The Cornelius Saga Boxed Set

by Tanya R. Taylor

  “Okay. What about?”

  “I just came to a realization recently about my life and the direction I was going. I think I’m ready for you to help me make the change.”

  Whatever she was referring to sounded good to Bobby. At least it seemed like she needed him, for the first time.

  Then suddenly, the one she dreaded ever seeing again appeared in the doorway.

  Not again. Not now! She thought.

  Bobby noticed her expression. “What is it, Mira?”

  She only stared ahead and watched as the man slowly walked in, and to her surprise and dismay, stood directly behind Bobby. His black eyes were gazing down at him, and as he moved in further to face him, she saw bright, gigantic angel wings attached to something or someone she could not see, wrap themselves around Bobby. The dark angel instantly backed away, then moments later, casually walked out of the room.

  Mira breathed a sigh of relief.

  “What’s wrong?” Bobby insisted.

  “Nothing,” she replied.

  In the back of her mind, she wondered about the dark angel’s latest visit. Was it an omen of what was about to happen to Bobby? Did it mean that if she were to give her heart to Bobby, he would only be in her life for a short duration? Was she going to lose him next? The very thought of it all frightened her, and suddenly within that moment, she also realized how much Bobby really meant to her.

  Maybe Karlen was right – maybe they were meant to be together, and maybe whatever hurt lies ahead, she was meant to face it... head-on.

  ~ The End ~

  The Groundskeeper

  Cornelius Saga Series - Book 8

  Dedication

  To my husband of the past twenty-five years.

  Thank you, Oswaldo, for all the love and support you have given to me and our children. You are strong, committed and always persevere. From the very beginning, you were an avid supporter of my writing and was never negative about it—no matter what. You shared my vision and still do to this day.

  I will forever be grateful.

  1

  _________________

  The metal chair scraped the hardwood floor when Jason Davis abruptly stood to his feet.

  “I might not have them fancy college degrees or be as sophisticated as you, Reverend, but I ain’t no dummy either! I know what the hell I saw and no one, including you, can tell me no different.” His eyes were glaring.

  Pastor Ronald McPhee immediately raised his hand in defense. “Jason, I wasn’t implying...”

  “Oh, yes you was!” He leaned in over McPhee’s large, mahogany desk. The pastor caught a whiff of the liquor on Jason’s breath. “I been takin’ care of that land back there for ten long years and nothin’ ever happened like this in all that time. I tell you, sometin’s up and you tellin’ me I’m the cause of all that dirt dug up like that. I could’ve been a cold-blooded corpse myself last night and not one of you would’ve given a damn! Pardon my French. Well, let me tell you sometin’, good Reverend, I quit! Go ‘head and find some other unsuspectin’ son of a gun to take the bait and keep that graveyard where the devil runs loose, but I’m outta here!” He stood tall.

  McPhee cleared his throat. “Look Jason, I’m truly sorry we can’t see eye to eye on this, and I do believe you believe all those things you told me. If you feel like leaving the church and your post here as Groundskeeper, I certainly can’t stop you. You have my blessing, although I’d really hate to see you go, especially on these terms.”

  “No disrespect to you, Reverend, but I don’t need your blessin’.”

  McPhee was taken aback by Jason’s abrasiveness. The two had developed a decent rapport within the last six years since McPhee joined the church. McPhee recalled meeting him for the first time. Retiring pastor, Allan Wright, had personally taken him over to the cottage to meet “faithful Jason”. Back then, McPhee was forty-three and he was told Jason had just turned fifty-nine the day before. McPhee had taken it upon himself to give his new employee a belated birthday gift – a card and a leather Bible with Jason’s name inscribed on the inside of the jacket — just his way of being cordial. But something had surely gotten into Jason now with all this upset over who disturbed the final resting place of the dead.

  As Jason stormed out of the office, McPhee tried to stop him. “Jason, you can’t leave right this minute. We have to get to the bottom of this!” But the irritated old man wasn’t hearing a word of it. He rushed past Mary-Lou Rutler, McPhee’s secretary, without the utterance of a single word and pushed open the front door of the administrative building so hard that Mary was amazed the hinges didn’t come right off the door.

  McPhee turned and looked out of the window at the nearly dozen dug up graves, with mounds of dark brown dirt next to each one. Their investigation early that morning uncovered that each of the bodies that was placed in its respective casket had gone missing, and McPhee knew this was a matter for the police.

  2

  _________________

  Jason was not surprised when they finally showed up at his front door.

  “Jason Davis?” A young detective asked after the door swung open before him. He had pencil-straight, black hair and slender features.

  “That’s me–in the flesh,” Jason replied.

  “I’m Detective Saunders and this is my partner Detective Hughes. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  Jason nodded. “I know what this is about. Come on in.”

  The officers made their way over to the couch as Jason plonked himself down in a chair he had dragged away from the dining room table.

  “I tell ya, officers. It’s a good thing I had this old place to come back to. I grew up in this house. Was just me and my Ma. Hardly changed a thing since she passed on fourteen years ago.”

