvey eating out of his hands. She was primed and ready to buy one of the bank’s many foreclosures, at above the market price, if Cauldress had anything to do with it. He had seemingly narrowed down her search to three houses in the greater Vail area, all prime for social interaction, entertaining, and of course, close proximity to good skiing mountains no matter the skill level.
“Oh my, it’s getting close to lunch, and I’m starving. Is there a place around here for lunch?” Mrs. Harvey asked.
“Yes, matter of fact, there is a local favorite of mine, just around the corner. A little bistro just down the corner serves the best Rueben sandwiches in the state,” Cauldress added with a flirting smile.
Mrs. Harvey smiled back with a little extra gleam in her stare that Cauldress was quick to pick up on.
“You know what, Mrs. Harvey?”
“Please, Priscilla.”
He smiled again, pleased with his charm, “Priscilla, I am hungry myself; please let me take you to lunch.”
“Oh, that would be nice; thank you. We can discuss which house we can look at first?”
“Exactly.”
Jack Cauldress made a quick phone call as Priscilla Harvey waited by the door. He hung up, grabbed some breath spray, and squirted a few hits in his mouth. He checked his tie in the wall mirror, straightened his hair once again, and left his office. Out of the sight of Mrs. Harvey, he walked by the envious co-worker and gave him a high five as he passed.
“If all goes well my friend, I’ll see you tomorrow!”
Cauldress took Mrs. Harvey by the hand and escorted her gentlemanly out of the bank and down the street to the quaint bistro. She donned her oversized sunglasses to combat the bright midday sun but more so because it completed her fashionable ensemble. He talked her into ordering a Chardonnay, which she initially declined because it was admittedly a weakness of hers, and he sat close to her at the round patio table. After ordering lunch, she took a few sips of the wine and downed the whole glass in one final gulp. Cauldress impatiently ordered the waitress to come back and refill the glass.
“So Mrs. Harvey, how long are you staying in Vail, and when will Mr. Harvey be joining you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I doubt he’ll come; he always has to work, so he says. But, whatever, I’m a big girl and can handle this on my own. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think we can find that house you are looking for today, and I was thinking of celebrating with you tonight!”
“Oh, really?” Mrs. Harvey asked, as she worked on her second glass of wine. She swayed ever so slightly from the effects of her Chardonnay. She offered her lunch date a flirting smile. He held her stare and softly set his hand on top of hers.
“Yes, really. I think we have a special connection; don’t you agree?”
Mrs. Harvey slid up her large rimmed sunglasses to the top of her head and looked at the man tenderly with longing eyes. She carefully looked over to her right out into the large intersection that the Bistro’s patio overlooked, but not locking onto anything specific. She let her hand be caressed by Jack Cauldress while she visually searched the area for something.
Annoyed at the sudden diversion of attention, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She said, quick and surprisingly sober. She slid the sunglasses back down over her eyes.
He slid his hand off of hers and looked out over the intersection trying to understand what exactly she was searching for. His annoyance continued to grow.
“What are you looking for?”
Mrs. Priscilla Harvey set down the wine glass and fished out a sheathed iPad from under the table. She opened up the soft cover and powered the device on. She remained silent as she followed this up by removing a set of headphones from her purse and plugging them in to the bottom of the iPad.
“Here, put these in.” She handed him the headphones.
“Huh? Why?”
“Just do it.” Jack Cauldress realized that the suggestible Mrs. Harvey had had a quick and severe personality change before his eyes. He looked at the iPad and the ear buds and let his spirit of adventure give him the assurance to do what the woman asked. He put them in, however confused he was and held on to the possibility of the sale going through as well as the sex, if he played along.
She angled the iPad so he could just see the face of the screen. She turned her head back toward the intersection and said, “Go ahead.”
“Who are you talking—”
Jack cut himself off as he looked down at the screen. A pretty, blonde woman with a serious look on her face was now staring back at him on some video chat. He instantly liked where this was leading. He smiled at the image as she realized he was on the other end of the FaceTime call.
“Hello Jack, my name is Rachel, and you are going to help us rescue several girls who are victims of human trafficking and prostitution.” The arrogant smile perpetually pasted on his face vanished as he listened. “And before you get up and walk away, just know that if you don’t want your dirty little secrets to make their way to the local police, or your boss, I think you should just sit there and hear me out. We are watching you from across the street, so nod that you understand.”
Images of many misdeeds came flooding through the thoughts of Jack Cauldress. He was ashamed to admit it was a long list. He didn’t like where this was going, but whatever was going on, he had to play it cool. He could probably bluff his way through this charade, knowing his secrets were well guarded. However, the fear of the unknown kept him in his seat. He slowly nodded at the pretty-faced woman on the screen. Then he figured they were going to extort him and wanted money from the bank. I can handle this, he thought.
“Good, now just in case you think I’m bluffing, we found your little collection of
‘trophies’ at your apartment this morning while you were busy trying to get in the purse and pants of Mrs. Harvey.”
“Bullshit!” He shouted out, catching the attention of the other Bistro patrons.
“Oh, don’t believe me? Let’s see, the video collection of all those ladies you seduced, probably after having lunch right there at that same little Bistro, probably used that lame Rueben line on them too. The hiding place in the closet, under the carpet and sunk in the floor…, sounding familiar?”
The blood started to drain from Jack Cauldress’ body. His head stirred dizzily in confusion, and he grew lightheaded.
“Ahh, now you believe me. Ready to listen?”
“Okay.” He mustered weakly. Cauldress felt lost and vulnerable now that his secrets were discovered, but as this woman on the tiny screen described the exact hiding place of his precious videos, he was frozen in place. The rest of his blood drained completely from his body.
Unbeknownst to Cauldress and before Priscilla Harvey entered the bank that morning, Louis had quick success hacking into the bank’s security camera system. Most major banks were going to a system that fed the footage wirelessly to a server off site, and First National was no exception. An off-site server served to combat intuitive robbers who would destroy the onsite recorders in attempts to destroy evidence. Louis was able to breach the firewall and piggyback the outgoing feeds and watch inside the bank. It only took about thirty minutes of watching the three potential real estate candidates to peg the plumpy, faux debonair Jack Cauldress as the possible bank connection to the traffickers. As he worked the eager Mrs. Harvey, the team was able to search through his bank accounts, criminal history, and credit reports before hacking into his work computer, which was done while he had stepped away briefly to grab items off the printer. He was too busy oozing his charm over his potential client to notice a thumb drive with blue tooth capabilities had been inserted into his computer.