Blood Ties

by Shaun Sinclair

  So, Leader had killed his father. Even though Justus had never met his father—or couldn’t recall anyway—it still felt funny, knowing someone had extinguished the source of his lineage. Justus couldn’t help but think of the irony of his killing Jock over Nikki, and Leader killing Ralo, because of his mother. Guess the fruit didn’t fall far from the tree. Only difference was, Leader had actually killed his father.

  Justus was depressed that night as he laid in bed. He hadn’t even eaten dinner. He had no appetite. He just couldn’t get the situation off his mind. It seemed everywhere he turned, death met him head-on. Leader killed his father then replaced him with himself. Just as he did Jock with Diamond, except Nikki helped him indirectly. So, what was Glenda’s role in all of this? She allowed him to believe Leader was his father all these years. What did she know about this? Justus was confused, but he knew Glenda held more pieces to the puzzle. To what puzzle, he didn’t know. All he knew was he’d know when he found it.

  First he had to talk to Glenda.

  Chapter 30

  Glenda was done sulking. It had been weeks since she heard from her husband and frankly, she missed him. Moreover, she needed him. So many explosions were going off in her life, what with Justus bring locked up, charged with murder. Gloria had told her Justus found about the “secret,” and Keisha was having sex. Just last night Glenda had found a condom in Keisha’s trash can inside her room. Glenda was so furious she sent Keisha away with Gloria.

  Now Glenda was all by herself, lost in thought. As she waited for her bath water to finish running, she scurried around in her silk robe getting elements together for her sensual bath. Candles? Check. Roses? Check. Floetry CD? Check.

  Just as she was going upstairs, the doorbell rang. Glenda didn’t have the slightest idea who it could be at this time of day. No one ever called or came by after six p.m. Weekends were her time. Glenda glanced at the clock on the wall on her way to the door. This better be good, she thought. It was 7:50 p.m.

  Looking through the peephole, she saw a black uniform. Her knees got weak instantly. She prayed Leader was okay as she snatched the door open. A very attractive female greeted Glenda. Even with the uniform on this woman was stunning . . . and vaguely familiar.

  “Glenda Moore?” The officer asked.

  “Yes,” she answered. Then it struck her where she recognized the woman from. Leader’s pictures! Unfortunately, it was too late. Carmen sprayed something in Glenda’s face, causing her to collapse on the threshold.

  * * *

  Leader looked around the spacious cabin of the truck he drove, imagining a million different ways to stuff Carmen’s body inside safely without notice. He was currently on I-95, consuming highway at a rapid pace en route back to N.C. The words on Carmen’s note rang prolifically in his head. “See you in N.C.”

  He didn’t know how Carmen knew he would find her home. Then again, he did. Carmen was just as skilled an assassin as he was. Maybe she wanted him to find her lair, so she’d have time to do what she wanted to do. Only question was, what did she want to do? His first thought went to Glenda, but he immediately dismissed the thought, since Justus was there. Justus would never allow anyone to harm his mother. That, Leader was willing to bet his life on. Leader never contacted Justus while he was gone, partly because his communication devices were left back home, and mostly because he wanted his indiscretions to be forgiven. As he had told Justus time and again: A real man doesn’t make excuses, he makes results. Surely, Justus had seen the damage he had done to Glenda’s face by now. And surely Justus would be pissed by the affair he’d had, but by Leader killing his paramour, he intended to show them that she meant nothing to him. More importantly, he could guarantee it wouldn’t happen again. Thus saving his family and regaining face . . . By doing so, he knew Glenda would forgive him . . . Eventually Justus would understand also. After all, Justus did kill his woman’s baby’s father for the same reason: to prevent future affairs from happening. Leader felt Carmen was stupid for coming into his domain. She was making things easy. Or so he thought. He didn’t know she brought nothing but difficulty.

  * * *

  The room was dark and quiet. Those were the first things Glenda noticed as she slowly glided back into the world of the living. The next thing she noticed were her bound limbs. She couldn’t remember much. Oh yea! The woman from the pictures. She had come into her home. Something about a police uniform also reverberated in her brain. Oh yes! That was why she opened the door. She thought something had happened to Leader.

  “Wake up, Sunshine,” a voice sang from the darkness. “Are you awake?” After a blinding light had been turned on, Glenda realized she was in her basement. Bound. Gagged. And suddenly terrified.

