Hell on Wheels

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  I’ve learned a lot since meeting and marrying Greg Stevens. I’ve learned to share and play better with others. I’ve learned to be more of a team player, which was difficult for me since I’d pretty much been on my own most of my life. I’ve learned to be less pig-headed and that compromise isn’t necessarily a dirty word. But some of the most valuable things I’ve learned are not to take everyday things for granted and that most any obstacle can be overcome.

  Mona stopped eating and turned to her husband. “Cory, tell them what you told the police.”

  Cory wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking. “It’s just that I saw them together right before Tanaka died.” He picked up his wine glass and took a sip. “It was during the break before the playoff game. I’d slipped out for a smoke.”

  “I didn’t know you smoked,” Greg said.

  Cory laughed a little. “I don’t as a rule, only when I get really nervous.”

  “He tends to smoke at the games,” added Mona.

  “Yeah,” Cory said. “Especially when it’s tense. That’s what I was doing when I saw Tanaka and Miranda before at the scrimmage. At the tournament I slipped out before the playoff game began to chain smoke.” He laughed.

  “I was outside then, too,” I said, “but didn’t see you.”

  “At first I didn’t stay near the building with the other smokers. I walked around the parking lot to wear off some of the tension. Later, right before the game started, I lit up a second one while in the smoking area.” Another short laugh. “I think I get more worked up over these games than Mona does.”

  “It’s true,” Mona agreed, shaking her head. “He takes them quite personally. You’d think it was him being battered on the court. He seldom smokes in the off-season.”

  My thoughts flashed back to Mona getting rammed hard by Tanaka and how Cory had nearly leapt onto the court after him. I could see how it would be difficult to stand by and watch a loved one being treated that way, even in a rough sport.

  “Anyway, I was walking through the parking lot, having my first smoke, when I saw Miranda coming out of Tanaka’s van. It wasn’t parked with the others close to the building, but on the far edge. Tanaka was with her and they seemed to be having an argument, but I couldn’t tell what it was about. I even ducked behind a couple of cars and tried to get closer, but I was afraid they’d see me.”

  He looked at Mona, and she nodded for him to continue. Cory took a deep breath, then added, “I saw her handing him a couple of sports bottles from inside his van.”

  Again my mind flashed back to that day. Tanaka was parked on the far side of the lot. I remember noticing him coming from that direction even before I’d met him. And he did have a couple of bottles in his lap when I collided with him. I’d forgotten that.

  “That would account for her fingerprints being on the water bottles,” noted Greg.

  “Is that why the police said she was a suspect?” asked Mona.

  “Yes,” Greg answered. “There was cyanide in the sports drink in at least one of those bottles, possibly all of them. That’s what killed Tanaka. Miranda’s prints were on them. A friend who’s a cop told us that. He didn’t say if there were any other prints besides hers.”

  “He’s not investigating Tanaka’s murder,” I clarified. “He lives up here but is a friend of Bill Martinez, the detective on the case. But our friend is investigating what happened to Rocky.”

  After a short pause during which Mona looked down at her plate, no doubt thinking of Rocky—her friend and team captain—she raised her head and asked, “So Miranda poisoned Tanaka?”

  “Well,” I answered, “her prints were on the water bottles with the poison, but that doesn’t mean she put the poison in the bottle.”

  “Still, it seems pretty incriminating,” said Cory.

  “Something has been bothering me,” I told them. “Wouldn’t the water or sports drink have been provided by the team and put in the drinking bottles in the gym? Greg’s basketball team supplies it when they have tournaments.”

  The other three looked around the table at each other as they thought about it. Mona spoke first. “It depends. The tournament does provide water and drinks, but many of us bring our favorites, and most of us bring our own sports bottles since they are easier for us to hold than a commercial bottle.”

  “So maybe Miranda didn’t put the cyanide into Tanaka’s drink,” I ventured. “It could have been someone else. Someone who might have filled his bottle at the game.”

  “You mean like his coach?” asked Cory.

