Tangled Roots (24 page)

“But Carla was just a teenager, man. She came to me and told me she was pregnant by you. She threatened to drag you, Bonita, and the church through the mud. I covered for you, like always. I paid Carla child support and told her it was from you to keep her from going after you in court. I was trying to keep Bonita from finding out you’d fathered a child with another woman. She and Carla were pregnant at the same time and I was trying to save your marriage. I even tried to be a father figure to Joseph to make up for your neglect. I thought you’d learned your lesson. You and Bonita were getting along so well after Shanda was born. Then damned if you didn’t turn around and do the same thing again with Melvina Carmichael.”

Bonita let out an anguished moan and covered her ears like she couldn’t bear to hear one more word. Instead of going to comfort her, Rollins walked over to Inez, who clearly looked stunned, and put his arm around her. Surprisingly, she didn’t pull away, and Rollins continued.

“Once again I covered for you and paid support for Gina. I even encouraged Gina to join the choir so the two of you could get to know each other and maybe you would see what a special child she was in a way that wouldn’t ruin your marriage. I’ve been cleaning up your messes ever since we were kids, Rondell, and I’m not doing it anymore. You’re on your own now.” Rollins sat back down on the steps.

Rondell lowered the gun but he didn’t drop it or put it away. He rocked back and forth on his heels and looked nervously around the room. Bonita wouldn’t meet his gaze. She was too busy staring tearfully at Rollins, who was comforting Inez.

“Morris, man, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. All those women wanted to get next to you. They were just using me to get to you. And Carla Porter was a little tramp. I wasn’t the only one she was running around with. Her son could have been anybody’s. Melvina’s been in love with you for years. We started spending time together when she would hang around the church after services, trying to see you. None of them women meant a thing to me. I swear. You believe me, don’t you, baby?” he asked, turning pleading eyes to his wife. Bonita still wouldn’t look at him. Rondell fell to his knees and started rocking back and forth.

“Morris, I love you. I’d walk through fire for you. I helped you build Holy Cross and take it from just some wishful thinking to a reality. You have no idea what I’ve done for you and for Holy Cross, no idea. I always made sure you had whatever you needed for the church, didn’t I? Didn’t I!” he shouted when his brother wouldn’t look at or answer him. Rondell’s eyes had taken on a dazed, faraway look. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Suddenly it was all clear to me. All of the bills I’d seen in Rollins’s desk drawer for repairs and upkeep on Holy Cross. Joseph and Gina both being members of the church choir, thus having contact with Rondell, the organ player. Rollins had been in Detroit when Ricky had been killed, but so had Rondell. I mistakenly figured that Rollins had killed Ricky, Joseph, and Gina for the insurance money so he could support his lavish lifestyle. But, the money hadn’t been for luxuries. It had been for Holy Cross.

“My God! You killed them, didn’t you? Ricky, Joseph, and Gina. You killed them for the insurance money so Reverend Rollins could use the money for Holy Cross,” I said, as all eyes turned to Rondell.

Rollins slowly got up and walked over to his brother. “What did you do, Rondell? Did you hurt those kids? Man, tell me what you did.” Rollins was towering over Rondell’s kneeling figure.

“I did it for you. I did it for the church. They were no good, Morris. They were sinners. They needed to be punished.”

“Punished for what?” cried out Bonita. Rondell stood and faced his wife. He started to walk towards her, but she backed away from him in horror.

“Joseph showed me the way,” Rondell began, turning to the rest of us. I looked around the room at the disbelief frozen on everyone’s face. You could have heard a pin drop. It was as if everyone had forgotten to breathe.

“Morris was always after me to get to know that boy even though I knew I wasn’t the only one Carla had been with. But I decided I would try. That day at the barbecue I saw him walking off towards the beach. So I followed him. I was going to tell him I was his father. But when I got down to the beach I saw that he wasn’t alone. He was hugging and kissing some man. I couldn’t believe it. I knew then that he couldn’t be from my seed. When the other man left, I confronted him about his sinfulness. He started crying and saying he couldn’t help himself. He begged me not to tell on him. I dragged him over to the water and made him kneel at the water’s edge to pray with me. I dunked his head in the water to wash away his sins. He fought me, but I held on. But, then he stopped fighting. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

“Lord! God! Noooo!” screamed Bonita, lifting her arms heavenward.

