Some debtors know exactly what's coming. They know they're about to be served, and they'll go to great lengths to avoid it. That's what happened while we were enforcing a $1.6 million judgment entered in Los Angeles, California.
We needed to personally serve the judgment debtor with an Order to Appear for Examination, known as an ORAP. An ORAP is a court order that requires the debtor to come to court and answer questions under oath about their income and assets. If the debtor doesn't show up, the court can hold them in contempt and issue a bench warrant for their arrest. The ORAP usually comes with a subpoena requiring the debtor to bring financial documents to the hearing, such as bank statements, pay stubs, and property records.
ORAPs are one of the most powerful tools a judgment creditor has, but they come with one requirement that can be very hard to meet: the debtor must be personally served. That means handing the papers to the debtor themselves. Leaving them with a family member or roommate doesn't count.
The rule exists for due process reasons. Because a debtor who ignores an ORAP can be held in contempt or even have a bench warrant issued for their arrest, the court needs to be certain the debtor actually received notice of the hearing. That makes sense, but it's a real headache for creditors. The debtor has every reason to avoid service so they never have to come to court and hand over the information the creditor needs to collect.
It becomes a battle of wits. Can the creditor catch the debtor off guard? And once the debtor knows service is coming, can they duck, dodge, and hide long enough to run out the clock? There's also a timing rule: under California law, the debtor must be served at least 30 days before the ORAP hearing, and that deadline is strict. Miss it, and you need a new hearing date. That's why we usually schedule ORAP hearings 60 to 90 days out, to give ourselves plenty of time to find the debtor and complete service.
This debtor was DETERMINED to avoid service. His plan was simple: dodge service at all costs, waste our time, run out the clock, and run up our process server bills as high as possible. (Process servers charge extra for difficult serves, and this one was about as difficult as they come.)
The service attempts began in April 2026, with our top Los Angeles process server on the case. She knocked on the debtor's door, but he had security cameras, saw her coming, and refused to come outside or identify himself. Without confirming the debtor was inside and identifying him in person, she couldn't complete valid service.
So now what? She had no choice but to set up a stakeout: wait outside the debtor's home until he steps outside, and then, boom, "you've been served." Stakeouts take patience, a lot of sitting around, a lot of coffee, and serious determination.
Despite our best efforts, including several long stakeouts, the debtor kept slipping away. At one point, our process server discovered he was parking his truck on a nearby street instead of in front of his house. He was moving between the truck and the house late at night and early in the morning, slipping inside without being seen. On one occasion, we believe he walked right across the street from the process server's car, and by the time she spotted him, he was gone. Every time we thought we had him, he slipped through our fingers.
Then the trail went completely cold. For months, there was no activity sighted at the property at all. The debtor's truck sat parked outside his house for three months without moving. After a few weeks, it was covered in a thick layer of dirt and dust.
We started to assume the worst: he was hiding somewhere else, maybe driving someone else's car or a rental. We had no leads. We checked his brothers' addresses to see if he was staying with them. We even sent process servers to Pennsylvania in case he was hiding out with his elderly mother. Strike after strike.
At a certain point, frustration creeps in. More than one internal conversation went like this: "Where the heck is this guy hiding??" But we never give up.
So we subpoenaed the debtor's records directly from his bank. After a very thorough review, we found that he had been visiting several state park campgrounds over the summer. Could he really be camping out to avoid us? We couldn't rule it out, so we dug deeper.
That's when we found it: the debtor had a SECOND vehicle, a classic late-1960s Volkswagen camper van. The van was insured through a classic car insurer, and the debtor was buying used aftermarket parts for it and paying for maintenance at a nearby auto shop.
Next came a wild goose chase for the VW around all of the debtor's known addresses and rental properties. After a lot of driving, we found it parked one block from his house, on a side street you'd never think to check. His dog was inside, standing on the driver's seat and looking out the window.
We wanted to serve him on the spot, since we suspected he was inside the van with his dog. But the ORAP hearing was 29 days away, ONE DAY short of the 30-day requirement. We had to let him slip away one more time while we got a new hearing date.
A few days later, with a new ORAP hearing on calendar, our process server went back at 6 a.m. By then we had figured out his routine: he hid in the van until late at night, when the coast was clear, then quietly slipped into his house to sleep in his own bed.
Finally, after several thousand dollars in process server fees and dozens of hours of investigation, our process server served the judgment debtor at 6:30 a.m. as he was climbing into his VW van.
If you're a judgment debtor, you can run and you can hide, but not forever. With enough persistence, a good process server will find you, and you will be served. This one took a lot of time, money, and creativity, but the Final Verdict Solutions team never gives up. We will get the debtor served, and we aren't afraid to roll up our sleeves and play cat and mouse to make it happen.
Holding a judgment over $25,000 against a debtor who won't pay? Contact Final Verdict Solutions about selling your judgment.
