Keeping Promises Can Be Murder: A Lexi Taylor and Ray Jansen Mystery

by Susan Goslak

  Ray and I left the Christmas party and went to a quiet little bar where we talked and danced and listened to jazz. We wound up at my apartment. There was an electricity between us that night. We both felt it. That spark combined with the Christmas spirit was the catalyst for what eventually happened. That night Ray reminded me what it was like to love a man. My life changed that night. Loving Ray is like an exciting raft ride on a fast flowing river. I never know what is coming around the next turn. And I can’t wait to see what it will be!

  “Good night, Ray, put out the cigarette.” I chuckled as I hung up hoping that he really would find some clues tomorrow.

  « Chapter Six »

  Speaking of pleasant dreams, William had one that night. When he woke he couldn’t recall the dream, but he remembered how the dream made him feel. He felt like he had when he was first married to Cathy. How wonderful it felt to do things for his sweet new bride.

  Somehow that feeling stayed with him when he woke up. “Today is going to be a good day! I just know it!” he said aloud.

  William cleaned up in the gas station restroom. He used the razor that Angie had given him yesterday. He looked in the mirror and rubbed his face. Sure would be nice to have some after shave lotion, he thought. He closed his eyes and breathed in. He could almost smell the lotion he used to use. Didn’t that stuff cost twenty-something dollars a bottle? He shook his head, wondering once again how he’d gotten himself into the situation he was in now.

  William felt so good that when he left the restroom he was whistling. He headed for Angie’s Café and almost ran into his friend,

  Toon.

  “Morning, Toon. How are you feeling today?”asked William.

  Earl Carter was called “Toon” by his friends because, if he had the chance, he liked to watch cartoons. Toon was a little over half William’s age. He was tall, six foot three inches in fact, and thin very thin. He had stringy, dishwater blonde hair that he liked to wear long. His face still had a few pimples. Toon was a quiet, sensitive man who liked to keep to himself. He loved animals, all animals. He kept a white rat as a pet.

  Toon was homeless because he suffered from depression and used, or should I say abused, alcohol to make himself feel better. His parents had tried to help him. The anti-depression drugs that they had gotten from the family doctor didn’t work because Toon would not stop drinking. They’d paid his fines for drunk driving. They’d driven him to AA meetings. They’d invited him to live with them until he carelessly set fire to the bedroom rug with his cigarette and they decided to use tough love and asked him to leave.

  Toon didn’t seem to mind being homeless. He wandered around during the day gathering up things that he could use or sell to others. He got clothes from the Salvation Army and lived in a large cardboard box that he’d made quite comfy with some of his finds. Toon was intelligent. His I.Q. was in the upper two percent. In the evenings he often enjoyed talking with William. They’d discuss current events or philosophy.

  Toon looked at William and answered his question. “I feel good. Look what I found.” He opened his jacket to show William a tiny beige and white kitten. “I found him over by the dumpster in the alley. I think his Mom and the other kittens left him behind because he’s the runt of the litter. I’m going to take care of him. I’ll get him

  some cat food and some vitamins and he’ll grow. He likes me. I’m going to call him Lucky because he’s lucky I found him. Now he has somebody to love him.

  William petted the kitten and smiled at Toon. “That’s great,

  Toon!” How about I buy you some breakfast to celebrate? I have some extra cash today. Are you hungry?”

  Toon nodded his head. Maybe Lucky can eat some of my breakfast. He’s really hungry today.

  Angie was only too happy to supply a saucer of milk for Lucky. When the men left she gave Toon a bag of yesterday’s doughnuts and told him to stop by at night to see if there were any leftovers for Lucky. Toon was walking on air. He rushed right to his “house” to make a safe place for Lucky.

  William decided to take a walk. As he walked past the entrance to the park he heard someone call his name. It was one of the servers from the Hope Is Here homeless shelter.

  “William, are you looking for work?” she asked.

  “Sure am,” replied William.

  “One of the men from the shelter worked as a janitor at the Stanton Art Gallery over on Tenth Avenue. This morning he was arrested. If you hurry, maybe you can take the job.”