  I shrugged. “I’m just saying someone else might have had an opportunity to slip the poison into his bottle.”

  Mona took a sip of her wine through the straw, her fine brows meeting in the middle as she gave it serious thought. “It doesn’t explain who killed Miranda,” she finally said. “It sounds to me like someone poisoned Peter Tanaka, then took out Miranda.”

  Greg speared a tomato from his salad bowl with his fork. “The police think she committed suicide but are still investigating. But if it was murder, any idea why?” He popped the tomato into his mouth and chewed while he waited for an answer.

  Cory and Mona exchanged glances, but it was Mona who spoke. “It was rumored Tanaka left Canada because of a drug charge.”

  “Even here,” Cory added, “it was starting to get around that Tanaka could get his hands on most anything anyone wanted, especially coke or weed.”

  “Did he have a regular job?” I asked, toying with my garlic bread.

  “Not that we ever heard,” answered Cory, “but we hardly knew him. Maybe selling drugs was how he supported himself.”

  “I know when he was living in the area before,” Greg said, “he was living off of a substantial insurance settlement he’d gotten from the accident that put him in the chair, along with some money his father had left him. As I recall, his family is quite well off.”

  “Tanaka wanted to play for the Lunatics again,” Mona explained, “but Coach and Rocky were dead set against it. Coach had heard about the drug stuff from a friend of his in Canada. He told the team about it in a meeting. Between that and Tanaka’s reputation for being a dirty player, most of us didn’t want him on the team.”

  I swallowed the lasagna in my mouth before speaking. “What about the Vipers—didn’t they care about Tanaka’s reputation?”

  Mona took another sip from her straw before answering. “The Vipers were struggling. They’d just lost a couple of key players. Rocky tried to warn their coach, but he needed to fill his roster.”

  Greg glanced at me, then at Cory and Mona. “Did Tanaka know that Rocky tried to get him banned from the Vipers, too?”

  Mona shook her head. “I don’t know, but probably. I mean, we all knew it, so I’m sure Tanaka got wind of it through someone.”

  “Was Tanaka close to any of the players on the Lunatics?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “When I started playing, Tanaka was already gone.”

  “I’ve seen him horsing around with Kevin Spelling,” Cory said, “but nothing that I’d call tight. When Tanaka came to the scrimmages, people were friendly enough but generally kept their distance.”

  Greg nodded and took a drink of wine. “I remember Tanaka and Kevin Spelling being close once upon a time.”

  “That makes sense,” Mona commented. “Kevin was one of the few players who wanted Tanaka back on the Lunatics.”

  “But he went after Kevin during the game just as viciously as he did Rocky,” I pointed out.

  “That’s part of the game,” Mona explained. “You don’t hold back on the court just because you’re friends off of it. We often play against some of our closest friends.”

  Seeing Cory’s clean plate, I asked if he wanted more lasagna. In response, he smiled and lifted his plate toward me. Greg also took another serving. I scooped out the second helpings while Greg refilled wine glasses.

  “Do you think,” I began as I settled back down in my seat, “that Tanaka went after Miranda
out of revenge for not getting on the Lunatics?”

  “It’s likely,” admitted Cory. “At least from what we’ve heard about him and seen for ourselves.”

  Over dessert and coffee we moved the conversation to more pleasant topics. Mona, who worked in customer service at a large company, had just been promoted. Cory, who was in sales, was having a big year in spite of the economy. They had recently bought a house and were remodeling it to accommodate Mona’s needs. After dinner we gave them a tour of our home, which had been featured in a magazine for the physically challenged.

  “Well,” I said to Greg as I came out of the bathroom later that evening, “everything the Seidmans said seems to collaborate Miranda dating Tanaka.”

  I was putting lotion on my arms and hands before bed. Greg, as always, was reading, with one eye on the TV that was tuned to the late news.

  “Sure does,” he said, without looking at me. “And the possible drug connection.” He glanced my way. “Makes you wonder if Miranda knew about the drug dealing or was even involved with it.”

