The Ardent File: The ____ File, #1

By Paul Matos

Michael Ardent is a hacker who steals from retires. When he jumps bail Raphael 'Raph' Dawson hunts him down to find that maybe it wasn't Micheal pulling the strings and maybe there is more to this case than a simple fugitive recovery. 
Soon it seems like a whole town is coming down around them. With the help of others will they make it out alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Matos
• Release date: May 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393618577

Book preview

One

At three in the morning, the diner I was standing across the street from had only a few patrons in it. I was wishing it was more empty but then Michael Arendt might not feel so safe. I had been tracking him for a week now, and I was ready to get back home. I missed my family. I have a wonderful wife, and we have blended our family into our new home. Not all of them are living with us, but they were not far either. I am never happy being away from them.

I waited across the street and stood under an awning that was set up for the residential building where I was standing. Rain was starting to come down, just lightly right now. I looked up past the awning and said a word of thanks jokingly. The diner Michael was eating in had swivel seats and old fashion fountains behind the counter, waitresses in poodle skirts and a jukebox in a corner. Booths alined the front window. The door was splitting the sides right down the middle. There was a counter that ran almost the length of the inside with an opening down the middle.

My name is Raphael Dawson, I’m a Private Investigator. You may know me from other stories I have told. If not I’m not offended, but if you’re interested I am sure you could find them. My partner Conner MacClennen and I are always ‘On the Streets for’ someone. We mostly work in the Atlanta area.

This was not one of our cases. Occasionally we get a request from old friends that are still working for the government.

When we left the Navy, we didn’t have enough hours to get our license to investigate, so we started out as bounty hunters. That is what I am doing here now.

Our license allows us to search out of state if needed. I am here alone because Mac is out of the country on something separate.

Typically we don’t work on cases like this but the person I am after today is on a list the U.S. Marshall's sent to us. Occasionally, because of our history, we get an invitation from different directors of Government law enforcement agencies for help. It’s usually something that will cost them too many resources and money to do. So they farm it out to trusted smaller agencies like ours. It often turns out to be good money for us, but less than they would spend if they did the work themselves.

Both Mac and I joined the Navy straight out of college. It was where we met. Sometimes it seems so long ago. We both were young and thought we wanted a long career in the Navy. As it turned out neither of us liked the idea of taking orders. We always followed them, but it wasn’t long before we knew the Navy life wasn’t for us.

I haven’t ever been much for hunting animals for food or sport. I never was that hungry I guess.

People, on the other hand, were a different sort of hunt. People always find a way to hate in ways that still amaze me. For me, the hunt is about making people accountable for their actions. Plus I like the law; it’s a great equalizer. If you do something wrong, there is a punishment for it. I love that most of the time it is fair. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not so naive that I don’t know that there are people in law enforcement that take advantage of their positions. Mostly though, the people I have dealt with only want to serve in one form or another. Besides, there are laws in place that monitor people who do wrong and most of the time that works.

Caring about the majority of people that do good for some reason is not in our nature, or at least that is the way it seems these days. We like to generalize a whole group of people based on the actions of a few bad examples.

Now as I was watching from the awning the rain started to come down more fiercely. It seemed to be coming down like someone above us had a massive firehose, and it was wide open. I watched Michael’s waitress bring him his food. I waited for another few minutes. I wanted him to be concentrating on his food for a while before I headed that way. When I saw that he was deeply engrossed in the food I jogged over to put some speed in the process. It also added the benefit of feeling like I would be dryer if I hurried, I knew that to be an illusion, but it still made me feel better.

I stepped into the diner and shook off the rain best I could in the doorway. The coat did a pretty good job of shaking off the water, but my hair, on the other hand, was another story. Some of the hair was in my face, so I swept it back with my hand as I looked to my left and then to my right where Michael was sitting. I started to walk his way, he glanced up at me but since he had never seen me before he didn’t give me a second thought. He looked back down at his plate which surprisingly, he had mostly emptied in the short time it was in front of him. I sat across from him.

