9 Hell on Wheels

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  Greg and I exchange looks. Should we lie or tell Martinez the truth? “We’re in front of Kevin Spelling’s place,” he answered, making the decision for the two of us.

  “What in the hell are you doing there?” snapped Martinez.

  “When Kevin found out about the photo we had of him and Ann arguing at the tournament,” I answered, taking my turn, “he left rugby practice like he was shot out of a canon. We followed him and wound up at his place in Huntington Beach.”

  “Does he know you’re there?”

  “Not that we know of,” I told him. “According to Cory Seidman, as soon as he told him about the photo, Kevin made a phone call and lit out of there.”

  “What does Seidman have to do with this?” asked Martinez.

  “Nothing that we know of,” said Greg. “Odelia showed him the photo, and it seems he told Kevin. Cory appears to be in the dark as to who the woman is in the photo or any possible connection to Peter and Miranda’s death. He’s under the impression that Ann is just another of Kevin’s romantic conquests who got hot under the collar at the game.”

  “I want to thank you for calling with this information,” Martinez said. “Seems we’ll need to be asking Mr. Spelling and the Tanaka ladies a few more questions. I’ll probably be asking you two some more questions, too. So don’t go anywhere.”

  “Do you want us to wait here for you?” I asked.

  “At Spelling’s? No. I want you to please get the hell out of there and go home. Leave the police work to us, thank you very much.” He voice was edgy, like a serrated knife, and not at all in league with please and thank you.

  Twenty-six

  We didn’t go home. Instead, we stayed put, agreeing that it seemed unlikely that Kevin left the game just to sit on his butt at home. Either he was packing and about to hit the road or maybe he was waiting for whomever he called. Maybe it was both.

  “My money is on Ann Tanaka showing up,” Greg said, taking a sip of water from the bottle he kept in the console’s cup holder.

  “Who will show up first?” I asked my hubs. “Ann or Detective Martinez?”

  “If it was Ann who Kevin called and she left Altadena immediately, she should be here soon.” He opened his door and grabbed for his wheelchair, which was stashed behind his seat.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “To talk to Kevin,” he said, setting up the chair and swinging his butt into it. “I’m getting to the bottom of this once and for all.”

  “Not without me you’re not.” I started to get out of the van.

  “No, stay here,” he told me, talking across the front seat of the van. “See if Ann shows up or Martinez.”

  “Not on your life,” I told him. “If Kevin is involved with Peter and Miranda’s murders, I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

  “And if he is,” Greg snapped back at me, “I’m not letting you near him.”

  “Let’s not forget that I took a ride with a contract killer yesterday.”

  “Yeah, and your luck is running out, Odelia. Let’s not press it any more than we need to.”

  Ignoring him, I got out of the van, but as soon as my feet hit the curb I heard Elaine telling me that one day I’d pay for being on the side of right all the time. Maybe she was right. Maybe Greg was right.

  “What if he pulls a gun on you?” I asked Greg.

  “He could pull a gun on both of us,” was his response. “I’d rather he only have one target.”

  “No sale.” I stuck my cell phone in a pocket, then lowered my window a few inches to give Wainwright air and shut the door behind me. I stood on the curb waiting for Greg, clearly not budging until he gave in on the matter.

  Greg took a deep breath and said something under his breath, then something to Wainwright. After closing his door, he locked the van and set the alarm. The beep of the alarm sounded like a final high-pitched swear word.

  The complex Kevin lived in was large and nicely landscaped and made up of both single and two-story buildings. It had to be an older complex. Newer ones weren’t being built with this much green space or in single stories. With Greg leading the way, we moved along the wide sidewalk until we reached the pool area. Greg stopped and looked around. “It’s one of these along here to the right,” he whispered. “The carports are in the back.”

  I trotted ahead, looking over the front doors for clues or names, finally pointing to one that had a ramp built where normally a few steps up to the entrance would be.

  “I think you’re right,” Greg said, joining me.

  “If we ring the bell,” I asked, “what are the chances he’ll make for the back and get away while we stand here?”

