Hell on Wheels

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  “True, I did.” He paused. “Excellent job, Odelia. You handled it perfectly. My mother was very concerned about Eudora. She was worried that she’d become very ill. She called Eudora’s hotel this morning to see if they would look in on her, only to find out that the woman had checked out yesterday afternoon.”

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Tobin got her feelings hurt and worried unnecessarily,” I said, but silently I was applauding Elaine for not only sticking to her promise, but being so quick about it.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Simon said with a chuckle. “Today Mother is heading to the top spa in town to have her feelings massaged and her ego given a facial. By tomorrow she will have forgotten all about Eudora.”

  Hmmm, rich people. “I hope you don’t mind, Simon, but although this matter is over, I’m not going into the office today. I have some personal things to take care of.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve earned it.”

  Earned it—the same words Ann Tanaka had used.

  “I will be checking in on Steele a bit later to make sure he doesn’t need anything.”

  “It’s nice to see that you are as conscientious as I’ve been told.” I could hear him smiling through the phone. “But don’t worry about Mike. He called me this morning to say he would definitely be back on Monday. His speech was even much clearer today than yesterday.”

  The day with his buds must have done Steele a world of good. “Still, I’ll give him a jingle,” I told Tobin. “Just to make sure.”

  After saying goodbye to Simon, I showered and dressed, then called Steele. “How are you doing this morning?” I asked my boss.

  “Not bad,” he answered. Simon was right. Steele’s voice was much improved. “I’m actually thinking of not doing a lick of work today.”

  “Are you still on drugs?”

  He laughed. “Actually, Grey, I haven’t had a pain pill since Wednesday night. I’ve just decided after everything to stop and smell the roses before I jump back into things on Monday. What about you? Are you still on that top-secret project for Simon Tobin?” The question was delivered with his signature sneer, letting me know the old Steele was indeed back.

  “I finished it up yesterday and just called in a report to him on it. He gave me the day off.”

  “Nice. So you can spend time working on the Henderson matter. Do you have anything more for me to do?”

  “Not right now. In fact, we’ve hit a bit of a brick wall.” I brought him up to date on what Greg and I had found out at the Tanakas and on what Dev had told us.

  “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, Grey, but it makes sense now that we know more about Miranda.”

  “Yeah, I guess it does,” I said with reluctance.

  “Why don’t you just relax today. You and I will both have a lot to do in the office on Monday, and I’ll expect you there bright and early.”

  “Okay,” I said with less eagerness than he probably wanted to hear. “What’s happening with your car?”

  “I called the dealership yesterday morning and told them what I wanted as a replacement. They’re bringing by the paperwork and dropping off the car sometime this weekend.”

  “The car dealership is coming to you?”

  “Considering the money I’ve spent there over the past two decades, why not?”

  Why not, indeed?

  I hesitated, then jumped into the deep end. “Are you ready to tell me what happened in Perris?”

  “Nope, and I probably never will.”

  “I can live with that, but just promise me this: stay out of Perris, California, in the future, will you?”

  “No fears there, Grey. As far as I’m concerned, the place doesn’t exist.”

  After talking with Steele, I moved on to my next call. It was to Jill to let her know I wouldn’t be in until Monday.

  “Sounds good to me,” she said. “Steele called and said I was to gear up for a hurricane on Monday when he returns, and to get my butt in early.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “he told me the same thing. How’s Jolene doing? Is she still waddling around the office?”

  “Sure is. I think she’s determined to work right up until her water breaks.”

  I laughed. “Then you have your hands full today without me and Steele.” I paused, remembering something. “I got another call from that Michelle Jeselnick this morning, but she still didn’t leave a callback number. Still no luck on figuring out who she is?”

  “None,” Jill answered. “Maybe she’ll get tired of getting voice mail and finally leave a number.”

  “Well, if she calls back, will you please give her my cell number, and tell the front desk to do the same?”

  “Will do. Hey, do you think Steele would be able to eat bundt cake if I brought one in for him on Monday?”

