Race for a Patent: The Charles Gang Chronicles, #1

By Phillip Hari

Joe Charles is fresh out of high school and the leader and frontman of his own successful rock band, The Mystics. He's also an amateur detective on the side and somehow always manages to entangle himself in a harrowing adventure.

In Race for a Patent, Joe and the gang attempt to retrieve stolen electric-vehicle battery plans for a local Breckenridge business owner. The gang encounter many pitfalls and life-threatening near misses as they're forced to deal with a dangerous network of criminals who operate above the law. With an important concert date on the horizon, will Joe's skill and ingenuity save the day?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chaitanya Press
• Release date: Jun 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227051721

Book preview

Race for a Patent

Phillip Hari

Chaitanya Press

Copyright © 2024 Chaitanya Press

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Contents

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Epilogue

Chapter I

EXCITEMENT BOILED in his stomach like a volcano ready to burst. He just hoped the phone on the other end would stop ringing. One. Two. Three rings. It stops. A friendly voice reaches Joe’s ear.

Hey there, Joe.

Hey Mark, you think you can meet me at my place after the game? Got a new case to work on.

Sure, I'll be there around ten-thirty. See you then.

It was a quick call, but that was all that needed to be said.

Joe Charles, 18, had just pulled into his driveway. It was a hot night, and the air conditioning in his new sports car was slowly whirring to a stop.

His girlfriend, Julie, was home safe. Their date at The Key, a favorite local amusement park, had been fantastic, as their dates usually were.

But now Mark was coming over. Joe got out of his car quickly and made his way up to his room. It was time to switch gears.

Joe Charles was a specimen, as fair and amazing as they came. Brown hair, green eyes, an athletic build, and fresh out of high school—he was incredibly talented, well liked, and very introspective, to say the least.

He was the lead singer and guitarist of a rock band, The Mystics, that he’d formed a few years earlier. They had already achieved commercial success after the independent release of their first album six months prior, and the band was regularly playing to packed out amphitheaters in the region.

Although Joe had earned enough money to purchase his own place, he wasn't quite ready to give up the comforts of his boyhood home, nor the cooking of his sprightly grandmother and their housekeeper, Audrey Meyer.

When Joe was six years of age, his mother passed away, leaving him and his father to get through life themselves. His father, Mike Charles, being very busy with his architectural firm, hired Audrey shortly thereafter, and when Joe was eleven, his grandmother moved in with them.

At the age of thirteen, Joe began to develop an interest separate from music: solving mysteries for neighbors and friends; and by eighteen, his sleuthing had developed into a full-on sideline profession.

Joe's main focus was his music, but he would divert his attention to detective work whenever a case arose.

The Charles residence, located in a beautiful historic neighborhood, was a large older home situated on a spacious double lot with plenty of maple, elm, oak, and walnut trees. All the neighborhood homes were meticulously kept, with homeowners determined to preserve their idyllic vintage appearance. Large American elm trees lined the street along the sidewalk, leaving the area to retain a very peaceful and calm early twentieth-century feel.

Joe made his way up to his apartment above the garage, evading the usual greetings he gave to his dad and grandmother. On any other occasion, he would have felt a bit guilty, but there was too much going through his brain to think twice about it.

Yesterday afternoon, Joe had received a call from a man who introduced himself as Mr. Lawrence. It was easy to tell right away that the name was fake from the way the voice had delayed in giving it.

The man had asked Joe for a meeting. While he was not in the habit of scheduling meetings with clients who hid their identity, there was something desperate and urgent in the man’s voice that had made him reconsider.

Joe arranged the meeting in a semi-public place, just as Mr. Lawrence had demanded.

Joe sat down at a table in the diner and waited for about ten minutes before he spotted the man at the door, recognizing him from the clothes he had described for easy identification.

The man’s only disguises were a hat and dark, suspicious-looking shades. It was a poorly chosen camouflage, and Joe didn’t hesitate to tell him when he finally made his way to the booth and sat.