  “We don’t know for sure that Tanaka was dealing down here, and maybe I was wrong about the purse.” I stepped over Wainwright, who was already snoozing on the rug at the foot of our bed, and made my way to my side of the bed. “Maybe Tanaka did buy it for her.” I’d told Greg about the handbag and my theory about it while we were setting the table for dinner.

  Greg put his book facedown on his chest. “If she was involved with Tanaka’s drug business, maybe she bought it herself.”

  I climbed into bed, pushing aside Muffin with my leg to make room. For a tiny cat, she could be a real bed hog. “Could be, honey. Whether it was a gift or she bought it herself, it would be hard to explain to Rocky where it or the money for it came from. Unless I’m totally off-base and Rocky bought it for her and she just didn’t want to bring it to San Diego.”

  Greg picked his book back up. “You know more about women and their handbags than I do, sweetheart, so I’m going to back your gut feeling on this.”

  Something still wasn’t sitting right. I turned to Greg, remembering something I’d forgotten to tell him. “Honey, do you remember that party you went to a few weeks ago? The birthday party for Matt?”

  Greg stopped reading and looked at me. “Sure. What about it?”

  “Rocky was there, right?”

  “Yes, he was. He and Matt are tight.”

  “What about Peter Tanaka? Was he there?”

  Greg closed his eyes and concentrated. “Yeah, come to think of it, he was. He came in near the end of the party, and I spent the rest of the night avoiding him. Fortunately, it was a big place and there were lots of guys there. Why?”

  I told him what Seema had told us about Miranda getting dressed to kill that night in the lobby bathroom. “There’s a good possibility,” I said when I was finished, “that Miranda was seeing someone other than Tanaka.”

  “Or,” Greg pointed out, “they had an early night because she wasn’t sure what time Rocky would be home and Tanaka came to the party after.” He paused. “Or she was dressing for one of those wild girls’ nights out. After all, that birthday party was a guys’ night out.”

  I made sure my cell phone was on its charger, then said, “But if it was something like that, I don’t think Miranda would have dressed in secret. She obviously did not want anyone from her office knowing about her change of clothing.”

  Greg turned off his light. “By the way, I called Lance on my way home tonight. There’s no change in Rocky’s condition.”

  “Do you think Lance might know something about Miranda and Tanaka’s relationship?”

  Greg shut off the TV and his light and settled the covers over his chest. “Rocky didn’t seem to know, so why should Lance? Seems like if he knew, he might have told his brother.”

  “If your sister-in-law was cheating on your brother, would you tell him?” I asked Greg.

  Greg was silent for a moment. “It would be difficult, but yes, I probably would say something to my brother if I found out his wife was cheating.”

  I couldn’t for a minute imagine Greg’s brother and his wife having problems. They seemed as goofy for each other as Greg and I were. But it could happen.

  “Whatever Tanaka told Rocky at the game,” Greg said, “it seemed to come as a complete surprise.”

  “I agree. Whatever it was, it hit Rocky hard.”

  “And,” Greg said, after kissing me goodnight, “even if Miranda did kill Tanaka, who killed her? That definitely smacks of at least another party, if not more, or suicide. If Tanaka was involved in drugs and Miranda knew, maybe it was the drug people who killed them both. Miranda’s death certainly seemed like something that type of criminal would do—bump someone off and make it look like they did it themselves. Maybe this other party took out both Rocky and Miranda?”

  Question marks were flying around the room like gnats, but nothing stood out as the winner.

  “Like Mona said,” I told him, “it does seem like Miranda might have killed Tanaka and then someone killed her. Maybe it was just a matter of cleaning up loose ends.”

  I shivered and pulled the quilt up under my chin as I thought about why Miranda would get involved with Tanaka in the first place. She and Rocky always seemed happy enough—not blissful but okay. But I’ve known many couples who looked happy on the outside but were miserable behind closed doors. With that thought I snuggled closer to my husband, who instinctively lifted an arm so I could get closer. Once I was in place, he wrapped both of his arms around me and almost instantly fell asleep. I sighed with contentment. Greg and I were happy in the public eye and even happier behind closed doors.

