“I can’t speak for the others,” Mitch said. “But I’m going with the crack whore.”
“She’s crazy,” Calvin insisted. “If you believe her, you’re just as crazy as she is.”
“Look me in the eye,” Jamella said to him pleadingly, her eyes huge and shiny. “Look me in the eye and say it isn’t so.”
Calvin looked his older daughter right in the eye and said, “It isn’t so, girl, I swear. Chantal’s just trying to get rid of me. She’s never liked me being around here with y’all. You know that.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Chantal begged Jamella. “He’s lying to you. I’m the one speaking the truth. I saw what I saw.”
“What did you see, Mrs. Grantham?” Yolie asked.
“The two of them together in Glen Cove-maybe five, six weeks ago. Everyone else had gone out on Da Beast for the afternoon. Me, I don’t like that boat. Get seasick soon as I’m out on the water. So I didn’t go. And Kinitra stayed behind to work on her music. So did Calvin, who said he wanted to take himself a nap. I-I was walking down the hallway, minding my own business, when I heard a little cry coming from the den. Looked in and he had her cornered in there. His pants was down around his ankles and h-he was making her do him from down on her knees. I let out a scream. Poor Kinitra went running to her room, crying her eyes out. And this thug zipped up his pants, yanked a huge knife from his back pocket and held it right to my throat. He said he’d kill me if I ever breathed one word about it to you, Jamella. Sneak into my room while I slept and slit my throat ear to ear. I-I didn’t doubt for one second he’d do it either. That man is pure thug. I know he’s your daddy and you love him, but he would have killed me. So I-I couldn’t tell you.”
“Moms, why didn’t you tell me?” Tyrone demanded to know.
Chantal heaved her chest. “I was afraid for you. You already got so much trouble in your life. You don’t need no more. I was doing what I should have done for you when you were young-except I was too messed up back then. I was protecting you, understand? Your little brother, too.”
Rondell peered at her, mystified. “How were you protecting me?”
“I know how you feel about that girl. I-I didn’t want you finding out such a horrible thing about her. Maybe I was wrong to keep quiet. Maybe I should have let Calvin slit my throat in the night. Maybe that was the Lord’s plan for me and I was just too blind to see. I’ve prayed on it long and hard, night after night. You can’t imagine how hard I’ve prayed. But I still don’t know the answer. I don’t. I-I just…” She broke down and sobbed.
“It’s okay, Moms.” Tyrone said down beside her and hugged her gently. “Hey, it’s okay.”
Little Rondell was so upset he couldn’t sit still. Jumped to his feet and paced his way around the entire room, shaking his head, before he returned to the seating area and came to a halt in front of Calvin. “ You got her pregnant,” he said hoarsely. “You forced yourself on your own daughter.”
Calvin crossed his arms in front of his chest defiantly. “Your mama’s lying to you, boy. Wasn’t me.”
“It was him, little man,” Chantal cried. “I swear it. And I’m so sorry I didn’t speak up, Jamella.”
“And yet you gave Mitch that message for me today,” Des pointed out. “Why, Chantal?”
“Because that poor girl tried to take her own life, that’s why. Hers and her baby’s. There is no greater sin than that.”
Tears were spilling out of Jamella’s eyes and streaming down her chiseled cheekbones. “If what you say is true…”
“Oh, it’s true,” Chantal swore.
“Why didn’t she come to me? I’m her big sister. I’d do anything for her. I-I don’t understand.”
“I think I do,” said Des, who’d seen this sort of thing happen before. Too damned many times. “She didn’t come to you because she’s been blaming herself for what’s been going on. Plus she’s humiliated, ashamed and really, really frightened.” Des looked over at Calvin. “But not nearly as frightened as you. You panicked when Kinitra was admitted to the hospital, didn’t you? Especially after you found out she didn’t want you to visit her.”
Calvin reached for his beer can and took a swig. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, sounding a bit less sure of himself now.
“Sure you do, Calvin,” Des went on. “You had to know that the doctors would discover she was pregnant. You also had to know that once she was tucked away safe and snug, talking to the law about her situation, she’d eventually summon up enough courage to bring the hammer down on you. So when Tyrone went out for that ice cream, you cooked up a scheme on the fly. He said he’d be gone for a while, felt like clearing his head. The timing couldn’t have been more ideal. The second he walked out the door you called Andrea Halperin on her cell and told her to meet you at White Sand Beach. Then you snatched Tyrone’s Glock from his nightstand, hightailed it there on foot and shot her and Stewart Plotka, figuring if you framed Tyrone for their murders that Kinitra’s rape would land on him, too.”
“That makes perfect sense, Master Sergeant,” Mitch said slowly. “Except I have a mighty huge icebox question for you.”
“What’s an icebox question, Loo?” Toni asked.
“It’s some weird Hitchcock old movie thing,” Yolie replied. “Trust me, don’t go there.”
Des stared at him. When Mitch had an icebox question, he was not kidding around. “Okay, lay it on me…”
“How did Calvin know Andrea Halperin’s cell number?”
“I ain’t saying nothing,” Calvin grumbled in response.
“Yes, you are,” said Rondell, who in the blink of an eye no longer stood facing Calvin. He stood behind him holding a Glock 19 to Calvin’s head-a Glock 19 that he’d whipped out of the rear waistband of his slacks. He’d had it hidden under that damned Hawaiian shirt. And made his play so fast that not one of them had a chance to react. Not Des. Not Yolie. Not the Deacon. Not Toni.
And for damned sure not Calvin, who sat there frozen and wide-eyed.
“Don’t anybody move!” Rondell warned them. “Keep your weapons holstered or I swear I will blow his brains all over this beautiful white sofa!”
“Whatever you say, Rondell.” Yolie’s voice was calm and quiet. “Just take it easy.”
“I’m taking it easy!”
“Then why don’t you put that gun down?” Des suggested. “Let’s not make this situation any worse.”
“She’s right, little brother,” Tyrone said. “Put that thing away. This ain’t your style.”
“My style?” Rondell shoved the Glock’s nose harder against Calvin’s head, the gun trembling in his hand. “My style is to treat a fine young lady like Miss Kinitra Jameson with respect. And just look where that got me, will you?”
“Is that your brother’s Glock?” Des asked him. She wanted to keep him talking. Maybe cool his jets a little.
“No, it’s my Glock,” he answered angrily. “I keep it in my desk at all times in case some nut like Stewart Plotka tries to go after him. You people made sure you asked Clarence if he kept a weapon in the house. But not one of you thought to ask me -because you think I’m a-a helpless little wonk. A weakling. You all think that.”
“That’s not true,” Jamella said, as he continued to hold that Glock to her father’s head. “I think you’ve got a whole lot to offer. You’re smart. You’re compassionate. I’ve always said that.”
Tyrone nodded his head. “That’s right, she has. Let the police handle this, little brother. Stop and think, will you? What in the hell are you doing?”
“I’m taking care of myself.” Beads of sweat had formed on Rondell’s forehead. He was so overheated his glasses were practically fogging up. “That’s what you always told me a man does, right? Well, I’ve got some news for you. All of you. I’m a man. And I can take care of myself just fine.”
“Sure you can, son,” the Deacon said. “No one in this room doubts that for one second. But what’s important right now is for you to put that gun down and let the law take over.”
Rondell shook his head. “No, sir. I’m sorry, but this is a family matter. And I’m in charge now. So y-you answer the question, Calvin. Answer it right goddamned now.”