“It was an accident,” Rondell said, sighing and rolling his eyes, like Joseph’s death had occurred in much the same way as a bug that had gotten accidentally stepped on.

“Then what did you do?” I ventured after a moment, since no one else seemed capable of speech. Bonita was still wailing and Rollins and Inez were hugging like they were afraid to let each other go.

“I took off his clothes and put him in the water so everyone would think he was swimming and drowned. Then a few weeks later that big life insurance check came for you, Morris. I found out you had a policy on Joseph because you were paying support for him. That money came just in time, didn’t it? The church needed a new roof when that tree fell on it during that big storm. The insurance company called it an act of God and wouldn’t cover the cost of a new one. We didn’t have enough from donations and you didn’t want to go to Jeanne’s parents again for the money. It was divine intervention,” he said. Rollins looked like he might be sick.

“What about Gina and Ricky?” I asked. Rondell walked over to me but I stood my ground. He still had the gun in his hand, pointed at the floor.

“Gina,” he said, shaking his head. “Now, that one really disappointed me. I thought she was a good girl. She was raised right but she still turned out wrong.”

Rondell’s face frowned up like he had a bad taste in his mouth. More than likely he was just tasting his own hatefulness. I hoped he’d choke on it.

“She was in charge of collecting the money when the choir had a car wash. I saw her putting every other dollar in her pocket. That money was for the church’s summer camp. Then a few days later she shows up at choir practice with a new pair of basketball shoes. I know she used that money she stole to buy them shoes. That was also around the time the church needed a new van and there was no money for it. We had elderly church members who depended on that van to take them to appointments, and to the grocery. I knew you had life insurance on Gina, too,” Rondell said, looking at Rollins, who looked away.

“And I knew she was allergic to bee stings. I saw her go over to her mother’s car to change out of those new shoes when she finished playing ball. So I went over to talk to her. I’d bought some bee venom at the health food store the day before and put it in a hypodermic needle. I was just looking for a chance to use it. When no one was watching, I grabbed her and injected her in the neck. Then she started gasping for air and clawing at her pocket. She pulled out her EpiPen, but I took it from her and she passed out. I poured the pop out in the backseat of the car and put a dead bee in her clothes. I put the EpiPen in Melvina’s purse while she was playing Bingo with the other church sisters. We got our new van a month later,” he said, looking smug and proud.

“You killed your own daughter so the church could have a new van?” Inez said incredulously.

“The only daughter I have is my angel, Shanda,” Rondell said, glaring at his niece.

“Shanda’s no angel, Rondell. She was dating a drug dealer right under your nose and she helped him set up an innocent man for Inez’s murder. She’s no better than anybody else and she’s looking at jail time,” I blurted out like a dummy. If I got out of this without a bullet in my ass I’d be damned lucky.

“Liar!” he yelled at me, making me cringe. He raised his fist to hit me and I couldn’t move. I put my hands up to shield myself but Inez jumped in front of me.

“It’s true, Uncle Rondell. Shanda’s been seeing my old boyfriend, Vaughn Castle. He’s a drug dealer and he was seeing Shanda to get back at me ’cause I dropped his ass.”

Rondell was huffing and puffing like a winded rhino. He backed away from us and turned towards his wife.

“Rondell, baby, put that gun down. Let’s go home so we can talk about this. Just put the gun down, okay?” Bonita walked slowly over to her husband. She was talking to him, but her eyes never left the gun in his hand.

“Everything I did, I did for the greater good. You believe me, don’t you, Bonita? I only took the lives of the unworthy. Their deaths served a greater purpose.”

“And did you kill my son, too?” asked Rollins. I saw his hands clench into fists and the muscles in his neck started popping. Rondell whirled around and grinned at Rollins.

“Now, you really need to thank me for that one, Morris. That boy was rotten to the core. He was selling drugs. I knew when we went to Detroit for the Midwest conference you’d go and see that boy. I followed you and watched him loud-talk you and treat you like crap in front of all his low-life friends. I watched them laugh at you. It was a disgrace. Then you left and I followed him around in my rental. I saw him selling that poison to people left and right. Some of them were just kids. I waited for my chance and then I saw him running after some poor guy. Yelling that he was going to kill him. So, I let the Lord work through me. I ran him down in the street just like the animal he was. And I couldn’t believe it when you got the biggest insurance payout for the most worthless child. That money helped our scholarship fund, didn’t it? We were able to send some kids to college. More good came out of that boy’s death than in all of his miserable life,” Rondell screamed.