  Sleep did not come to me as easily as it did to Greg. Something was off—something I was overlooking. With the house quiet except for the snores of my husband and the occasional snuffling from Wainwright, my brain went into overdrive going over and over everything that had been shoved into it over the past few days.

  Slipping out of bed, I went into the kitchen and made myself a cup of hot chocolate. I was halfway through the creamy beverage when what was nagging at me presented itself front and center. After finishing my drink, I went back to bed.

  Greg stirred. “Everything okay?” he asked. He opened his eyes to slits and drew me close, snuggling his lips against my forehead.

  “I don’t think Miranda was seeing Peter Tanaka,” I told him.

  “Why not?” His eyes opened all the way and turned to look at me.

  “Miranda hated quad rugby.”

  Greg came more awake. “What?”

  “She told me so. She despised it and the time Rocky devoted to it. I’m pretty sure she’d never date another player.”

  Fifteen

  I hate driving to LA during the week, even when I’m not physically doing the driving and even when traffic is not snarled. Zee and I were on our way to Beverly Hills, the city of the rich and famous, sitting like a bejeweled island among the hustle and bustle of greater Los Angeles. One of the ways to spot when the city of Los Angeles stops and the city limits of Beverly Hills begins are the telltale white scrolled street signs throughout the expensive enclave. LA street signs are a dark color and plain.

  Before leaving home I had placed a call to Dev Frye but had only reached voice mail. I had wanted to run some of my ideas past him. Maybe they would help the police find the killer or killers. He returned the call while Zee and I were on our way to Beverly Hills.

  “Do you mind?” I asked Zee when my phone rang. “It’s Dev.”

  “Go right ahead,” she replied.

  “Hi, Dev,” I said into my phone. “Thanks for calling back.”

  “Your message said you have something on the Henderson case,” Dev said.

  “Just a hunch or two, but I think it’s worth looking into or at least passing along to the detective in San Diego.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  Pleased that Dev wasn’t going to start by chewing me out for snooping, I told him what I had le
arned from Seema and my theory that Miranda was not seeing Peter Tanaka but someone else. “I don’t know what Miranda was hiding from her husband,” I told Dev when I was done giving him all the info, “but I’d almost bet it was not an affair with Tanaka, though it was something Tanaka knew about.”

  “Funny you should mention the secret fancy duds,” Dev replied. “We went through Miranda Henderson’s car. The trunk was filled with expensive clothing, shoes, and jewelry all packed in suitcases, ready to go. There was even a very large stash of cash. It looked like she was living a secret life separate from her husband. And it looked like she was getting ready to bolt.”

  “You mean leave him?” I asked. Zee glanced over at me, her brows clearly raised over the top of her sunglasses.

  “Sure looks that way.”

  “Any indication of another person involved?”

  “None that we could see, but we’re pulling her phone records.” Dev paused. “Are you sure there were no problems between the Hendersons?”

  “The only crack I ever saw was her dislike for quad rugby. I know Rocky spent a lot of time on the sport, and they always seemed happy enough, but you never know. Did you talk to Lance Henderson?”

  “Yeah, I did. The guy’s all torn up over this, but he did say his brother had been moody lately—something about his job. Seems Rocky Henderson was about to lose his business. He also said the couple had been on and off for some time due to stress over finances.”

  “I had no idea they were having financial problems,” I said with surprise. “And I don’t think Greg did either. Rocky did tell Greg he wanted to talk to him about something while we were in San Diego, but of course that never happened. Maybe it was about his business. Maybe he needed some advice.”

  “His brother also said he’d been drinking a lot more lately.”

  “Rocky and Greg were at a party together about two weeks ago, and Greg said Rocky got totally bombed at it.” Quickly I digested the pieces of information. “Okay, so Rocky’s business was failing, but his wife was squirreling away expensive stuff and cash.”