Now he looked at me with curiosity in his eyes. Can I help you with something? he asked with a mouth full of food.

I spoke in a low tone, My name is Raphael Dawson, Michael. I am here on behalf of your bonding company from New York. I’m sure you know what I am talking about and for some reason you have gotten the attention of the U.S. Marshalls, I waited for his reaction.

It was just what I thought it would be. His eyes got real wide, I put my hand up, Please don’t do anything rash. I was hoping to keep this quiet. I am willing to wait for you to finish eating. I have no need to embarrass you.

Looking back now, I realize it might have been the wrong thing to say.

He looked down at his plate with what I thought was a sense of disappointment, then back at me. Embarrass me? Have you lost your mind? It turned out the table was part of the floor, but the seat was not. When he shot up, the booth seat slid back and snapped in two from the force of hitting the table behind him. The only visible door was the front door, so he hopped over the counter and crawled toward the back.

I was up chasing him; as I saw him turn the corner into the kitchen, he doubled back, the sound of a gun report was so loud in the small space that it hurt my ears. I tried to see if anyone in the place was hurt, but couldn’t tell at the moment. Other than the look of shock, I did not see anything unusual.

The bullet had just missed my head. I could smell some hair burning. Damn it, Michael. Is all this really necessary? I asked as I crouched down in-between the counter and the wall that separated the kitchen from the rest of the place.

Hell yeah, I can’t go to prison. His file didn’t list anything about violence, but you never know what someone might do with the threat of their freedom being taken away.

I had my weapon out now. Michael, you don’t have any violent offenses so far. If you come with me now, we should be able to keep it that way.

I ca, ca, can't do the time man. What I did wasn’t that ba, bad. I shouldn’t have to go to jail for so long, Michael said.

You swindled a bunch of elderly people out of their money. You are going to do some time.

Yeah, but it wasn’t like they didn’t have plenty and they still have plenty. I just took a little, he said in a pleading tone.

When I took the job, I received a copy of the police report that the bonding company had. It listed the handful of people that were living in retirement. Yes, he was correct, they were not exactly the typical retirees. They all had large amounts of money which made it easier for them to move on and not depend on the money that was taken from them.

It wasn’t the best idea he ever had because he didn’t do a background check on the victims. One of the couples was the parents of an Appeals Court judge. A woman who not only loved her parents but loved serving the law. She had always been fair and kind despite the kind of work she did. Most judges can get very cynical about people when they do this type of work, but not her. She still believed that most people were generally good and deserved to be treated fairly. She was also hard on whoever needed it. She had a way of reading people and knew when the person deserved to do hard time.

When Michael was the one found guilty of the crime of stealing from her parents she talked to him and got the feeling that he could come back from what he had done. She talked to her parents and together with the DA decided to try and get him as little time as possible and maybe a way for him to use his skills for good.

Michael, you are talking to the wrong person. I am only here to bring you back. Once I do that there is nothing else for me to do.

Alright, give me your account number, and I will transfer you double what you are getting for me, Michael said.

It doesn’t work like that, I said.

Why not. I’m just a paycheck to you.

Couple of things wrong with that. First, I don’t really do this for money. I have plenty of my own money. I do this because I believe in the system. Second, I take your money, and I will never be able to take another case. No one will hire someone who will take money from a respondent. Oh yeah, and it’s illegal, I said.

There was silence for a few seconds. Then another shot went by me. The sound of the bullet going so close to my ear was enough to get my heart pumping pretty hard. Just as I was getting my hearing back, I heard a door open. I stood up and looked at the front door; it was still closed. I turned and ran for the back door. It was still closing when I got to it. I slammed it open and could see Michael running. I gave chase. He was running in between vehicles. Stopping now and then to turn and try to shoot at me again. I could hear his steps, and every time he stopped, I would hunch down below the window line of a car. He was shooting erratically which made it easy for me to track him. I was starting to