Is it that obvious? Mr. Lawrence asked him.

Joe just smiled and did his best not to laugh. He didn’t want to seem rude or disrespectful to the man who was clearly distressed. Next time, try something more casual. No one really wears fedoras and sunglasses inside. Something out of context can’t help but look out of place. He finished with another smile that he hoped looked reassuring and accommodating instead of mocking.

The man removed his hat and sunglasses and let out something that sounded like a sigh.

Joe could finally look him in the eye, and this man, awkwardly sitting across from him on the edge of the seat, looked tired… really tired.

"Look, I hate to put a kid in charge of something this important, but I think I’m going to have to.

"Well, I guess I can start by saying my name is actually Burt Redding. I’m the owner and founder of Veda Enterprises. We're a firm that specializes in making highly specialized performance chips and microprocessors for automobiles.

"Our latest project involves developing a small, lightweight, and extremely powerful nontoxic EV battery that can replace the extremely heavy batteries currently being used—that is, nickel-metal hydride and lithium-ion batteries. The way this battery is manufactured will change the auto industry forever.

Now, Burt Redding’s voice took on a sadder note somewhat, I was just about to implement a couple of changes that would take the design to its final phases, finally enabling me to apply for a patent...

The storm that seemed to have been forming on the obviously troubled man’s face rose to its peak as Joe watched.

I came into the office a week ago after a few of my employees had called me. One of the back upper windows was smashed. Fearing the worst, I immediately rushed into my office and opened up the safe. The battery prototype and plans were gone! Burt flung his hands to the table.

We have competitors, but we wouldn’t even know where to start with them... I have copies of the plans, but I only had one prototype. By the time I get the needed supplies to reproduce what I had and then implement these last changes, my competitors will have already beat me to the patent!

Joe listened intently, a look of grave concern frozen on his face.

I have invested the greater part of the last fifteen years of my life developing this project, and just as I'm inches away from obtaining a patent, the plans are stolen. We're talking millions and millions of dollars at stake and my whole life's work! Burt exclaimed, half in rage and half in despair.

I'm assuming you contacted the police immediately afterward? Joe asked.

The police are aware of the theft and the break-in but aren't aware of the magnitude of the situation. I ended up telling them that I didn't want them to do an open investigation and that I was going to hire a private investigator for the job. They'd probably just muddle up the case anyway.

After regaining some composure, Mr. Redding sat close to Joe as though to emphasize his point. This project is top secret; only a handful of people know. My competitors watch and follow me everywhere. One night, as I was taking out the garbage, I found two men dressed in black lying in my flower bed peering through a window. I ran into the house and quickly locked the door as they chased after me. When the police finally arrived, they were nowhere in sight. That’s why, when I saw the articles on you and your work, I decided that you were the man for the job. I believed you would be both thorough and discreet enough.

The man spoke up again as though he had not made it clear the first time. I’m hiring you not only for your expertise but also your discretion.

Joe nodded his head. "Well, I’m glad you called me because I think I can help.

Don't worry, Joe assured the man. We're gonna find that prototype before anyone has time to finish it and obtain the patent. Joe spoke these words with as much certainty as he could muster, but internally he hadn’t quite yet convinced himself.

After eating a little bit and discussing the case in further detail, they shook hands and went their separate ways.

Joe stood in his doorway as the meeting with Burt still bubbled in his head.

He decided to take the time to clean himself off. A shower was something he could really use now anyway. Having walked around the amusement park for as long as he had made him quite sticky.

The water was warm but refreshing and felt good on his back. Joe’s mind began to wander as he started to mull over multiple things at once. The upcoming show in New York, his new client, and how he was going to explain this to Mark and Don. Talking to Burt had made him a bit nervous.

Maybe I should leave them out of this, he mumbled to himself, letting the water calm his nerves. But he knew