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

by Susan Goslak

  his sister fell to the ground. He was terror stricken as he watched the man run away. The next thing he knew was that he was on the ground holding Cissy. She was dead, yet she looked at George and said, “I’m dead, George. You must help me. Promise me that you’ll find my killer.”

  George woke with a start to find himself sweating and shaking. He pushed his blankets aside and sat up. Wow that was some nightmare. He thought. I’ve got to work harder to find Cissy’s killer. I promised. Maybe I’ll go to the shelter for breakfast and ask the people there if they’ve seen a man with a scar. . Yes, that’s a good idea. I have to help Cissy. She needs me. I have to do what God wants me to do. I have to treat others the way they treated Cissy. It’s the golden rule. Father said it was. I have to help the police. They need my help, too. So many people need me. I don’t know if I can help them all. There’s only so much one man can do.

  « Chapter Thirty »

  It was still raining on Saturday afternoon when Jim and his team met to discuss what to do next. Ray’s voice was almost back to normal. “Let’s try it one more night,” said Ray. “I told the staff that if George comes in they should make sure that he hears them talking about the guy with a big scar on his face who came in last night and who said he’d be back today.

  Jim’s men agreed to put “The Nike Patrol” on duty once again and to put Ray, “Scarface,” Jansen inside the building again. Everyone was hoping that this would be the day they caught George.

  “I’m leaving now in case George comes into the shelter for dinner,” said Ray as he left Jim’s office. Ray arrived at the shelter in the middle of dinner. He looked around and didn’t see George. He took a tray of food and sat a table so that he could see all the people as they entered. Soon dinner was over and the staff began to clean up. George still had not come in. Ray walked outside to get his jacket out of his car. He walked around the building and was making

  a circuit of the parking lot when a man ran out from between two cars and jumped on Ray knocking him into one of the parked cars.

  George!

  Since Ray was wearing his disguise George thought he was Cissy’s killer. He grabbed Ray by the shoulders and slammed him against the car. “You miserable scum, you killed my sister! You killed Cissy! Now I’m going to kill you!” he screamed. He slammed Ray into the car again and put his hands out to reach for Ray’s throat. “I’m going to strangle you just like you strangled Cissy.

  Ray’s shoulders ached, his head hurt where it had struck the car, his vision was blurred, and he thought, Not again! Not this time! Ray twisted away from George’s hands with all his strength. George snatched at Ray’s throat and his hand grabbed the chain that Ray was wearing. He pulled hard. The chain snapped. Ray cried out in pain as the chain dug into the back of his neck. George cried out in pain as the cross cut his hand.

  George looked at his bleeding hand. Ray drew his gun, but before he could say or do another thing he heard, “Noooo!” and George was yanked away from him by a very angry Toon.

  George spun around and landed a solid punch on Toon’s jaw. Before Toon hit the ground Ray stepped in, grabbed George’s arm and flipped him. George landed with a thud and an “oomph” as the wind was knocked out of him.

  People from the shelter heard the commotion and came running out of the building as Jim came running up gun drawn.

  “Looks like you and Toon have things under control,” he said as he holstered his gun. “Good work, you two!” He used his cell phone to call his men from the field and order a squad car. He hauled

  George to his feet read him his rights, and hand-cuffed him

  as Toon shouted, “We got him! We got him!”

  Everybody was asking questions and congratulating Toon, who was beaming. A second squad car arrived and Jim ushered Ray and Toon into it, so they could go to the police station.

  At the station Toon was still beaming. Jim handed him a soda and an ice pack for his jaw which was turning purple. Ray put his ice bag on his head where he’d struck it on the car. “I repeat, you two did great,” said Jim. “I’ll just have you sign a statement and you’re both free to go. Toon, there are reporters outside. I’ll bet your picture will be on the front page of the paper tomorrow.”

  While Toon and Ray were dictating their statements to one of the secretaries, Jim took George into an interrogation room. “Hello, George,” he said. “Let’s talk. Would you like some coffee? He asked as he set a paper cup of coffee on the table in front of George. I hope you like cream and sugar.

  George asked, “Are you going to put Cissy’s killer in jail? I tried to kill him, but that big guy dragged me off of him.”

  “You tried to kill your sister’s murderer many times didn’t you?” asked Jim. “Tell me about all the times you tried to kill her murderer and realized that you had the wrong man.”

  George hung his head. “That did happen. I thought it was him. I saw the shoes, the Nike shoes with the blue swish on the side.

  I saw the shoes and the clothes and I killed them, but they didn’t have a scar, so I got mad and smashed their faces. They should have been the killer, but they weren’t. They made me really mad. They should have been the killer. I needed to get the killer because I promised Cissy that I would. I promised. People should keep their

  promises. That’s important.”

  “How did you kill all those men?” asked Jim.

  “I strangled them with my hands just like he did to Cissy. Cissy was a good girl. He shouldn’t have done that to her. She was a good girl.”

