GOOD PREDATOR, BAD PREY: A BAIL BOND STORY. Part 2. SRBB Blog Post No. 8

 

GOOD PREDATOR, BAD PREY: A BAIL BOND STORY (CONTD)

This is Stingray Bail Bonds signing in! Volusia’s greatest bail bondsman! We bring nothing but good cheer and merry wishes. We will continue last week’s story today, remember the unruly Bruce?

Even though from our previous description of Jake, he appears to be a hothead who made his decisions on the spur of the moment, we failed to do justice to his doggedness.

Jake was like a bloodhound, once he was upon the trail of his prey, this time Bruce, nothing could sway him from his final objective. A little above six feet, Jake was lean, he looked like a runner, with a craggy face and grey piercing eyes. He was mentally tough, physically rugged and as unswerving as a metal tipped arrow. He had defined his objective, and that was finding Bruce. Nothing could sway him now.

Jake began his search by first going to Bruce’s house, he had obtained a warrant to search his house. He nosed about the outside of the house for about twenty-five minutes, taking in the surroundings, then he walked into the house. He proceeded to search every room thoroughly, spending more time in Bruce’s room. Bruce’s room looked like a China shop which had been attacked by a bull, there were cigar butts littered on the floor, bottles of beer lay on the mattress, clothes were scattered all round the room. The window was closed, and the room reeked. As Jake rummaged through the pile of paper scattered inside the wardrobe, he noticed a receipt for a pizza delivery in Port Orange town. There were three of such receipts at different dates. Bruce probably had people there. Then on further searching, he saw a memo from the truck drivers’ association, Port Orange He would begin his search from there.

He returned to his house, packed a few clothes in his backpack and went off to Port Orange. From his thought processes, Bruce would run to the place he felt safe, a place where he had friends, folks like him, a place where he ordered pizza all the time. He had already arranged for Bruce’s credit card to be tracked. Nothing had shown up yet, it appeared the credit card was dormant, and that Bruce paid with cash all the time.

When Jake got to Port Orange, he started making inquiries about the truck drivers association. People didn’t seem to know much about them. however, he was able to get the location where they usually met. Jake drove to a small motel located at the outskirts of the town and waited outside. This was where his inquiries had directed him to.

He had been sitting in his car for about four hours, with the sun beating down mercilessly on him. Once or twice, he would switch on his air conditioner to soften the oppressive heat. But throughout these four hours, his eyes never left the entrance of that motel.

Towards evening, his patience paid off. Four motorcycles pulled up in front of the motel and Bruce and his cronies alighted. They were all big men, Jake observed as he watched them strut into the motel. Bruce didn’t look uneasy at all; he didn’t look like a guy who just skipped bail. Maybe he didn’t consider his crime serious enough? Jake wondered.

He got down from his car and followed them. They had sat down in the bar and ordered drinks. Jake bought a beer and took a sit close to the door, opposite them. He wouldn’t make his move now; he didn’t want to make a scene. He nursed his beer for one hour before Bruce and his friends stood up and left the bar. Jake looked at his watch. The time was 9:17 pm. It seemed like they were turning in for the night.

Jake followed them and watched as each of them stepped into their rooms. After a few minutes, he knocked on Bruce’s door. The door slowly opened, and Bruce’s huge form filled the door.

“What’s it?” Bruce slurred.

“Mr. Bruce Walsh?” Jake asked.

“Who is asking?” Bruce slurred again, this time, suspicion had crept into his eyes.

Jake said nothing, he just kept staring at Bruce.

“Yes, I’m Bruce Walsh, what do you want?”

“I have come to re-arrest you.” Jake said matter-of-factually. “Please come quietly.”

Bruce looked deflated.

“It was not my idea to skip bail.” He mumbled as he followed Jake meekly. “Ben put me up to it.”

Jake nearly laughed out loud. Why was it that wife beaters always turned out to be huge wussies? He thought.

Bruce was given a one-year sentence.

Jake’s boss was highly impressed by the workmanlike way he had carried out this mission. this guy was a keeper. Intelligent and highly motivated people like this didn’t come often.

Jake had proved his mettle. He had made his first arrest efficiently.

 

REMEMBER!:

 
If You’re In The Sling! Give StingRay A Ring!!!
 
StingRay Bail Bonds
244 N. Ridgewood Ave.
Daytona Beach, FL. 32114
 
(386)238-9228
 
 

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