The Cornelius Saga Boxed Set

by Tanya R. Taylor

  They spent another two hours at the parlor eating more ice cream and getting better acquainted. Rosie learned that her father was an executive at an oil company in Houston and that she had grandparents who were dying to meet her. By the end of that outing, Cody and Rosie felt that a bond was being formed and were optimistic about their future together. Rosie couldn’t wait to tell her mother and grandmother all about it.

  15

  _________________

  The following morning…

  “For you.” Sara handed Mira the phone. “It’s Detective Saunders.”

  “Hello, Detective…” Mira answered, as she sauntered over to the couch.

  “Mira, I have some interesting news for you this morning,” Saunders started.

  “You found the remains.”

  Saunders nodded as if she could see him. “Yes, we did! It’s amazing that you knew they were still there in the graveyard. I’m certainly a believer now – the entire Department is!”

  Mira smiled.

  “Anyway, I’d like to thank you, on behalf of the Department, for all the help you gave us so that we can now wrap up this case. There’s no way we could’ve done it without you.”

  “I’m glad to have assisted, Detective.”

  Mira was thinking of the family members of those deceased and how they must be relieved. “If they’re going to be re-buried in that graveyard, they must be prayed over first by a holy person,” she said. “That’s the only way the activity surrounding their disturbance will cease.”

  “Pastor McPhee has agreed to perform a special service for them tomorrow. Of course, a few of the relatives insisted on taking their loved ones’ remains and having them buried elsewhere.”

  Mira shook her head vehemently. “It can’t be Pastor McPhee — not in the state he’s in,” she asserted.

  “Why not? What state?”

  “I have to speak with him first.”

  She immediately hung up the phone and hurried to her room. “You’re going down to the church?” Sara asked, as Mira quickly changed her blouse.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You want me to go with you?”

  “No. I’ll be okay.” Mira grabbed her keys from the bureau.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure!”

  She hurried out to her car and reversed out of the driveway.

  * * *

  Mira could hear an organ playing as she approached the door. Instead of going to the administrative building where Pastor McPhee’s office was, she headed over to the sanctuary, in the direction of the music.

  Opening the double doors of the church, she saw McPhee at the organ entirely enraptured by the hymn. She walked up the aisle and took a seat in the front row.

  Glancing up at her, he almost stopped playing, but she gestured that he didn’t. At the end of the song, he got up from behind the organ and headed over to her.

  “Doctor Cullen, how are you?” He sat next to her.

  “I’m fine. And you, Pastor?”

  “I have to say I’m not sure right now. I guess you heard all the remains were found right there in the graves,” he said.

  “Yes, I know.”

  “The detectives rave about your sixth sense and how without you, those remains likely never would’ve been found.”

  Mira managed a half smile.

  “What I don’t understand though is how in the world they got there. It’s been beating me up since the discovery yesterday. I had to come in here this morning to relax my mind somehow through music. I didn’t know what else to do.” He paused. “But thankfully, all the remains have been recovered and we’re going to have a special service to re-bury them.”

  “That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” Mira said. “You mustn’t perform the funeral.”

  “Why not?” McPhee asked.

  “You’re tied to the demonic activity that’s happened on these grounds.”

  “Demonic activity?”

  “Yes.” Mira nodded.

  McPhee sat back as thoughts flooded his mind. “So that partly explains it.”

  “What?”

  “Those entities I saw in the Sawyers’ house the day before they died. I was completely terrified. Nothing like that ever happened to me before and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

  Mira turned and faced him. “You’re not tied to demonic activity because you saw demons.”

  “They were actually… demons?”

  “Yes. They took the form of humans in order to deceive and terrorize,” Mira explained.

  “How am I tied to them?” he asked.

  “Through the woman who summoned them and also made sure your wife could no longer please you… in that way,” Mira replied, bluntly.

  McPhee was baffled.

  “What woman are you referring to and what did you mean the other day when you said my wife was pushed down the stairs?”

  Mira looked him dead in the eyes. “The woman you’ve been having an affair with, Pastor. The woman you’ve had sex with on church property. That woman is a witch and her aim is to have you all to herself.”

  McPhee stood up. “How dare you accuse me of such things?”

  “You and I both know the truth, Pastor. You may not have had knowledge of your secretary causing the fall of your wife through her dabbling in witchcraft, but you are certainly responsible for the condition your wife is in today.”

  Those words cut Ronald McPhee like a knife.

  “You are also partly responsible for everything that happened on these grounds — the disturbances of the graves, the Groundskeeper’s death — all of it!”

  “How am I responsible for those things? Have you lost your mind, Doctor Cullen?”

  “You’re responsible because you gave evil forces full access to this property when you committed those acts on this land. That way, you desecrated the church grounds; you desecrated your position as Pastor and you created ties to a witch. In essence, you messed up big time and because of that, you should not officiate at the re-burial of those remains. If you do, the trouble that has started will continue and you would have caused more harm than you’ve done already.”

  McPhee lowered his head.

  Where is your secretary?” Mira asked.