  “Steele loves your bundt cake. If his mouth isn’t healed enough by Monday, he’ll probably puree it in a blender so he can drink it.”

  After saying goodbye to Jill, I couldn’t get Michelle Jeselnick out of my mind. Firing up my laptop, I went to my favorite people-finder website and searched for a Michelle Jeselnick in California. There were five listed for the whole state. As I read down the short list, one name jumped out at me like a jack-in-the-box: Michelle Jeselnick, M.D.—Perris, California.

  A doctor? My first thought was that she was the doctor who treated Steele at the ER after his beating. But if so, why was she calling me? I knew I was one of Steele’s emergency contacts. So were Jill and Marvin Dodd, one of his long-time pals. Except for some distant cousins somewhere in the Northwest, Steele didn’t have any family. But Dr. Jeselnick had been trying to reach me for a couple of days, and I’d just spoken to Steele. He was not only holding his own but getting better each day. Then again, maybe Dr. Jeselnick wasn’t the same Michelle Jeselnick trying to reach me. Maybe the fact that she was listed in Perris was just a coincidence.

  In the back of my mind I heard Dev Frye’s voice—coinkydinks, he called them, and he did not believe in them. But wasn’t it a coincidence that Eudora Fox turned out to be Elaine Powers and she was trying to put the squeeze on the mother of one of my bosses? Or was there some cosmic prankster up above having the last laugh and trying to make my life overly complicated?

  No, this was not a coincidence. Whoever Michelle Jeselnick was, whether or not she was this doctor in Perris, she knew Mike Steele well enough to know my name. Well, there was only one way to find out. I’d call every Michelle Jeselnick on the list if I had to, but I was starting with the doc.

  I called the number listed for Dr. Jeselnick. A professional voice answered, “Perris Pediatrics.”

  Pediatrics? Well, that made sense. Steele often acted like a child.

  “Dr. Jeselnick, please,” I said to the woman on the phone.

  “Dr. Wesley or Dr. Michelle?” the receptionist asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Did you want Dr. Wesley Jeselnick or Dr. Michelle Jeselnick?” the woman clarified.

  “Oh,” I said, slightly taken back. I didn’t expect to have a choice. “Dr. Michelle Jeselnick, please.”

  “Dr. Michelle is not in today. Is this an emergency? Perhaps Dr. Wesley can help you?”

  “I’m actually returning Dr. Michelle’s call,” I told her. “We’ve been missing each other. May I leave a message?”

  “Of course. She checks in regularly. Your name and number, please?”

  I gave the woman my name and my cell phone number. “Please let her know I’m not in my office, so she should call my cell phone.”

  “I certainly will.”

  I looked at the rest of the Michelle Jeselnicks on the list. Should I start calling them or wait until the one in Perris called me back? I decided to wait, putting my money on hitting the jackpot with my first try. Next I called up Google and did an image search for photos of Dr. Michelle Jeselnick. There were a few. She was very attractive but not uncommonly beautiful, trim, and rather bookish behind fashionable glasses. Her honey-colored hair
was worn shoulder-length. There were photos of her in running clothes participating in charity runs and photos of her with children in a hospital. In most of the photos she beamed with a warm, welcoming smile. She looked like someone I would like.

  What I didn’t like was waiting. I felt adrift and wished I’d gone into the office. I’d planned on spending today looking into the situation with Miranda and Peter, but it looked like that was coming to a close, even if not to my satisfaction. Looking around the house, I sighed. It wasn’t like I didn’t have things to do around the place, but I didn’t want to do them. It was just past ten and I was restless, with the whole day before me like a yawning maw. Grabbing my car keys, I headed out the door, deciding to check on Mom’s plants. Mom had emailed saying they’d arrived and reminding me to check her place. After, I’d go to the grocery store. I would be a good wife and make one of Greg’s favorite meals for dinner, maybe even a key lime pie. He loved key lime pie. Well, he loved my mother’s key lime pie. On the way to my car, I thought I might also start cleaning out my clothes closet. It needed attention in a big way. Greg always claimed I could clothe a small nation with the clothes I never wore, and he was probably right—if those people wore size 20. Or maybe they could cut them down and make two dresses out of one of mine. Either way, I really did need to start that project.