  There was a knock on the door and Ray stepped in to say that he and Toon were leaving.

  “Murderer!” screamed George as he leaped up and tried to attack Ray. Ray anticipated George with a block and Jim jumped up and grabbed George’s hand. As Jim pulled George away from Ray George reached toward Ray and his nails snagged the fake scar on Ray’s cheek and tore it off.

  George screamed, “Nooooo! You’re not the one! You don’t have a scar! You’re not the one!” He attempted to leap on Ray, again but Ray side stepped. It took both men to handcuff George to the table. George was screaming and tearing at his hair. Jim called an officer in and ordered him to call an ambulance to take George to a hospital.

  Jim held out his open palm. “Is this your cross, Ray?”

  Ray reached for the cross. “Father O’Shea gave it to me. He said that it would protect me.”

  “I believe it did. Look at George’s hand.” George’s hand was wrapped in a handkerchief. Jim unwrapped it so that Ray could see the imprint of a cross cut into George’s hand.

  “No wonder he let out a yell and drew his hand back when we were fighting,” said Ray. “That looks painful. But, I don’t under-

  stand how this cross in my hand could cut George’s hand.” He held his hand closer to Jim. “Look at it, feel it. All the edges are smooth.”

  “I’ll be damned,” said Jim.

  Ray didn’t say anything. He put the cross in his pocket and left the room.

  By the time Ray gave his statement, got his car, and drove Toon home it was late, but I was still up, waiting for Ray. I heard his key in the lock and raced to the door to welcome him. “Oh, Ray, my Ray, I said as I threw my arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  He kissed me, hard. “I need a drink,” he said. He fixed himself a drink and sat on the couch. “I’m glad that’s over,” he said as he leaned his head on the back of the couch.

  “You mean you got him?”

  “We got him.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  Ray did just that. He had another drink while he told me the story. Then he took a shower. I was waiting for him in bed when he came out of the shower wrapped in a towel, looking tired, but sexy. He dropped the towel and crawled into bed.

  “Nice jammies!” I said.

  “Thanks. Aren’t you too warm with the ones you’re wearing?

  I’ll help you get them off.”

  “Are you sure you’re not too
tired? You’ve put in a lot of overtime lately.”

  “I need to relax a little before I go to sleep. Want to help me relax?”

  “My pleasure,” I said as I put my arms around his neck.

  “No, mine,” Ray said as he caressed my back and moved his hands down my body making me ache with longing. The tension of the past few days was eased as we lightly stroked and caressed each other until we felt the heat and the sheer pleasure of our love.

  “Lexi, I need you, moaned Ray.

  “Oh, Ray,” I whispered.

  Our pleasure became ecstasy and, sated, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  We slept in late on Sunday morning and spent the day doing boring things like reading the paper in bed and walking hand in hand on the beach. It was very pleasant getting back to a “normal” routine.

  Jim contacted us at our office on Monday to tell us that George was under the care of a psychiatrist and probably would be for a very long time.

  « Epilogue »

  George was deemed unable to stand trial, due to mental illness. He was committed to a mental health facility where he received the best care, but over the years there was no change in his condition. He eventually joined his beloved sister, Cissy.

  Naturally, Ray and Jim wanted George to pay for his crimes by being sentenced to jail, so they were somewhat frustrated. They had to settle for being relieved that they had taken a serial killer off of the streets.

  In May there was a very nice ceremony at police headquarters. We all attended. Lt. Jim Donner and his team were awarded commendations. Ray was awarded a framed citation for his help in apprehending the killer. I was so proud of him and I couldn’t wait to hang it in his new office. (By the way, I was frustrated with George because I had to have Ray’s brand new carpet cleaned before it was even a week old.)

  The actual murderer of Cissy Miller was never found. Her case is still listed as a cold case.

  William and Cathy found that they desperately missed each

  other and needed to resume their life together. The biggest problem that they encountered was that each of them was trying too hard to make up for lost time. Each one was acting so sweet to the other that it was just too much, but they were determined to make it work and, after enough time passed they were able to relax and resume a more normal relationship. For six months William worked with a counselor to build his self confidence, lessen his anxiety, and eliminate his dependence on alcohol. During that time they lived at their home in Ohio which proved to be a good decision because things became stressful when they moved to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania so that William could gradually assume some duties at the family company. Gradually the three brothers each found the area that they were best suited for and the company thrived under their administration.

  Before William assumed his duties at the family business he and Cathy renewed their marriage vows in church with Father O’Shea presiding and all William’s homeless friends attending. Angie was maid of honor. The reception was lavish. We’re still talking about it.

  The money that William inherited changed their lives dramatically. William insisted that Cathy open the photography studio that she had to give up when William lost his job, and he had a lot of fun buying gifts for Cathy until she reminded him that they had agreed not to get crazy because of the money.

  William and Cathy set up a foundation to help the homeless in many ways such as: housing, medical, jobs and so much more.