  “Could happen,” he said.

  “Why don’t I go around back and so he can’t escape that way?”

  I could tell Greg didn’t want me out of his sight. He didn’t mind if I was out of sight in the van, just not out of sight nosing around. Finally, he said, “Okay, but if he does come out the back, don’t get in his way if he’s armed, and keep your cell phone on.”

  “Give me a minute before you ring the bell,” I said, taking off down the sidewalk to the end of the building. I went around the back to the driveway that led to the carports. The townhouses in this section were all single story and had a double-covered carport and a gate leading to a back patio. I spotted Kevin’s vehicle in its cubby and waited. On his back gate was a painted arts and crafts sign that read not handicapped, handicapable. I waited by the sign. A few minutes later I heard Greg say, “Come on in, Odelia. It’s okay.” About the same time, the gate to the back of Kevin’s place opened and Kevin invited me in.

  We stood by the kitchen table just inside the back sliding door. If Kevin had a weapon nearby, I didn’t see it.

  “I was just on my way out,” he told us. He seemed edgy and brittle, with none of his usual confidence. On the table was a duffle bag half filled with clothing. A shaving kit and other clothing were waiting to be packed.

  “Where are you going in such a rush?” Greg asked.

  “I need to go to my parents. They live in Ojai. It’s a family emergency.” He looked at Greg, then me, and said, “Hey, isn’t Odelia’s mom sick?”

  “Our family emergency is just as fake as yours, Kevin,” Greg confessed.

  “Did you call Ann Tanaka before you left the gym today?” I asked, not giving him time to process our lie.

  “No, I didn’t,” he said, a bit too quickly. “Why would I call her?”

  “To give her a heads-up that the police will soon know that she was at the tournament when her brother died,” Greg said.

  “Ann wasn’t there,” Kevin stressed, looking from me to Greg again. “She was nowhere near there. She was playing tennis that day.” His face grew red as he tried to convince us.

  “Someone must have lied to the police about her alibi because we have a photo of you and Ann arguing,” Greg told him. “The San Diego police have it now.”

  “That wasn’t Ann,” Kevin said. “It was…it was someone else.” He grabbed the clothing still on the table between his two open palms, using his damaged hands like salad tongs, and forced it into the duffle. He did the same with the shaving kit. “Now I have to go. Really, guys, we should all go.”

  Greg rolled close to him, using his own wheelchair to block Kevin’s path. “How are you involved with Tanaka and Miranda’s deaths?”

  Kevin’s eyes popped. “I’m not involved. Not at all. How can you even think that?”

  “The woman you were arguing with in San Diego was involved. We believe it’s Ann and that she killed both of them.”

  Kevin shook his head back and forth hard, like a dog shaking off water. “No. Ann would never do a thing like that any more than I would.” The passion in his voice was strong and assured.

  I moved closer to Kevin. “Are you involved romantically with Ann Tanaka?”

  Kevin closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he slowly nodded. “Yes, we’ve been secretly dating off and on
for several years. It started right before Peter took off for Canada. Her mother doesn’t approve, so it’s tough. She thinks we broke it off a long time ago.”

  “But what about the other women you’re seen with?” I prodded.

  “These days they’re mostly friends helping me cover up my relationship with Ann.” He glanced nervously through the living room and out the front window like he was expecting someone. “Like I said, Ann and I have been off and on in secret for a long time. We broke it off again when Peter returned from Canada.”

  “I take it he didn’t approve either,” said Greg.

  “Not really. The mother has a problem with me not being Japanese—at least that’s what she says. Peter had a problem with his sister being with a gimp.” He scoffed. “Strange, huh? He’s good enough for the women he dates, but I’m not good enough for his sister.” He took several deep breaths before continuing. “I begged her to move in with me when Peter showed up again. He smacked her around. Did you know that? He did it for years.”

  Greg and I nodded, almost in unison.