  Following my plan, I stopped by Mom’s and picked up her mail and checked the plants. She must have watered them right before she left because they didn’t need it. I checked the fridge and disposed of any food that would go bad before Mom returned.

  My mother’s condo at the retirement place was cute and tidy. Before she’d moved in we’d painted the walls with soft but cheerful colors and hung new blinds. On various shelves and tables were photos of Clark’s kids and grandkids at various ages. There was one particular photo that always tugged at my heart. It was of Clark and our deceased half brother Grady, both in their police uniforms. All three of us had had different fathers, yet Clark and I looked alike in the face. Grady, with his blond golden boy good looks, had resembled neither of us, making me wonder what his father had looked like. He was the man my mother had left with when she’d abandoned me as a teen.

  There were two photos of Greg and me. One was a wedding photo that I’d given Mom after we’d reconnected. The other one was taken last Christmas with Wainwright and Muffin. And on the table next to her favorite chair was a photo of Seamus, our beloved elderly cat who died last November. Mom kept us all gathered around her. The only thing missing were photos of the three men who’d sired each of us kids, making it feel like we’d been dropped from the sky or were, in fact, delivered to Mom via a stork, with no human contact used in the process.

  With nothing more to do, I took a deep breath and headed out the door. Maybe I could grab an early lunch at a cute café before heading to the grocery store. I was just about to lock up when my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number on the display.

  “Hello,” I said, after punching the answer button.

  “Odelia Grey?” asked a woman.

  “Yes, this is Odelia.”

  A big sigh of relief, followed by, “This is Dr. Jeselnick.”

  I took a seat in my mother’s chair. “Are you the Michelle Jeselnick who has been trying to reach me?”

  “One and the same,” confessed the strong but pleasant voice.

  “I looked up Michelle Jeselnicks in California,” I told her, then followed it up with a lie just in case this had nothing to do with Steele’s altercation in Perris. “I called them all. I’ve been out of the office, so I had to get creative when you didn’t leave a callback number.”

  “You didn’t tell Mike about my calls, did you?” The confident voice suddenly sounded worried.

  “No, I didn’t. What is this about, Doctor?”

  “I’m worried about him.” She hesitated. “The last time I saw him, we didn’t leave off very well between us, and now I can’t reach him. Is he okay or just avoiding me?”

  Huh? An attractive, active, and socially responsible lady doctor practicing in Perris. A woman Steele didn’t tell us about and who, when he last saw her, presumably shortly before getting the crap beaten out of him, parted with something negative brewing between them. Steele’s mysterious event was clearing in my brain like frost hitting a warm window.

  “When was the last time you saw Mike Steele, Dr. Jeselnick?”

  “Please call me Michelle,” she told me. “I last saw Mike on Sunday morning. We had brunch at my parents’ house, followed by a bit of an…well, an argument. He left abruptly.”

  The timeline certainly fit. “Do your parents live in Perris?”

  “Why, yes, they do. Our medical practice is here, too. My father and I have a pediatric practice.”

  The question was, how much to tell Michelle? I made a quick decision. “I’m sorry to tell you that Steele was in a car accident on Sunday.” I heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end. “Don’t worry,” I said quickly. “He’s going to be fine. He’s been at home recovering this week and hasn’t been much for company or calls.” Another lie. They were stacking up like cords of wood, but I didn’t want to give away too much before I could talk to Steele.

  “Oh my God!” Michelle said, clearly upset. “I need to go to him. I’m going over there right now.”

  “Hold your horses,” I told her. “If he’s not taking your calls, I’d suggest you wait a bit before showing up on his doorstep. Give him time to get better. Allow me tell him you called and are concerned. I have a way with him.” Another lie.

  “Yes,” she agreed after a pause. “That might be best. He does think the world of you.”

  But not enough to tell me about you.

  I made it to Laguna Beach in record time, in spite of midday traffic.