  Guess who was hired to oversee the clinic? That’s right, Doc. They

  offered to either buy Angie a bigger place or pay for her to retire. She said that she loved serving and visiting with her customers too much to retire, so they set up a retirement account for Angie to use whenever she became tired of working.

  I took Earl Carter’s sketches to a frame shop and spent hours selecting mats and frames for them. They were impressive looking when they were framed. They were hung at the Stanton Art Gallery for Linda’s fund-raising party. We also had a display of art from the group home where I do volunteer work. The first night of the party was a big success. A lot of rich and influential people attended and bought every one of Toon’s sketches. He also took orders for over a dozen portraits.

  I don’t know how she did it, but somehow Linda got her friends to buy everyone of the paintings that the people from the group home painted. They each got $25.00 to spend any way they wanted and they were thrilled. We raised a lot of money for the group home and Linda and I were gratified. The best part is that from time to time I see one of those paintings prominently displayed in the places were those influential people work. Isn’t that nice?

  Linda took Toon, under her wing. She supplied him with all the art supplies he’d ever dreamed of and a place to live and work. She encouraged him and pushed him to keep working. She paid for medical help so that he could control his clinical depression without illegal drugs or booze. It took time, but Toon was eventually able to support himself with his art. Linda was always there for him when he needed her.

  As for my art career, I am slowly making progress. As my

  skill set gets better, it becomes easier to express my ideas the way I want to see them. I entered my first juried art show and my work was accepted. I didn’t win a prize, but just being in the show made me feel proud. I love the creative process and, by the way, Linda and

  I are becoming good friends.

  Ray downplayed the role that the cross played in this case. He said that he couldn’t explain how a smooth cross cut George’s hand. Father O’Shea and I just smiled at each other. We know that God is protecting Ray, even if he won’t admit it.

  Now that this case is over I don’t have to worry about Ray putting himself in harms way at least until the next dangerous case comes along. Paul gave both of us a week off and we had a wonderful time staying in a cabin in the woods of northern California.

  The Only Constant in Life is Change.

  « « » »

  The first book in the Ray Jansen and Lexi Taylor series is

  Testing The Waters

  And, coming soon, look for the third book in the series

  Scared To Death

  Here is a preview of Scared To Death.

  CHAPTER ONE

  It was an unusually cold night for January in Los Angeles. Not only was it cold, but it was windy and rainy. Ray and I were tucked into our warm, cozy bed, and for us it was just a normal night, but for Mike Bell it was the night the terror began.

  Almost time for a break, thought Mike as he finished running the wet mop over the kitchen floor. He stood in the small kitchen and looked around to make sure that everything was in order. Mike had worked at the Lennox Building as a janitor for the last six months, and, even though it wasn’t what he wanted to be doing, he took pride

  in his work. He could still hear his father telling him that it was important for him to always honor the name of Bell. Always do the best you can, his father had told him and so when Mike had lost his job as an accountant because the economy went south and the com-pany he worked for dissolved he still did the best he could and took pride in his work..

  Mike Bell was just an ordinary looking man. And just

  another victim of the current economic conditions that had put many, too many, people out of work. He was just another statistic, another number on the rolls of the un or under-employed. Just like so many other victims of the times he was forced to take a job that was below his qualifications, way below, but the fact was simple. He needed money coming in, so he took the janitor’s job at night so that he could look for a better job during the day.

  His supervisor was well aware that Mike was not going to be working for him for a long period of time, but he was thankful that Mike was on the staff, even for a short time. He knew that Mike had old fashioned values, and a good work ethic.

  “Kids today don’t want to work. They’re spoiled,” he often told Mike. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve never had a man work as hard as you do. When you leave me I�
�ll have to hire two men to replace you. All the reports that he placed in Mike’s file reflected these views.

  Mike looked at his watch. He was tired, but he only allowed himself a ten minute break at midnight. Time for a break at last, he realized. I’ll have my snack in the conference room tonight because I haven’t vacuumed in there yet. He picked up his lunch bag from the spotlessly clean kitchen counter and turned toward the conference room that was just off to his left. The adjoining door was open slightly. He was startled to see that there were two people sitting at the far end of the conference table across from each other.

  Mike hadn’t been told about any late night meetings. Don’t be foolish, he thought. Nobody has meetings at midnight. He looked at the two people sitting at the table. They were leaning towards each

  other, deep in conversation. They didn’t realize that Mike was watching them. He couldn’t see their faces, but he could see that one was a man and the other a woman. There’s something odd about this couple, he thought. Then he realized what it was. They were dressed like people did in the 1920’s. The man was wearing a raccoon coat and a hat that Mike thought was called a boater. The woman was wearing a wool coat with a fox stole and a cloche hat.

  Am I seeing things? Mike asked himself as he squeezed his eyes together. When he opened them the people were still there, not a figment of his imagination.

  Mike opened the connecting door and said, “Can I help you?”