“His name wasn’t ‘That Boy.’ It was Ricky. And he was my son, you bastard!” Rollins cried as he lunged at his brother.

Rollins and Rondell grappled like wrestlers. They both fell to the floor and rolled around, punching each other. Rondell seemed to have the upper hand and was alternating between punching his brother and hitting him with the butt of the gun. Bonita was flapping her arms and running in circles around the two of them, like a headless chicken, pleading for them to stop. Inez and I just stared at the brawling men while the nurse, who’d been silently taking everything in, ran for the cordless phone, which was sitting on the dining room table.

Rondell lurched to his feet, kicked his brother hard in the stomach, and pressed the barrel of the gun against Rollins’s forehead. Bonita let out a bloodcurdling scream and threw herself on top of her brother-in-law, shielding him from her husband. Rondell looked at his wife and started to sob.

“See, man? They all want you. It’s all about you.” He put the gun to his own temple.

After that, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Inez raised her arms and ran forward screaming, “Uncle Rondell! No!”

Morris grabbed Bonita and threw her off him in an attempt to get to his brother before he pulled the trigger. But it was too late. A loud explosion filled the room and I turned away, but not quickly enough to miss the gush of blood and brain that splattered the foyer. I was vaguely aware of the wail of rapidly approaching sirens as I vomited in a nearby planter.

“You know, Kendra, I never would have let your friend go to prison,” said Morris Rollins as we sat in his car parked in front of my duplex.

It was hours after Rondell’s suicide and Rollins had given me a lift home from the police station, where we’d all told and retold our stories to the police. As it turned out, the truth had come out just in time. Timmy had surrendered earlier that day. That was the reason I couldn’t reach Harmon and Mercer when I’d called. They were busy interrogating Timmy. Apparently, Timmy had been hiding in my landlady Mrs. Carson’s basement. The person I’d heard snoring the night I’d been in Mrs. Carson’s kitchen had been Timmy, and not her son, Stevie, which is how Timmy had known I’d been attacked by Vaughn. Mrs. Carson had told him.

When the police had pulled up in front of my duplex earlier that morning, it was because Mrs. Carson had urged him to turn himself in. She had known him since he was a kid and used to babysit him occasionally for Olivia. She convinced him that if he were really innocent, he’d be exonerated. I was glad the police hadn’t been there for me. But that didn’t keep me from feeling like a complete fool for doing a tuck and roll out the window and running like I stole something.

I didn’t respond to Rollins’s statement. I sat staring out the window. I didn’t trust myself to speak. I didn’t have any children so I didn’t know how I would have handled the situation if it had been me. But, thinking back on everything Timmy, Olivia, Inez, and I had been through the past couple of weeks, I was still angry.

“I hope one day you’ll believe me and forgive me,” he said softly, squeezing my hand.

“I’m not the one you need to be asking for forgiveness,” I said, pulling my hand out of his. I started to get out of the car but stopped and turned to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

He nodded.

“Why was your name listed as the father on Joseph’s and Gina’s death certificates?”

“Because I couldn’t stand the thought of those kids going to their graves fatherless. Rondell never did right by those kids when they were alive and he had no intention of doing so when they died. Joseph’s grandmother and Melvina were too distraught to deal with all the details when Joseph and Gina died. So I took care of everything for them, and I told the coroner I was their father. And in a lot of ways, I was. No one ever questioned it. They just figured I’d finally owned up to fathering them.”

“What did you mean when you said you’d been cleaning up after Rondell since you were kids?” I ventured.

“Rondell and I are half brothers. We had the same mother. Our mother had been madly in love with my father, so I was always her favorite. But, Rondell’s father was a real piece of work, a career criminal who abused her and was in and out of jail. He died in a bar fight. My mother took out all of her rage and hatred for him on Rondell. When Rondell would mess up, she’d really come down hard on him. So I took the blame whenever he screwed up because all I’d get was a lecture. Rondell got beat with whatever she could get her hands on. It was like she was afraid he’d turn out like his father and she was trying to beat the devil out of him. Even after we grew up, I never got out of the habit of covering for him. I guess I couldn’t protect him from himself, could I?”