  “Thanks!” William called as he began to jog toward Tenth Avenue. William jogged so fast that when he got to the Stanton Art

  Gallery he was out of breath. He entered the gallery through the main door and looked around. He didn’t see anyone who appeared to work there so he entered one of the smaller side galleries.

  There was an ornate mahogany desk in that room. A woman with gray hair pulled back in a bun sat at the desk talking into a fancy, old fashioned looking telephone. There was an edge of panic

  to her voice and she was talking very fast. “What do you mean you can’t get anyone over here until tomorrow morning? Yes, I know, but . . . but . . .” She paused to listen. “But . . oh, never mind!” She didn’t actually slam the phone down. She was too polite for that, but the phone did bang when she put it back in its cradle. “What am I going to do?” she said aloud to herself. She looked around frantically then she saw William. “Oh, I didn’t see you there. May I help you, Sir?”

  William looked around. He wasn’t used to being called Sir. No one had called him Sir for four years. “Oh, you’re talking to me. My name is William Logan. I was told that your janitor is in j . . . is no longer working for you. I’m here to apply for the job.”

  “What! What?” the gray haired woman yelled.

  William took a step back. He was afraid that somehow he’d offended her. Before he could gather his wits about him and figure out what to say, the woman ran out from behind her desk and grabbed William’s arm.

  “Do you really want the janitor’s job? Really?”

  “Yes, yes, I do.”

  “When can you start? Can you start right now? Please can you start right now?”

  “Of course I can.”

  The woman visibly relaxed. She let go of William’s arm.

  “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” She pointed to a chair,

  “Please sit down, Mr.. . .”

  “William.”

  “I’m Mrs. Walker. I’m Mr. Stanton’s assistant. He’s out of town until Monday. He went to visit his children and grandchildren for Easter. I’m here alone and one thing after another has gone wrong.” She was pacing and wringing her hands as she spoke.

  William stood up and gently sat her in the chair he’d risen from. “Here, Mrs. Walker, sit down. You need to calm down. I’ll get you a drink of water from the fountain in the hall.”

  When William returned with the water Mrs. Walker took it gratefully and gulped it down. “Thank you, William.”

  “Feeling better? Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?”

  Mrs. Walker fluttered her hands in the air, “Oh, goodness, first the police came and arrested our janitor, and that happened just as he’d come running in to tell me that the toilet in our main restroom had run over and created a mess. As the police were leaving the Fed Ex truck arrived with the art that has to be hung for our new show which is supposed to open on Monday. I can’t get anyone to come from our regular cleaning service because they say that a whole crew is out with the flu, and they’re closed this weekend because of the holiday. I’ve only got two people to hang the show because I made a mistake and let too many people take time off for the holiday. I’m at my wit’s end as you can see by my rude behavior. This is the first time I’ve taken over for Mr. Stanton. He’s depending on me and I want to show him that I can handle this job.”

  “Now, Mrs. Walker, you haven’t been rude at all. I’m glad I came here. I believe I can help you. First, I’ll clean up the mess in


  the rest room and check to see if I can fix the problem. I know a little bit about plumbing.” I remember the times I complained about fixing the plumbing in our house in Toledo. I’d give anything to be able to have those times back. William brought his thoughts back to the present. “Then I’ll bring some friends to help me make this place gleam. We can uncrate the art for the show, too. If you’ll show me the janitor’s closet I’ll get some tools and have the mess cleaned up in no time, and by Monday, this place will be in great shape and Mr. Stanton will know what a good assistant he has.”

  Mrs. Walker rose. “I’ll show you where the mops are right now” She retrieved a set of keys from her desk. “Here, you’ll need these.” She showed William the janitor’s closet and the key that opened it. “Oh, goodness, William, you’ll have to fill out some forms and we haven’t discussed wages.”

  “Now, don’t worry about that. We’ll do that tomorrow. By the time Mr. Stanton gets back we’ll have everything in order. You and I are going to be a great team.”

