So, I bit my tongue and forced a smile. “Well, I am now,” I said. “And the story I have in mind is a big one.”
Chris raised his eyebrow and waved his hand. “Proceed, Miss…?”
“Dawson.” I tried not to sound annoyed that I had to remind him of my name twice in the span of five minutes.
“Right, Miss Dawson.” He adjusted his ill-fitted suit jacket and motioned for me to get on with it. Again.
God, this guy…
“Okay, we all know about the rise and fall of the Hell’s Seven.” I launched into my practiced pitch. “We know that Alvarez Senior, the former gang leader was found dead of apparent natural causes over a year ago. His son CJ was killed along with several gang members in Rhode Island. CJ had taken over the leadership role after the older Alvarez was thrown in jail—”
“Your plan is to write about something every New Yorker already knows? Riveting.” Chris’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he cut me off, seeming unimpressed and bored.
“What people don’t know, or at least don’t know for sure is if the Hell’s Seven are gone for good, or if they’re just underground. I personally think it’s the second one.”
Chris narrowed his eyes, lifting one eyebrow, as if patronizing me. “What makes you say that?”
“A notorious club like the Hell’s Seven doesn’t just disappear when their leader dies. They’ve been around for years even before the Alvarez family took over.”
He sat back in his seat and clasped his hands on his large belly, letting out a loud grunt. “If you have a point, Ms. Dawson, I suggest you make it. Right now, you’re just wasting my time.”
I allowed my mask to slip and fixed him with a glare. “If you would give me time to finish talking, I could get to my point,” I finished in a less-than-friendly tone.
Chris was taken aback.
I could tell by the way he blinked rapidly and sat straighter in his chair. He signaled for me to continue, seemingly more alert.
“My plan is to get the real story,” I continued. “We know what the police have said, but come on. There’s absolutely no way this MC is gone for good. For one thing, former members are still seen around the city, together and alone, sporting their tattoos out in the open.”
I turned my tablet toward Chris so he could see the club articles and photos I’d collected. For the most part, it was just small snippets about suspected crimes and members, but they highlighted the point I was trying to make.
“I want to learn who the leader is, and I think New York should know, too.”
“We know who the leader is,” Chris said. “Probably another Alvarez. That’s not very mysterious.”
“‘Probably.’ Key word. But highly unlikely, according to my research.”
“CJ’s son then.”
“Both his sons are four or five years old at best, and as soon as CJ died, their mothers skipped town. As far as I can tell, nobody knows where they are. Somebody new is running things, yet nobody really knows anything about him. Everything points to the club being back, but nobody’s publicly taking credit for its resurgence. MCs like the Hell’s Seven don’t stay dormant for long, and they definitely don’t run themselves.”
Chris didn’t speak right away. He kept scrolling through the information I gave him, studying the numerous articles and notes I had taken. That was a good sign. If he wasn’t taking my claim seriously, I doubted he would waste his time continuing the meeting.
“So, what makes you think you can find out who it is?” He eventually met my gaze, handing me the device back.
I had him.
Hook, line, sinker.
Now I just had to reel him in.
“I already have.” Scrolling through the photos on my tablet, I came to a blurry one of a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark sunglasses walking into a building. His features were obscured due to the photo’s low quality. All that could be seen was brown hair with dirty-blond strands and temple tattoos, which at least made him stand out from the average person. “There’s a strip club called Sinner’s Lounge in Staten Island where a lot of the Hell’s members are spotted. This is the owner.”
“What’s his name?”
“Joshua Vorn.” Josh. God, that name would haunt me for the rest of my life. It was hard not to think about my ex when I heard the name, but I pushed past it to focus on the task at hand. “He’s the one who bought the run-down building and turned it around really fast. He’s been seen in the presence of several gang members, yet nobody can get a clear picture of him. I think he’s the new leader.”
Chris’s eyebrows shot up as he flipped through the only other photos of Vorn, all of which were blurrier than the first. He shook his head, narrowing his eyes at one of the images. “I don’t like the looks of this guy. Seems like a dark motherfucker.”
Just as I went to speak, he held up his hand, cutting me off. “I’ve got a source. He remembers everything that’s happened in this town.” He set my tablet on his desk and scrolled through his rolodex until he found what he was looking for. “The name’s Hank. I’m going to call him, but don’t say a word. You’re not here. Understood?”
I nodded.
The line rang on speaker a few times before a gruffy male voice answered, “Yeah.”
“Hey, Hank. It’s Chris. Got a minute?”
“Sure, what can I do ya for?”
“The name Vorn ring a bell?”
We could hear rustling around on the other end of the line and what sounded like the tapping of keys. “Vorn, Lemme think.” Hank paused for a moment. “Didn’t he murder a string of women and leave them hanging upside down in a meat market?”
What the hell? This guy’s Chris’s source? I tried to keep my face impassive.
“Nah, that’s not the guy,” Hank retracted. “That guy’s in prison. Has been for ten years or longer.”
Chris sat forward with his elbows on the desk. “He’s the owner of a strip club called—what was it?” He snapped his fingers. “Sinner’s Lounge?”
“Wait. Hang on, that name, Vorn, yeah, it does ring a bell, but it’s not good. Isn’t that the guy they call the King of Staten Island? Heard he likes to bathe in the blood of his enemies or some shit. They say he’s deadly. Apparently, he never smiles and he’s ruthless, cold-blooded, but there wasn’t much news about him other than that.”
“Thanks, Hank.”
“Sure, no problem.”
Chris ended the call and turned his attention back to me. “Looks like you don’t need to get in his line of sight. I sure as hell wouldn’t.” He ran a hand down his face and shook his head. “And that’s a big accusation. You better have the facts to back it up.”
Now was my chance. “That’s where my plan comes into play. I propose that I go in undercover as a waitress and gather all the info that way. Not necessarily on Vorn, although I do think that would help, but on the gang itself. I want to prove that they’re still up and running. That they didn’t just go silently into the night like everybody seems to think they have.”
Chris snorted. “That’s it? You think it’s going to be that easy?”