Chapter 12 A Name And A Reckoning
ELENA
I pushed the door open to the not-so-brightly-lit bar as my eyes scanned the room with practiced caution. The familiar smell of stale beer and the faint smell of tobacco floated around in the air as it wrapped around me like a suffocating veil. I cleared my throat as my eyes scanned the place. The bar was nearly empty except for some patrons who still lazily nursed their drinks while they sat alone, probably lost in their thoughts. The typical lifestyle of New Yorkers who were back from work and didn't want to go home. Yet.
I was already familiar with these kinds of people. I'd had to drag them out of the bar whenever I had a shift at the bar I worked at. It was always the same thing. They pass out while drinking, and the bar waiters and waitresses have to put their shit together.
I rolled my eyes as I chose to look away from the bar patrons while focusing on my mission. In the corner of the bar sat my informant. I spotted him before he spotted me. His grizzled face was partially obscured by the brim of a faded blue-looking cap, which he wore to stop onlookers from fishing him out in the crowd. He was nursing a can of beer when I saw that the aluminum caught the not-so-bright light of the overhead lamp in the bar.
I let out a breath as I adjusted the strap of my handbag before I walked purposefully toward him. My heels clicked softly against the worn-out wooden floor as I approached him. When I got to where he was, I pulled out the chair opposite him and sat in front of him. I placed my bag on the table with my eyes locked onto his. He glanced up at me and recognized me immediately. He frowned.
"You're late," the man said in a gruff voice as he placed his can of beer down with a thud.
"I had other matters to deal with," I replied in a curt voice. "Let's get to the point," I said in a low voice as I glanced around the room and adjusted my seat.
The man reached into his inner jacket and brought a brown file, which he slid across the table towards me. I eyed the file as my fingers itched. This held the answers to all of my questions about my father. Or so I thought. Just as my fingers were about to reach for the file, the man placed his hand over the file to stop my movement. I looked up, and my eyes met his.
"Not so fast," he said in a low and steady voice. "Payment first," he said with a snap of his finger to indicate that he meant money.
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at his attitude. I let out another sigh as I dug into my bag and pulled out a thick wad of cash, which I placed on the table in front of him.
I watched as his eyes almost bulged from their sockets when he saw the money before he took it and went ahead to count it slowly.
I saw the way his rough fingers flicked through the clean and minty notes one by one. Finally satisfied with the amount he saw, he removed his hand from the file and allowed me to take it.
My hands trembled slightly as I grabbed the file and tore it open. I eagerly flipped through its contents with equally shaking hands. This was it, I thought. Inside the file was a single white sheet of paper. Just the white sheet of paper. I held up the paper, and my eyes scanned the page. My breath caught in my throat when I finally saw the name written in bold black letters.
John West.
My heart beat heavily in my chest as I whispered the name aloud, but loud enough for him to hear me.
"Who is he?" I demanded as my eager eyes snapped to meet the informant's eyes.
The man leaned back as he took another chug of his beer before he spoke.
"John West," He repeated the name as he stretched lazily like a cat.
"West worked closely with your father before things........ well, went south. He was the man pulling all the strings behind the scenes, as part of his job was to make sure that your father took the fall for all their dirty business. If you're looking for answers, he's your guy," he explained to me as he watched me.
I clenched my fists around the file as I angrily bit my lip. For years, I had chased after ghosts as every lead I thought I was following had, one way or the other, turned into a dead end.
I had dedicated my time and resources to this, and now answers were finally coming.
I finally had a name—this was a tangible lead. On the things I knew I was going to do to the man when I caught up with him.
I couldn't even say them yet. When the time comes, I will take revenge on all of them.
"Where can I find him?" I asked him angrily as I gritted my teeth. It was all I could do to control myself and not tear the paper into pieces.
The informant let out a cruel smirk.
"Not so fast." He said to me. "That'll cost you extra, you know. Information like that doesn't come cheap, sweetheart," he said with a smile.
I let out an eye roll. I thought I had given him a huge amount of money already. Why was he demanding more to reveal the details to me further? This had been all my savings from my two jobs at the bar and the hospital. I eyed him angrily, and before I could think of a retort, my phone buzzed in my pocket and momentarily distracted me. I pulled the phone out, glanced at the screen, and saw Alexander's name flashing.
Why was he calling me? I wondered.