  William was as good as his word. In a little under an hour he had the mess cleaned up and after a quick trip to a hardware store he had the toilet back in working order. Mrs. Walker was very happy.

  When William finished the clean up job Mrs. Walker gave him the standard employment forms to fill out and told him what his wage would be. Following that she introduced him to the rest of the staff.

  They entered a small office where an attractive twenty-some-thing woman was just hanging up the phone. She wore a tailored, pale green suit with matching shoes. She accented her outfit with a

  simple gold chain and gold hoop earrings. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a French knot. She looked up and smiled as they entered.

  “William, meet Miss Delano. She does marketing for us and puts on the first night cocktail parties that accompany some of our shows. She does an excellent job. We’re lucky to have her on our staff.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Walker. It’s kind of you to say so,” Miss Delano said as she rose and walked around her desk to greet William. She extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, William.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.”

  They found Mr. Donald Forrest in the back of the building where there was a room that was used for storage and for receiving and unpacking crates. He was checking off the incoming art with a checklist that he had on a clipboard.

  “Hard at work I see,” said Mrs. Walker as she entered the room. “This is William. He’s taking our previous janitor’s place. He’s already been a big help to me today.”

  Mr. Forrest extended his hand, “William.”

  “William is going to bring a couple of his friends to help us.”

  “Do you think that’s wise, Mrs. Walker? You know anyone handling the art has to be bonded,” cautioned Mr. Forrest.

  William spoke up, “Don’t worry, Mr. Forrest, the men I have in mind are avid art lovers. They’ll treat your art as if the paintings were new-born babies. And if you don’t want them to actually touch the art, they’ll be happy to open crates, carry things, and clean up.”

  “Thank you, William, I guess you’re right. We do need some

  help. If they work out, maybe we can get them bonded and we’ll use them whenever we need extra help.”

  William rubbed his hands together, “Great.” Now I’ll go get my helpers and we’ll be back in an hour. When we return you can show us what needs to be done.”

  William thanked Mrs. Walker once again for the job and hurried to Toon’s “house”. Toon was sitting on the ground outside of his cardboard box with his kitten on his lap. The kitten was playing with some yarn Toon had found for him. When William approached Toon spoke, “Look what Lucky can do.” He patted the ground beside himself. “Sit here and I’ll show you.”

  William sat next to Toon and watched as Toon and Lucky played tug of war with the yarn. “That’s cute. Lucky sure is glad you found him.” He stroked Lucky. “Listen, Toon, I have some good news. I’ve got a job for you.”

  Toon looked at William, “Job?”

  “It’s at the Stanton Art Gallery over on Tenth. We have to uncrate and hang some paintings. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Sure. I can do that. When?”

  “The job is just for today and Saturday, but you’ll earn some money. You’ll be able to buy those vitamins you said you wanted for Lucky and some food for yourself. You could do with a good meal.”

  “Okay, I’ll do it.” Toon picked up the kitten and held him so they were face to face. “You’re going to get your vitamins. Isn’t that great!?”

  William got up. “Go ask “Doc” if he wants to come along and meet me back here in five minutes.”

  “Doc” had once been a paramedic. He took care of the cuts and bruises that the homeless people got. Some came to him often, just to get a little attention. Others had to be cajoled into letting him help them because they didn’t trust anyone. Over time he’d gotten a reputation as someone you could go to when you needed help. One of the volunteers at the shelter knew about “Doc” and supplied him with bandages and antiseptic.

  Toon put Lucky in a cage he’d made for him in his house, so he wouldn’t wander away and get lost or hurt, and hurried to find Doc. In five minutes the three of them were headed back to the art gallery, eager to work.

  Toon was excited to have a job at an art gallery. He was an excellent artist himself, had been since childhood. At the age of twelve he’d made an ink drawing of the University of Pittsburgh’s Cathedral of Learning that looked like a photograph. Years later he did technical drawings for an engineering firm. His portraits looked like photographs, especially the ones done in sepia tone pencil. In addition to all that, he enjoyed doing fantasy type pictures in pastels and acrylics. He couldn’t wait to get to work. His long legs allowed him to walk a lot faster than the other two men, and they had to practically run to keep up with him.