  The woman, whose name she recalled was Carmen had changed from her policewoman get-up and now wore a black Lycra pantsuit. The material clung to her every curve accentuating her wide hips, curvy bottom, and ample bosom. Glenda could even see a six-pack pumping through the suit. As beautiful as Glenda had to admit Carmen was, any sex appeal the outfit would have exuded was eclipsed by the calf-high combat boots she wore. The boots along with the black leather gloves and balaclava she wore over her head made Carmen anything but sexy. She looked downright terrifying.

  “Do you know who I am?” Carmen sang, bending down to look Glenda, who sat in a high-backed chair, eye-to-eye. “Oops, I forgot! You can’t talk” Carmen removed the gag from Glenda’s mouth. “Now speak.” She smiled.

  Glenda coughed,” I know who you are b-bitch.” She sputtered, remaining defiant under pressure.

  “You’re Carmen.”

  “Ahh, that’s where you’re wrong.” Carmen raised her index finger in protest. “Carmen was your husband’s mother.”

  “I know that, bitch.” Where was this going?

  “Do you?” Carmen chuckled then allowed silence to permeate the air. “What else don’t you know?”

  “Quit the games. If you’re not Carmen, who are you?

  “I am the product of a broken heart! The result of grief. Of murder. A widow. But most of all, I am everything your husband forced me to be ten years ago.”

  Glenda was beginning to lose hope. The woman in front of her had obviously flipped. Glenda didn’t know how long she had been tied up, but she knew someone had to realize she was missing. Someone had to come over soon. Maybe even Leader. Until then, she had to stall this lunatic.

  “Woman, what are you talking about? You couldn’t have known my husband ten years ago.”

  “Oh? Allow me to explain.” Carmen turned her back to Glenda, looking far-off into space, and began talking.

  “My real name is Chantell Sims. I was a young bride married to my college sweetheart ten years ago. My husband, Antwann, owned his own business. A pharmaceutical firm. He was only twenty-one years old when he started the firm. You see, he was somewhat of a prodigy, wanted by all the top pharmaceutical firms, heavily courted. But he chose to go into business for himself. For us. Black Enterprise magazine even called him one of America’s Top Minority Businessmen,” she offered a sentimental smile. “I didn’t know his seed money was a loan from the Nigerian mafia. But your husband made that fact all too real.

  “One night, as we lay in bed, an intruder entered our home. We had top-notch security systems but none of them were alerted. We didn’t know someone was in our home until a man stood over our bed, pointing an assault rifle at my husband’s head . . .” Glenda could tell “Carmen,” or Chantell Sims, was reliving the moment. Her voice trailed off more and more with each syllable. “Your husband pulled that trigger as easy as blinking an eye. Snuffed out my husband’s life. Snuffed out my life. I was pregnant with our first child. Six months. Needless to say, after seeing my husband’s brain on our pillow. I went into shock. The doctor’s heroics weren’t enough to save our child. I wasn’t able to attend my own husband’s funeral, because I wasn’t strong enough into be released from the hospital.

  “All I could think about in the hospital was revenge
. I didn’t know the first thing about violence.” She chuckled at the thought of how far she had come. “But it’s amazing what you can train your body to do.”

  Carmen turned around to face Glenda while she told the rest of her story.

  “The police couldn’t gather any leads and ruled it as another of the many Chicago homicides, but I knew better. Someone had sent death to my husband. So, using my skills as a P.I., I stumbled upon a far-reaching network of professional assassins. It didn’t take long to figure out that only way to find my husband’s killer was to become a part of this close-knit network. I originally was just going to “fake-the-funk,” but the guy who plugged me in said I had to complete a job to gain trust. So, I had to complete a job to gain trust. So, I did . . . And to be honest, it felt good. It felt empowering. I mean, you hear people, like strippers and what not, saying that doing what they do feels empowering. Like, we all know it’s immoral, so what’s so empowering, right? Well, now I understand what they mean. Whether illegal or not, nothing—NOTHING—feels more powerful than taking a human life. I mean, that instant. POW!” Chantell-Carmen Sims snapped her fingers. “You’re like god.”