  “So you maintained it while you lived on the church grounds, huh?” Hughes asked. Heavy-set and in his forties, David Hughes had been a member of the Police Force for the past twenty years. His partner, Elston Saunders, had been around for just a little more than nine years, but had been given promotion after promotion and they all figured, he was either snitching or curry-favoring with the Chief.

  “Oh, yes sir, I did!” Jason said. “I came by here at least twice a week to check on things and kept up with the property – and I kept the power on too. Wasn’t much to pay, but I figured: Jason, you never know when you gonna end up right back here and like Ma always said, only a fool puts all his eggs in one basket! Now you see – I ended up right back here.”

  Saunders leaned forward. “Jason, do you mind telling us what you know about the graves?”

  Jason glanced away. The thought seemed to disturb him a little. He made eye contact with Saunders again. “I tried to tell that Reverend over there at the church, but he didn’t believe a word I said.”

  “That’s okay,” Saunders said. “We just want the truth.”

  “The truth’ll set us free, huh?” Jason glanced at Hughes who nodded in response.

  “Surely will,” Saunders replied.

  Jason reached for his cigar from the nearby table. “You don’t mind if I smoke, do ya?”

  “Not at all.” Saunders offered no hesitation. His concern for the inhalation of second-hand smoke took a back seat to him cracking perhaps the biggest case that city had ever encountered.

  Jason crossed his legs after lighting his cigar and took in that first puff. It seemed to not do anything much for the nervousness that suddenly came on, which was evident moments earlier by the way his hands shook as he attempted to light the cigar.

  The detectives gave each other a subtle glance. They were thinking the same thing: Old Jason there had something in that noggin he needed to get off his chest.

  “I’m gonna tell you boys the exact same thing I told the Reverend. I had nothin’ to do when them graves being dug up the way they are and I surely ain’t steal no corpses. When I woke up, I saw everything just the way you seen it. To think they think I might’ve done this, I don’t know what to say - exce
pt it’s hurtful. It’s hurtful to the core! All them years I toiled ‘round there and even helped bury some of the parishioners that went on to the sweet by and by, I’d think them church people would’ve known I couldn’t do nothin’ like that. I was a hard worker, a good worker, and I took my job seriously.”

  “You said you woke up and found the graves like that,” Saunders started, “but when? Was it at night or this morning?”

  “It was… was… this mornin’.”

  “You didn’t hear anything?”

  “Nothin’ at all.”

  Jason’s hands were trembling even more atop his lap.

  Saunders sighed. “Jason, I have to cut it to you straight. You were the Groundskeeper. You were responsible for taking care of the church grounds. You can’t possibly convince me or my partner here that eleven graves were dug up overnight and you didn’t hear a thing. The house you lived in was right inside the graveyard. You must’ve heard something.”

  “Now, you don’t go accusin’ me, Detective! You don’t know what the hell you’re sayin’. I’m a grown man – old enough to be your father; don’t sit in my house accusin’ me of any crime, ya hear!”

  “Mister Davis, just take it easy,” Hughes interjected. “We’re only trying to get to the bottom of this. As you know, it’s a very serious matter. Families are affected by what’s happened to the graves and remains of their loved ones.”

  “I know all that, dammit! I’m just sayin’ I had nothin’ to do with nothin’ and I don’t appreciate no snot-nosed kid interrogatin’ me like this.”

  Saunders stood up and began to pace. Hughes looked at him, knowing his pride had been trampled on.

  “Now, you look here, Jason,” Saunders pointed, “you either tell us what happened to those graves or we’re gonna take you in and lock you up until you’re ready to talk!”

  Hughes sat quietly, knowing the most Saunders could do without any hard evidence was question the guy, yet he also knew why he cracked most of his cases. It was through sheer intimidation when the “niceness” had run out.

  “Lock me up?” Jason roared. “What the hell you gonna lock me up for? I told you two knuckle-heads, I don’t know a thing, but you keep on like you don’t understand English!”

  Saunders approached him and slid a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket. “Stand up!”

  Hughes couldn’t believe his eyes. “Saunders...”

  “Leave this to me, David,” he quickly interrupted.

  Not acceding, Jason looked at Hughes, hoping for a better intervention.

  “Better do what he said,” Hughes told him. The big guy knew there were almost no bounds to the young detective since he had the Chief eating right out of his hand.

  “I… I swear I don’t know nothin’.” Jason stood up, looking far more nervous than before. “I don’t wanna go to jail; never been there a day in my life.”

  “Well, you’re going now.” Saunders slapped the cuffs on him.

  Jason’s eyes sought the help of a man who stood there somewhat helplessly.

  “Why don’t you tell us what you know?” Hughes said, “And there’s a good chance if you’re being truthful, you won’t have to go to jail.”

  “But I told you...”

  “Ah, forget it! We’re taking you Downtown,” Saunders pushed him toward the door.

  “Wait! Wait!” Jason sighed heavily.

  “You’re ready to talk?”

  Jason nodded. “Just take these off. They feel like they’re cuttin’ through my skin.”

  Feeling a sense of accomplishment, a subtle smile appeared on Saunders’ face and he released the guy.