  “That monster of a mother of hers wouldn’t lift a finger to stop it. It wasn’t so bad when Peter went to Canada; then Ann only had to deal with her mother treating her like a slave.” Another deep breath. “I begged her to come live with me and not look back. I told her I’d protect her.”

  “Why didn’t she?” I asked.

  Kevin smacked his dining table with his fist. “Because of the damn money! There’s a trust her father set up. She and Peter were to come into the money in just a couple of months.”

  I stepped forward, curious about an idea that had just occurred to me. “But why couldn’t she move in with you until the trust matured?”

  Kevin rubbed his hands over his face. “Because the mother controls the trust, and she didn’t want Ann leaving her and being happy.” He took another deep breath, as if each explanation was a punch to his gut. “There’s a morals clause of some kind in the trust,” he told us. “If Mrs. Tanaka feels either child is behaving in a way to bring shame on the family, she can extend the maturity of the trust by five years.”

  “If that was the case, why wasn’t Peter penalized?” Greg asked. “He’s done all kinds of things to shame the Tanaka name, including blackmail and drug charges.”

  “Because, honey,” I told Greg as the pieces fell together for me, “that’s her hold on him. I’m thinking it’s probably why he came back to California. After she bailed his butt out on the Canadian drug charge, she probably told him he had to come back or forfeit the trust for five years.”

  Kevin was nodding. “That’s pretty close to what’s going on. The way I understand it, she would have done anything to keep Peter close to her. I wouldn’t even put it past Mrs. Tanaka to enforce the clause anyway. Meanwhile, Ann has been towing the line, playing the dutiful daughter, trying to get to her next birthday and to the money. I’ve told her over and over that I don’t care about the money; we’ll be just fine without it. But she feels it’s all she has left of her father. She feels she’s earned it in some sick way and is refusing to leave home without it.”

  “Ann told us pretty much the same thing,” Greg said. I could see from his face that it was falling together for him too. “She said she was going to leave as soon as she came into her inheritance.”

  “Yes,” Kevin confirmed. “She was leaving Southern California. In a few months I would follow, and we’d get married.” For the first time, a small smile crossed his lips. “My parents love Ann. They can’t wait to welcome her into the family.”

  “So it was Mrs. Tanaka who killed Peter and Miranda.” I said it not as a question but as a statement.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Kevin told us. “But I wouldn’t put it past the old witch. Ann told me that Peter was leaving town as soon as he got his inheritance, too. Even though he smacked Ann around, he was also close to her.” He looked at us with disgust. “It’s sick, I know.”

  “Did you know that Peter Tanaka was blackmailing Miranda Henderson about being a call girl?” Greg asked.

  “Not until this past week,” he told us. “When I asked Ann about it, she said she knew but didn’t want to tell me, knowing Rocky was a friend of mine. She was also worried that her brother would go after me if he thought I knew. Even though we were friends, he could be pretty vindictive. He was particularly mad about not getting back on the Lunatics.” He sighed. “As for Rocky and Miranda, I knew they’d had some problems, but nothing as bad as it turned out to be.”

  Greg rolled his chair back to allow Kevin more movement. Kevin moved his wheelchair deeper into the living room so he could keep watch out the window. Like most homes where a resident is in a chair, it was uncluttered, with wide spaces in which to navigate. We followed, and I took a seat on the edge of the sofa, perching carefully instead of getting comfortable just in case I needed to move quickly.

  “How did you come across June Tanaka at the tournament?” Greg asked Kevin.

  “It was a fluke, really,” he explained, still nervously glancing out the front window.

  “Is Ann on her way here?” I asked, noticing how antsy he was.

  “Yes,” Kevin admitted. He looked at me. “You’re right. I did call her after I heard about the photo of me with her mother. I told her it was just a matter of time before her mother was hauled away by the cops and to get out of the house now because there’s no telling what that crazy woman would do once cornered. She finally agreed with me and is coming here. Then we’re going to my parents’ house.”