  In the pregnant pause that ensued, Glenda wondered why this woman was revealing so much. Glenda didn’t want to empathize with her. She’d fucked her husband then invaded their home with ill intent. Still, Glenda couldn’t help but feel Carmen’s plight.

  Carmen continued, “Anyway, as luck would have it, your husband turned out to be a legend in the trade. Untouchable. A ghost. His works were well-known, but he was a myth. It took me ten years to track him down. Ten years . . . but I did it. Unfortunately, no one informed me how handsome he was. When I finally did meet him, I didn’t want to shoot him anymore. I wanted to fuck him to death. So, I did, and believe me, it was everything I imagined, as I’m sure you know already.”

  Glenda fought to escape her restraints.

  “You bitch!!” She spat.

  Carmen waved her hand., “Oh please. Cut the dramatics. You’ll never feel him again. I told you everything I did so you’ll know why you’re dying. See, the world isn’t big enough for the both of us, so since I’m with child, you have to go.”

  * * *

  The messages repeated the same news again and again. Leader couldn’t believe his eyes. Justus arrested for murder, denied bond. The messages were almost two weeks old. That meant Glenda was all alone.

  Leader hadn’t been in town a good thirty minutes before finding things out. He had stopped by his secret apartment to retrieve some items to defend his home base if Carmen showed up. Now, with the knowledge he possessed, there was a sense of urgency getting home.

  When he arrived home, he found Glenda’s Jaguar parked in the driveway. This was good. She usually was home in bed at this time of night anyway. At 11:30 p.m., Glenda was sure to be in bed. Leader parked his car and went inside. Immediately his instincts went off. Something was not right. He couldn’t put his finger on it but he knew something wasn’t right. Drawing his .45, Leader closed his eyes, allowing his other senses to magnify, and crept through the house. Checking all bedrooms, he saw no sign of Glenda. Then, ever so faintly, he heard a voice murmuring in the basement. He could hear the agony present in the distant pleas, so he ran cautiously to the stairs. It was there he discovered a semi-automatic pistol lying precariously on the top step. He scooped it up without a second thought, checked the pipe. It was empty so he stuffed it in his waistband, and continued on.

  Leader paused at the basement door momentarily until he heard Glenda’s agonizing moans. He kicked the door off the hinges, cleared the dark room with his weapon, before cutting on the light. What awaited him wrenched his heart from his chest.

  Glenda was lying face-down in a pool of blood. Even from twenty feet away, Leader could see the gaping hole in the back of her head. It wasn’t a bullet wound, it looked more sinister, as if someone had literally torn a chunk out of her skull. Miraculously, she was still alive.

  Leader rushed to his wife’s side. Turning her over, he saw that it was probably a matter of time before she checked out. Her eyes possessed a far-off stare, her face was already beginning to ashen. Then suddenly recognition: Glenda’s eyes returned to the land of the living.

  “C-Carmen wa-was h-here,” Glenda wheezed. Leader cradled her head in his lap.

  “Baby hold on,” He pleaded.

  “NO!” She managed forcefully. “You must g-go,” she continued. Glenda said something else, but Leader couldn’t decipher the words.

  Glenda dug deep, gathering all her remaining life, and barked, “Go! She set you up!”

  It was then that Leader heard the sirens. He was upstairs, yanking the front door open, when it dawned on him what Glenda meant. So much for help.

  “Freeze!!! Drop your weapon and surrender!” Leader didn’t realize he still held his pistol in his hand, until the police’s spotlight illuminated it.

  “Backup is on the way! You’ll never make it out alive! Surrender now!!”

  Leader summed up his situation quickly knowing time was of the essence. He then made his decision.

  Pop! Pop! Leader licked two shots at the cops before slamming the front door shut. Seconds later, a volley of shots rained in through the front door. Leader continued to low-crawl through the house towards the back door. He ensured the cops weren’t in back waiting for him. When he saw that the coast was clear, he peeled through the back door and tore off through the backyard.

  Chapter 31

  Justus did his last rep of push-ups, then pushed up from the floor with power. Yes, even in jail he had to stay in shape. Today, however, he did his routine with extra sauce, for today was a good day indeed.

  He was going home.