  Jason rubbed his wrists. “You mind if I sit down? I think I need to if I’m gonna tell this story.”

  Saunders consented and they all took their seats again.

  Jason hesitated slightly. “I’m tellin’ you now, this is gonna sound really strange. That’s why I didn’t see no sense in speakin’ a word of it. And you might, after hearin’ me out, decide you gonna slap them cuffs right back on me, but at least this weight’ll be off my shoulders and if I’m put away, I’ll be put away with a clear conscience.”

  The detectives sat quietly and waited for him to spill the beans so they could recover the remains and wrap up the case.

  “This ain’t the first time this sort of thing happened,” Jason said.

  “What do you mean?” Saunders asked.

  “Two graves was dug up before and I just went and covered them up nice and neat. The bodies was missing from them too.”

  “What?” Hughes was stunned.

  “Did the pastor know about this?” Saunders probed.

  Jason shook his head vehemently. “He didn’t. Nobody knew except me. I woke up early one morning and seen the graves was disturbed and when I saw the bodies was also missin’, I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I was thinkin’ I’d get blamed.”

  “How long ago did this happen?” Saunders asked.

  “About a week ago – maybe ten days. Everytime that sort of thing happened, includin’ last night, a lot of strange things was happenin’ in the cottage and on the graveyard grounds. I’d be hearin’ these scratchin’ sounds throughout the night, you know, like sometin’ slidin’ across metal or wood. Seemed like it was first comin’ from the kitchen area, like pots and pans was bein’ handled, then it’ll move on to the sittin’ area where the TV turned off and on and my li'l AM/FM radio’ll start playin’ by itself. In the night, when I went out on the porch and looked across the graveyard I saw dartin’ shadows. I was scared outta my mind. This all started the first night before I found the graves disturbed and been continuin’ the whole while – every single night up to last night.”

  He paused, feeling the tension gradually building inside of the room.

  Hughes cleared his throat. He was at a loss for words. He never expected Jason to come up with a story like that.

  Saunders looked Jason dead-set in the eyes. “Do you expect us to believe that cockamamie story?”

  “No, I don’t!” Jason shook his head. That’s why I never spoke a word of it before. You insisted; threatened to lock me up. Well, now you know. That’s about it.”

  Saunders looked at Hughes. He was searching for some logical input, which he didn’t immediately get. He also had an inkling that he wasn’t going to get more out of Jason than what had already spilled. Either Jason was crazy or he was a grave-robber and in any event, he was going to find out which one.

  “You’re gonna have to come and show us the other graves you said were dug up too so we could verify that part of your story,” Saunders told Jason.

  “Now?”

  “Yeah, now.”

  Jason stood up and reached for his straw hat. He had long put out the cigar as it wasn’t successful in calming his nerves much.

  “Are you sure you wanna stick to that story, Jason?” Saunders had a weak glare in his eyes.

  “It’s the only one I have. Detective. No threat of yours, includin’ jail time could get a different one from me. It’s the God’s honest truth.”

  3

  _________________

  Pastor McPhee and Mary-Lou looked on as Jason pointed out the additional graves to the detectives. A forensic crew was on site as they had been earlier that morning when the police were initially contacted.

  McPhee and Mary said nothing to Jason and Jason had no interest in any further communication with them either. Plain-clothed Law Enforcement Officers with shovels in hand dug until they came upon the first casket. One of them jumped in and opened the lid enough for everyone standing at the edge of the grave to see that the coffin was indeed empty. The same was repeated and discovered with the other grave – both were empty.

  Dumbfounded by the discovery, Pastor McPhee sought to break the silence. He, alone, walked over to Jason.

  “Jason, what’s happened here? What in the world is going on? Where are the remains of these dear souls?”

  Jason was as silent as the breeze; h
is lips pursed in anger at the man who had the nerve to think the worst of him.

  “Jason...”

  “Pastor, please let us handle this,” Saunders interjected. “This is now a criminal investigation.”

  “I will.” McPhee nodded as he backed away from Jason. “I’d just like to say one other thing. Jason, if you want to talk about anything, you know how to reach me – any time of day or night. Okay?”

  Jason’s focus was straight ahead as those words entered one ear and hauled tail through the next. He was soon taken down to the police station where he was interrogated further, then released a few hours later. Regardless of the varying tactics the detectives used, the story Jason told in his living room that day never changed. Yet Detective Saunders felt in his gut, he’ll eventually get the truth. There was no way he was not going to close that case … and soon.

  * * *

  Ten days later...

  “Theresa Jane Anastacia Sawyer, bring your lazy butt out here and pick up all these beer cans! They’re all over the bloody yard!” Jane Sawyer yelled from her front porch. She was sitting outside smoking a cigarette with the pack nearby on the porch rail. Jane, hitting sixty in a couple of months, was a hard-core gun enthusiast and always kept her beloved shotgun where she could easily access it — under her bed.

  The yellow and white, two bedroom concrete house sat next door to the Old Town Gospel Chapel on Dranson Street which maintained its own graveyard on ten acres of land. She and Theresa’s room were adjacent to the graveyard and they could see the care-taker’s tiny cottage from their window.