  “In Ojai?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know that Mrs. Tanaka killed Peter?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not right off. When I saw her last Sunday, I’d gone out to my Jeep to get something and she was crossing the parking lot. At first I thought it was Ann and called to her, but when she turned around I saw it was Mrs. Tanaka.” He lifted an arm up and swiped at his hair. “I wish I’d never seen her. She came up to me and started yelling at me to stay away from Ann. In fact, she told me she was there specifically to tell me she knew what was going on and for me to leave her daughter alone or else. I really thought that was why she was there, at least until Peter died. But even after he died, I thought it might just be a coincidence because of all the evidence against Miranda. But now I know I was just being a fool. I didn’t want to believe someone would kill their own child.”

  Greg pounded a fist on his knee and nearly shouted. “Why didn’t you tell the police about Mrs. Tanaka?”

  “Because,” Kevin explained, his voice twisted in anguish, “she threatened to hurt Ann if I told anyone that she was there or about our conversation, including Ann.” He moved his arms around with uncurbed restlessness. “I didn’t tell Ann about it until I called her today. Until now I think Ann always thought Miranda killed Peter.”

  “Not anymore. I made sure she knew the truth.”

  All three of us turned to the figure that had slipped silently in through the back door while we were talking in the living room. It was a slender middle-aged woman with black hair, wearing jeans and a gray hooded sweatshirt. She moved like a cat burglar, deliberately and with stealth. In her hands was a gun.

  Twenty-seven

  “Ann’s not here, Mrs. Tanaka,” Kevin said, turning his wheelchair to face the crazy woman.

  “I know that,” June Tanaka said. Her lips immediately pressed together into a tight red slash. “I managed to talk some sense into her. She sent me to tell you she’s not coming and to leave her alone.”

  “What have you done to her?” Kevin screamed at her. He rolled forward but stopped short when Mrs. Tanaka leveled the gun at his chest.

  “We had a little mother-daughter chat, and mother always knows best.”

  “Put the gun down, Mrs. Tanaka,” Greg told her, inching his chair forward a few inches. “Let’s discuss this.”

  “Stay where you are, Mr. Stevens,” Mrs. Tanaka told him, “or I might have to kill your wife as a warning.�
�� The gun was now aimed at my chest. I held my breath, then let it out, nice and slow.

  “It’s clear it was you who slipped into Peter’s van and put the cyanide into his water jug,” I said, staying put. “But why? You seemed to adore your son.”

  “Because he was going to leave me again,” she explained. “The night before he left for San Diego, I confronted him about his plans. We argued.” With her free hand she lifted the front of the sweatshirt to expose a trim belly with several large bruises. They reminded me of Steele’s injuries but weren’t quite as bad. “I can abide many things, but I will not tolerate this.”

  “He hit you?” I asked.

  “We argued. Then Peter cornered me and started punching. He didn’t stop until I hit him over the head with a book I grabbed from a shelf.”

  “Where was Ann?” asked Kevin

  “Not home. Probably out whoring around.” She gave Kevin an icy-cold look of accusation. “And even if she was home, I doubt she would have stopped it.”

  I wanted to feel sympathy for June Tanaka but was having trouble mustering any. She’d created the monster that was Peter Tanaka, and she had let him slap Ann around for years. I wondered if the irony had occurred to Mrs. Tanaka that she had been attacked by her beloved house pet that she’d personally trained.

  “But why did you have to kill Miranda Henderson?” asked Greg. “She did nothing to you.”

  “That wasn’t the plan,” she explained, lowering her sweatshirt. “After I left Peter’s van, I crouched behind a car and watched and listened as the Henderson woman and Peter met.” She cackled. “I almost ran into that dimwit whose wife plays rugby. He was also spying on them but gave up after a few minutes.” She continued to hold the gun steady on me. “Miranda handed Peter an envelope, then helped him refill his sports bottles while they talked—actually, argued. She told Peter she was leaving town and this would be her last payment. He said he would go to her husband, and she told him she didn’t care anymore. Frankly, I didn’t know if she was stupid or simple, helping her blackmailer like that with his chores, but what better fool to take the fall? Especially after leaving her fingerprints all over the place.”