  Doc was less enthusiastic, yet glad to be able to earn some cash. The men’s arrival made Mrs. Walker happy. They learned fast and worked hard. Mr. Forrest liked the men, appreciated their good work, and, knowing how badly the men needed money, paid them in cash when they left. He told them that he’d give them as much work as he could. Toon skipped lunch so that he could look at all the art in

  the gallery and when the day was over he hurried to Petco to buy vitamins and food for Lucky.

  “Toon, don’t spend all your money on Lucky. Get yourself some food, too,” admonished William.

  « Chapter Seven »

  On Saturday morning William, Ton and Doc appeared early at the art gallery ready for work. While they worked, Ray was leaving his hotel in Toledo. He was glad he’d bought warm gloves the night before. It wasn’t raining, but it was cold and damp. Ray felt the cold right down to his bones. He took a cup of coffee from the coffee bar in the lobby and walked to his car. He started the engine and turned on the heater full blast. He took the lid off his coffee and inhaled the aroma. Ray thought the smell of fresh brewed coffee was one of the best things about mornings. Another good thing about mornings was the caffeine that came along with the wonderful smell. While the car was warming up Ray drank half of his coffee, then he headed into the city of Toledo to get an idea of what the city looked like. He was surprised to see that there weren’t many people on the streets. Toledo seemed to be a victim of the flagging economy. He saw the abandoned building where William used to work which was situated at the base of the High Level Bridge. He drove past the Maumee Bay Brewing Company and Fifth Third Field, home of the Toledo Mudhens baseball team, as he was heading toward the east

  side of Toledo and Tony Packos; the restaurant made famous by the

  old T.V. series M.A.S.H.

  He turned right on Consaul Street and entered the parking lot

  across the street from the restaurant. It was dark inside and crowded, but he managed to find a table. While he was waiting for Cliff and Cathy to join him he checked out some of the hot dog buns that lined the walls. Each one w
as signed by a famous person. He saw the one signed by Jamie Farr, the actor who had played Klinger on Mash, and another signed by Dale Chihuly, the famous glass sculptor. I think Linda has a Chihuly vase or bowl or something, he thought.

  As he was looking around he felt a tap on his shoulder. He saw a dark complected man with salt and pepper hair dressed in jeans and a Toledo Mud Hens shirt. “Excuse me, Sir. Are you Mr. Jansen?”

  Ray turned and extended his hand for a handshake, “I am. You must be Cliff Simmons.”

  Cliff nodded as he shook Ray’s hand. He put his arm around Cathy and said, “This is Cathy Logan.” Cathy was short and trim. She wore her blonde hair short. She was dressed in navy blue jeans and a white, cable knit sweater. She had cordovan loafers on her feet. Ray noticed that she still wore her wedding ring.

  “Thanks for meeting me, Mrs. Logan,” Ray said as he pulled out a chair for her.

  Cathy sat down and looked up at Ray. “I’m sorry you made the trip here, Mr. Jansen. I’ll be in L.A. next week. I could have come to your office. Cliff would have told you, but he didn’t know.

  “Don’t worry about it. I have other people to interview here.

  It isn’t a wasted trip.” He pushed Cathy’s chair in and sat across from her. “So, you’re going to L.A. next week. Is it your first visit to

  our city?”

  “Yes, and I’m excited about it. I’m a professional photographer. A neighbor of mine used to live in L.A. he arranged for me to have a showing of my work at the Stanton Art Gallery.”

  “Good for you. If you e-mail me a flyer I’ll post it in our building.

  “Thank you. I’ll do that.”

  Before anyone could say anything else their waitress brought menus and took their drink orders.

  “You might want to try one of Tony Packo’s famous hot dogs,” suggested Cliff. “I’ll order some fried pickles so you can taste them, too.”

  “If you like something and want to take it home there’s a small gift shop at the back of the restaurant,” said Cathy.