The Exotic Virtue only sat a few blocks away from the church, so it didn’t take him long to get there. Terrance waited in the foyer, eyebrows furrowed together in concern.
“What’s wrong?” Rourke asked immediately.
“Uh, you’re not going to like what I have to tell you.”
Rourke inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and then opened them again. “Tell me anyway.”
“We had an overdose,” Terrance said quietly.
Fuck!The word sat on the tip of his tongue, but he held it in. He glanced at Sam, who nodded solemnly. “Who?”
His first thought wasnot Forrest, please not Forrest, which was stupid because as far as Rourke knew, Forrest never took drugs. Yet, when people get into this business, they did a lot of things they hadn’t done before. Rourke learned that when he first arrived. Whores who came from religious backgrounds, sweet and kind, turn into bitches who fought over clients. One of the whores, Casey, was firmly anti-alcohol after his brother died from a drunk driver, but then he started drinking and became an alcoholic. Rourke and Terrance sent him to rehab.
Terrance scratched the back of his neck. “Heaven.”
“Fuck.” The curse word slipped out and Rourke didn’t even care. “Where is she?”
“Come on.” Terrance led him up the stairs and down the hallway toward Heaven’s rooms. A crowd of whores stood around the door, huddled together as they tried to see what had happened. Forrest was among them and he looked heartbroken, his face crinkled in sadness. They scattered when they saw Rourke and Terrance. Forrest turned his sad eyes on Rourke, and it hit Rourke right in the chest.
Rourke walked into the room and stopped two steps in. Heaven, a beautiful female with a waterfall of blonde curls, lay awkwardly on the floor, her body twisted in an unnatural way. She had on baby-doll underwear, the baby blue set she loved to wear for clients. A needle stuck out of her arm, and her wide and very dead eyes stared at Rourke.
“Fuck,” Rourke repeated, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “How the fuck did she get it into the Virtue?” He spun on Terrance, rage swelling low in his gut. “Tell me how the fuck she got it.”
“We don’t know,” Terrance answered quickly, his face going red with embarrassment. “I swear, we don’t.”
“You should know, you’re managing this place!” In the back of his mind, Rourke knew he was taking his frustration out on the wrong person, but anger and fatigue ripped through him and he couldn’t stop. He’d worked damned hard to make this place clean. “Guards are supposed to follow them at all times when they go out, and they’re meant to check all clients’ personal items when they arrive. How did this get past our security?”
Terrance shook his head. “I don’t know, Rourke. We only just found her body.”
“Who found it?” Rourke hissed.
“I did,” Forrest said in a quiet voice from behind him.
Rourke spun toward Forrest and some of his anger dissipated when he saw those big sad eyes again. “Why did you come in her room?”
“I worried about her. When I went to get my next client I saw hers still waiting. She was half an hour behind and it was weird. Heaven’s never behind. So I came up here to see if she was all right. She didn’t answer and I thought… maybe a client hurt her, so I opened the door and found this. I got Terrance right away.”
Rourke touched Forrest’s shoulders. “You did good.”
Forrest’s stare dropped to the ground. “We called the last client she saw, and he said she was fine. He left on time, which meant she overdosed in that half an hour.”
“Who was the client?” Rourke asked.
Terrance unlocked his phone to check. “Mr. Sean Holden. He’s been to see her three times before. He’s reliable, no criminal record. Far as we know, no one has anything bad to say about him.”
Rourke laid his hands on his hips and looked at her again. After this, she definitely wasn’t going to heaven. “Okay. Roll the body in a tarp. I’ll call Conall to see what he wants done.”
Terrance flushed again, but that was easy with skin as pale as his. “I talked to Conall earlier. Him and the boss planned a lunch date.”
“I’ll call him. If Sloan is with him, he’ll want to know too. We’ll need to get rid of the body.”
“Doesn’t she deserve a funeral?” Forrest asked, his lips parted in surprise. “Everyone deserves that kind of peace.”
“Whores who OD don’t get that, Forrest. We can’t have the cops descending on this place. You know how it goes.”
“But—”
“There are no arguments here.” Rourke glanced at Terrance. “Get the guards and handle this.” Then he glanced around at the whores congregating in the doorway. “See this? This is what happens when you don’t follow my rules. You die and then get rolled up in a tarp and incinerated. Your family and friends will never know what happened to you. You will be nothing more than a whore that ODed. Don’t break my rules. Now get back to work!”