  After almost three long weeks of confinement, Justus was being released on bond. It took a lot of finagling (and of course money) but Shabazz, the lawyer he had retained, had finally pulled his coup. Even though defendants charged with capital crimes weren’t guaranteed bail due to the severity of the offense, with the right amount of money put into the right hands, things weren’t too hard to obtain. In this case, freedom. Justus was finally convinced Leader was yet right again! American was about two things: The haves and have-nots. And most of the time the haves luxuriated on the blood, sweat and tears of the have nots.

  Getting dressed, Justus went outside his cell to wait for the breakfast trays. He wanted to say his good-byes to Top, and see if there was something he could do to assist him with his situation. After all, Top had given him something no one—including Leader—ever had given him: the truth. For that, Justus felt indebted to him.

  While Justus waited, his thoughts drifted to Leader. He couldn’t understand why Leader had abandoned him. Surely, Leader knew of his plight, what with the media coverage and all. Justus was finding it hard to deter the bitterness beginning to form in his heart.

  Justus decided to watch some television to pass the time. On his way to the corner, he saw that the dude called Knowledge was holding the tube hostage with the news. It was futile to ever argue. Knowledge always watched the news. Everyone in the pod knew.

  Justus sat idly, catching up on current events in the world, when to his surprise, his house appeared on the screen. Well, his parent’s house.

  “Yo, turn that up!”

  Knowledge complied while looking at Justus skeptically. The news reporter was motioning toward the house while repeating her earlier statements:

  Police are still searching for the man believed to have killed his wife by bashing her head with an automatic pistol. The pistol was found on the scene.

  According to police the suspect dropped it while fleeing from them . . .

  A middle-aged balding white man came onscreen to say a few words. He was introduced as Captain Taggert. The reporter asked him for a brief account.

  Uh, after we received a tip from an anonymous caller about an intense domestic dispute, officers responded to the scene just as the suspect was leaving. The officers attempted to apprehen
d the suspect, but he fired on them.

  The officers returned fire. The suspect fled through the house and got away.

  Upon entering the house officers discovered the body of a woman in the basement. There was too much blood to positively I.D., initially.

  We now have her name. She was the woman who lived in the house. Glenda Moore, the suspect’s wife . . .

  A beautiful picture of Glenda flashed across the screen.

  “Nooooo!!!!!” Justus’s primal scream echoed throughout the cell block when he saw his mother’s picture. He began pounding the table emphatically, screaming louder and louder. The guards rushed in to detain him.

  Ironically, it was at that exact point that he made bail.

  “Moore! Bag and Baggage.”

  Chapter 32

  Glenda was laid to rest in a beautiful ceremony three days after Justus’s release. Family from all over the nation came to say their good-byes. Glenda was well-loved, and even more respected. Her sister Gloria took it hardest. First, her son Pug. Then her sister. Justus offered her his shoulder, but not much else. His mind was 99% focused on Leader.

  As yet, Leader still hadn’t shown his face, all but convicting himself. In Justus’s eyes, he was already guilty, and just as he played judge, jury, and executioner to that kidnapper that fateful night years ago, he planned on doing the same to Leader when he found him.

  The police were scattered about the funeral, hoping to catch sight of Leader. They didn’t really believe the murderer would show up at the funeral, but stranger things have happened.

  As Reverend Butkus Bucks delivered a gut-wrenching eulogy, an oversized black woman wearing black, with a charcoal-colored wide-brimmed hat, complete with a veil, listened intently while constantly observing her surroundings through the veil.

  At least that’s what the world saw. Leader had snuck in with the first wave of mourners and taken his seat. Since then he hadn’t moved. He observed the numerous undercover officers file in and take their places. No doubt they were looking for him. He observed Justus and his family enter the church, grieving. Justus was remaining strong in appearance, but Leader could read his body language and see he was hurting. He wanted so bad to console his son, but by the way Justus scrutinized every mourner, he knew Justus believed the hype being splattered across T.V.’s statewide. Justus thought Leader was guilty also. As much as he wanted to vindicate himself, now was not the time. Too many emotions. However, Leader did leave a memento in Justus’s home to send him a message just in case he wanted to get stupid and play vigilante. He was innocent, of this crime anyway. Yet he knew all too well: perception is reality. Therefore, he planned on distancing himself until he could create a better perception. Leader noticed the procession to view the body had commenced. This was his cue to move. He had no inclination to see his wife in a box with bad makeup on. He wanted to remember her the way she was. Beautiful.