Page 93 of Cannon
I stared at Jupiter’s body as they zipped up the black bag, my vision blurring through tears I couldn’t hold back anymore. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not tonight. Not ever. VIP parties were supposed to be safe, controlled guest list, high-end clientele, security at every entrance. The kind of night where the money flowed easy and nobody got hurt.
But there she was. My best dancer. My hardest worker. Dead on my goddamn floor.
“Time of death approximately 11:47 PM,” one of the paramedics announced, his voice flat like he was reading a grocery list instead of marking the moment a twenty-eight-year-old mother stopped breathing.
Jupiter’s son. Fuck. Little Elias was only seven. What was I supposed to tell him? That his mama overdosed in the dressing room of my club while he was sleeping at his grandma’s house? That she wouldn’t be coming home to make him breakfast or take him to school or see him grow up?
I wiped my face roughly with the back of my hand, smearing what was left of my makeup. The cops were still milling around, taking statements from the last of my staff. The VIPs had clearedout the minute the ambulance arrived. Rich people are allergic to scandal as usual.
“Ms. Davenport?” The detective approached, notebook in hand. “I have a few more questions.”
I straightened my shoulders, pulling myself together. “Go ahead.”
“Any idea who might have supplied the drugs to your employee?”
“No.” My voice was steady despite the hurricane inside me. “I run a clean establishment. My dancers know drugs aren’t tolerated,” I lied. I was feeling guilty because I didn’t fight Smoke harder on him allowing his crew to sell drugs in my establishment.
“Yet one of them just died from an overdose on your premises.” His eyes were cold, judgmental.
“I had no idea she was using,” I insisted. That was the truth. I’d seen Jupiter take a shot here and there but didn’t know her to do coke like some of the other girls.
He scribbled something in his notebook. “Well she was a stripper. They aren’t exactly the most moral of creatures.”
I wanted to slap the knowing look off his face. He didn’t know Jupiter. Didn’t know how she’d fought her way back from rock bottom, how she’d worked double shifts to save for her son’s college fund and her spa, how she’d been my rock when the club was struggling.
“We’ll need to review your security footage,” he continued. “And I should inform you that your establishment will remain closed pending our investigation.”
“How long?” I asked, already calculating lost revenue, bills coming due, dancers who lived paycheck to paycheck.
“Could be days. Could be weeks.” He shrugged like it wasn’t my whole life hanging in the balance. “Depends what we find.”
I was about to argue when I spotted Cannon striding across the parking lot, his muscular frame cutting through the flashing lights like a shadow. Even in this nightmare, something inside me steadied at the sight of him. His mysterious eyes locked on mine, concern written across his face.
“What happened?” he asked, reaching my side.
“Jupiter,” I said, my voice cracking. “Died of an overdose.”
His jaw tightened as he watched the coroner’s van pull away, taking Jupiter with it. “Fuck.”
The detective cleared his throat. “And you are?”
“Cannon Price. Head of security.” His voice was cool, professional, giving nothing away about what he really was to me.
“Where were you when this happened, Mr. Price?”
“Day off. Got here as soon as Queen…Ms. Davenport called me.”
The detective’s eyes narrowed, darting between us. “We’ll need your statement too.”
“Whatever you need,” Cannon replied.
Twenty minutes later, the cops finally left, promising to be in touch tomorrow to review the security footage. The parking lot emptied until it was just Cannon and me standing under the harsh lights of Sylk Road’s neon sign.
“You okay?” he asked, his hand finding the small of my back.
I shook my head, unable to lie to him. “Not even close. I could get my liquor licenses revoked for this. This could be the end of Sylk Road.”
“Let’s check those cameras,” he said. “See if we can figure out who did this.”
