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.”
“I should have known better, too,” Des said, glancing over at the Deacon. “You said something to me earlier today that should have set off alarm bells in my head. Only it didn’t-not until we were sitting down to dinner.”
The Deacon frowned at her. “What did I say?”
“That men don’t change. That they are who they are.” She looked back at Calvin. “You are a low-life street hustler who only looks out for himself-even when you’re living large in a waterfront mansion. You have no moral code and zero conscience. You helped yourself to your own daughter because you felt like it. And when things started to go south, you tried to push the blame off on the son-in-law who took you in. You’re sly and you’re devious, Calvin. But you’re not smart. The state can’t bring Tyrone to trial on the rape charge unless Kinitra swears out a criminal complaint against him. And she’d be compelled to give up a sample of her baby’s DNA-which would prove that you are the father, not Tyrone. There was no way in hell you were ever going to get away with this. Don’t you see?”
“Wasn’t thinking that far into the future,” Calvin grumbled. “I was strictly thinking survival. Get the other cat before he gets you. I’ve spent half my life in a cage. I live by the code that I learned there, thanks to y’all. You’re the ones put me in there. You made me the man I am today.”
“So these murders are our fault,” the Deacon said to him.
“Absolutely.”
Rondell’s finger tightened on the trigger. “And what about Kinitra?” he cried out, trembling with rage. “Whose fault is that?”
“I got me a likeness for the young girls. I ain’t proud about it. But it is what it is. And I take what I want. That’s what a man does. He don’t ask for permission. He takes.”
“She’s your own daughter, you filthy bastard!”
“Kinitra is one fine-looking young girl. And once my blood gets to boiling, there ain’t much I can do to stop myself. The good Lord knows that. He’s always testing me. Sometimes I fail.”
“You will die for this!” Rondell snarled.
“We all die,” Calvin said with a shrug.
“And we all know the truth now,” Des said. “You’ve forced it out of him, Rondell. Good job. Why don’t you let us take it from here? Just put that gun down. It’s over now.”
“It’s not over,” Rondell said with chilling certainty.
“You folks don’t have to worry yourselves none,” Calvin said, sneering at Rondell. “He don’t have the balls to pull that trigger. I can tell from a man’s eyes if he’s got ’em. This one’s just a little bitch.”
“You shut up!” Rondell screamed at him.
“Don’t do it, little brother,” Tyrone said pleadingly. “You’ll mess up your whole life.”
“I-I have no life,” Rondell sputtered at him. “Don’t you get it? I loved her. And he destroyed her. She’s gone!”