The Blood Red Indian Summer (26 page)

“And the blood?” Yolie asked him.

“Couldn’t say, miss. I was surprised to see it there myself when I got undressed. She must have scraped her elbows or knees on something. We got going pretty wild there.”

“You are a no good lying punk,” Chantal said in a voice that had turned ice cold. “You are lying right now just like you been lying all along.”

Calvin stared at her long and hard. “You shut your mouth, woman.”

“I
won’t
shut my mouth! I’ve been keeping quiet for too long. I’m all done keeping quiet. You are
evil
, Calvin Jameson. You have been raping that sweet young daughter of yours for months under my son’s roof and you belong
in eternal hell
!”

Jamella gasped. “Popsy, what is she?…”

“Don’t pay her no mind,” Calvin said dismissively. “The woman’s an old crack whore. You going to listen to her or to me?”

“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.”

Calvin gulped. “
Which
question?”

“Mitch’s ice chest question.”

“Actually, it’s an ice
box
question. The term dates back to when folks still owned…” Mitch broke off when he noticed Des’s warning glare. “But you can say it either way.”

“How did you get Andrea Halperin’s cell number?” she asked Calvin.

“She … gave me her business card at the store.” Calvin’s eyes shifted uneasily as Rondell pressed the Glock to his head. “In case I ever wanted to sell her some inside info to help her case.”

“And did you?”

“Naw, never.”

“Keep talking,” Rondell commanded him.

“About
what
?”

“What you did tonight, you sick bastard!”

“Okay, okay. I phoned that Miss Halperin, like the trooper said. Told her I might have some news to sell her. We agreed to meet in that parking lot at seven. I-I took Tyrone’s gun from his nightstand and hoofed it there, like the fellow said. Took that shortcut through the woods at the end of Sour Cherry.”

“How did you know about that path?” Mitch asked him.

“Cee mentioned it to me.”

“It’s true, I did,” Clarence said.

Rondell jabbed the Glock at him even harder. “Who made that hole in our fence?”

“It was me,” Calvin admitted. “I can appreciate Tyrone wanting his privacy and all. But I lived inside the wire for too many years. Don’t like to be fenced in. I need to roam—without some state trooper at the front gate knowing my business. So I took some wire cutters to the thing first night they put it in. Moseyed around the neighborhood and found me this fine white girl next door who likes to paint buck naked on the sun porch after dark.”

“Her name is Callie. Have you ever laid a hand on her?” Mitch demanded.

“No, sir. I looked, that’s all.”

“You met them at the White Sand Beach parking lot,” Yolie said. “Then what happened?”

Calvin let out a sigh. “I-I capped them, okay? Then I came straight home.”

“Where’s the weapon?” Yolie asked.

“Tossed it in the woods.”

“With your prints on it?”

“Naw, I wiped it clean. How stupid do you think I am?”

“Don’t know yet,” she replied. “Still getting there.”

Rondell took a ragged breath, the Glock shaking in his hand. “Was Trooper Mitry right? Did you kill those people to make it look like Tyrone was a cold-blooded murderer? A-And everyone would figure
he
raped Kinitra?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Calvin retorted. “Not a one of you believed him just now when he swore he was innocent. Not you, Jamella. Not you, Rondell. You
all
thought he did it. Hell, these police people were ready to take him away in cuffs until that crazy old man showed up with his mouthy friend.”

“He’s not crazy,” Mitch said indignantly. “And I’m not mouthy. I choose my words very carefully. Force of habit. The first magazine I ever worked for only gave me fifty words to dissect an entire movie. Why, I could barely even—”

Des said, “Mitch…”

He moved it along. “I simply like to get to the bottom of things. Like, for instance, how long have you been raping your own daughter, Calvin?”

“I never touched a hair on my beautiful Kinitra’s head.”

“Try again,” Mitch urged him. “And I’d be a bit more careful about how you answer. Rondell’s hand is getting kind of twitchy. Rondell, we’re making excellent progress here. Sure you don’t want to put that thing down and have a seat?”

“Positive,” he replied between gritted teeth.

Jamella’s shiny eyes searched her father’s face. “Is it true, Popsy? Did you … do those things to her?”

“Naw, girl,” Calvin said reassuringly. “You know me.”

She flared at him suddenly. “Yeah, I
know
you. I
know
that after I got to be twelve years old you started looking at me up, down and sideways, licking your chops. That’s why Mama threw you out, wasn’t it? Because
she
knew you.”

Tyrone began breathing in and out very hard. And that vein was throbbing in his forehead now. “Did he
ever
come near you?”

“No, never,” she replied. “Mama made sure he never got the chance. He was out of our lives for years. And he’s been nothing but decent since you invited him to move in with us. Sure, I’ve seen him flirting with the pretty young girls by the pool. But he never got out of line. He was strictly being playful. Chantal gets upset about him watching his porn. But there isn’t a man in America who doesn’t watch porn. He’s been a good father to Kinitra and me since he moved in. Or so I thought.” She glared at Calvin. “I should have known the real deal.”

“Which is
what
?” Rondell demanded, blinking at her.

“That I’m not Daddy’s little girl anymore,” Jamella said bitterly. “I’m Tyrone’s. Huge with his child. But Kinitra’s still young and sweet and innocent. So he went after
her
.” She glowered at her father accusingly. “You forced yourself on my baby sister. You’ve been forcing yourself on her ever since Tyrone was kind enough to give you a nice home with us. And
this
is how you repay him—by trying to make him out to be a murderer a-and rapist. I’m the fool here. I kept telling myself you’d turned over a new leaf. That you weren’t the same awful scum Mama said you were. I should have known better.”