  “So,” I said to Steele, standing over his recliner, with him trapped in it. “Who is Dr. Michelle Jeselnick, and why have you been hiding her away?”

  “I’m not hiding anyone, Grey. I simply hadn’t told you about her yet.”

  “More to the point,” I pressed, “what does she have to do with what happened to you in Perris?”

  “She has nothing to do with my injuries.”

  “Bullshit, Steele. This woman is frantic with worry about you. She was about to land on your doorstep when I convinced her to let me talk to you first.”

  He shifted in his seat, the majority of his bruises now reduced to green and yellow. “Anyone ever tell you, Grey, that you have all the charm of a cement truck?”

  “Actually, yes,” I confessed. “But this isn’t about me.” I took a seat on the sofa close to him. “Listen, Steele, I’m sorry I’m coming on strong, but I’m worried about you. I’m worried about Michelle. She’s very distraught.”

  “She’s a she-devil,” he spat out.

  “Uh-huh. A she-devil—right. Someone so odious you went to Perris to have brunch with her parents. You almost never meet the parents of the women you date. My nose tells me this Michelle is someone pretty special.”

  He got up out of the chair and walked stiffly to the wet bar, where he poured orange juice into a squat crystal glass and took a sip. I noted he was no longer needing a straw or squeeze bottle to drink.

  “What happened, Steele? Come on, talk to me.”

  “What did you tell Michelle?” He took another drink of juice, then offered me some. I shook my head, and he stashed the container back into the mini fridge.

  “Our story that you were in a car accident. Then she started ranting and raving, saying it was all her fault.” I eyed Steele. “Why would she think it’s her fault? Is it because you two had a fight?”

  “We didn’t have a fight.”

  “Well, that woman—who, by the way, sounded lovely on the phone when she wasn’t crying hysterically—said you two didn’t leave off Sunday on the best of terms.”

  I got up and went to lean on the wet bar in front of him. “Let’s recap, shall we? You went to brunch at her parents’ house on Sunday
. Something happened, and you stormed off and headed for the nearest dive bar, where you had a few drinks and provoked some Neanderthals into beating the crap out of you and your Porsche. So far, so good?”

  “Don’t you have a murder investigation to stick your big nose into?”

  “Don’t try to change the subject, Steele. Like it or not, you’re important to me, and I think it’s important for you to face whatever this is, and the sooner the better. Or should I call Dr. Michelle and have her drop by with her stethoscope and rubber gloves?”

  He put the glass down on the bar with a heavy thunk and turned to one of the bookshelves behind him. From a wooden box he took another box, a smaller one of velvet, and handed it to me. I opened it and gasped. Inside was a diamond engagement ring the size of a kiwi.

  “I was lucky,” Steele said, “that those goons didn’t riffle my pockets when they were beating me and find that.”

  “You asked Michelle to marry you, and she got mad?”

  “I asked Michelle to marry me, and she said no.” He picked up his juice and returned to his recliner. “Happy now?”

  “So you left in huff,” I said, still eyeing the rock, “drove to a bar, and behaved like a prize ass until you nearly got yourself killed?”

  Without looking at me, he raised his glass in my direction. “That is an accurate statement.”

  Steele wasn’t used to rejection, so I knew Michelle’s refusal didn’t go over well. He’d been married before—years before I knew him—but in all that time he’d never gotten that close to a woman again. At least not that I knew of. Greg and I often wondered if it was because he was afraid of being hurt. Date ’em and dump ’em before they could get close seemed to be his MO. He dated women he would never consider for the long haul or women who were unavailable, like married. But remembering the photos of Michelle Jeselnick, this made sense. His ex-wife, Karen, had been a woman of intellect, a lawyer with a social conscience, and although attractive, she was not a bombshell like most of the women he tended to date. Michelle was a lot like Karen in that regard. Steele might dally with fluffy women, but he fell in love with substantial ones.

  I took my seat on the sofa again. Reaching over, I placed a hand on Steele’s arm in comfort. “I’m sorry, Steele. Really, I am.”