  “She’s not in today. She’s been ill ever since the remains were unearthed yesterday.”

  “Your wife’s fall was just the beginning. All this recent activity was leading up to something far more devastating – for you.” Mira could see the embarrassment seeping through his pores. “It’s not too late for you to do the right thing,” she told him.

  Slowly, he nodded.

  16

  _________________

  Upon hearing his frantic knocking, she opened the door. She was still wearing her nightgown.

  “What’s the matter?” Mary-Lou asked.

  McPhee’s eyes were red and he looked broken.

  “We have to talk.”

  He walked past her and sat on the sofa.

  “Ron, you look awful! Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m not here to stay.”

  She sat down next to him.

  “Who are you, Mary?” He asked, looking into her eyes.

  “What kind of crazy question is that?” She frowned.

  “Are you a… do you dabble in…witchcraft?” he asked.

  “What in the world?”

  “I asked you a question, Mary, and I want you to be honest with me.” His equanimity was unnerving.

  “I… I...once experimented when I was a teenager, but it was nothing serious, Ron. Why are you asking me this?”

  “You once experimented, huh?”

  “I said I did, but I don’t anymore.”

  Those eyes he loved to look at assured him in that instant that there was no way the only woman he had fallen for since marrying his wife would ever tell him the entire truth. As much as it hurt to no longer be with her the way they were for so long, h
e felt compelled to do what his conscience had demanded from the very beginning – before he made the plunge into that sea of pain.

  He stood up.

  “Where are you going, Ron?” she asked.

  “Away from you. Don’t come back to the church and don’t ever contact me again.”

  He headed for the door.

  “You’re just gonna walk out on me after everything we’ve shared, Ron? You’re just gonna leave?” She was filled with rage as tears gushed from her eyes.

  Bare-footed, she followed him to the car. He got inside and started the ignition.

  “We have to talk about this, Ron. What I did in the past has nothing to do with you and I. Haven’t you preached a million times about leaving the past behind? Why are you judging me that way?”

  “You know fully well this has nothing to do with your past, Mary,” he replied. “You’re lying and you know I know you’re lying.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You destroyed enough lives. No matter how much you wanted to be with me, my wife didn’t deserve what you did to her — none of those people did.” He put the car in reverse.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We have to talk about this. You’ve got it all wrong!” she said.

  McPhee didn’t utter another word.

  “It’s that psychic, isn’t it? Did she fill your head with that nonsense?” She yelled, as he made his way out of the yard. “I’ll get you back, Ron! If I can’t have you, no one else will! I promise you that. You hear me?”

  Drenched in tears, Mary-Lou slammed the front door, yanked a small photograph of her lover which she always kept on the mantle, and hurried to her bedroom. She pushed her bed all the way to the right and yanked up an Oriental rug in the center of the room. Carved in the wooden floor beneath was the picture of a pentagram. She slowly entered the circle and sat down in the middle of it, gripping the photo of her beloved Ronald.

  * * *

  Reverend Raymond Gaston from Old Town Gospel Chapel’s sister church officiated at the mass re-burial which made headlines around the community. Ronald McPhee stepped down as Pastor the very morning of the service, then shortly thereafter, moved away with his wife to another state. He never pastored another church and was never heard from again.

  Old Town’s graveyard has been peaceful ever since — at least to those who cannot see the spirits of the dead.

  ~ The End ~

  Cara: The Beginning

  MATILDA’S STORY

  Cornelius Saga Series - Book 9

  Dedication

  To my parents, Cecil & Gwendolyn, for all the wonderful years of love and sacrifice you gave.

  I cannot thank you enough.

  1

  _________________

  Newport 1894

  She knew the chase would be on – sooner or later.

  It was after she had gathered up the biggest ball of saliva and shot it in his eyeball that Russ Geritt, fifty-year-old Ranch hand and Matilda’s biggest accuser, belted her one right in the face. She stumbled to the ground. That’s when they heard the loud rustling of leaves in that dark, dense forest they’d dragged her out to. Her Judas was standing there amid the crowd, watching Matilda as she wiped the drop of blood that had sailed down the corner of her lower lip.

  Still a bit groggy from what she’d ingested earlier that evening, Matilda could barely come to grips with her own emotions, which should clearly be anger and rage, since she’d been betrayed by the only one among them she trusted. For now, she knew she had to get up and either face them again or this time, try to somehow escape. Considering she chose the latter, she wasn’t so sure how far her legs would take her, but she was prepared to try.

  “Do you hear that?” Her friend advanced forward and looked around at the towering trees, the branches of which seemed to gently sway in the wind. Then the rustling intensified. “I told y’all she’s a witch!” The woman blurted as Matilda attempted to rise to her feet. “She’s a doggone, bloody harlot and magician. She’s gonna get all of us killed if we don’t get rid of her first!”

  “You’re wrong!” Matilda spoke up through her weakened voice. She was finally standing again and this time kept her distance from Russ who had the angriest expression on his face. There was no denying he was rough around the edges. The fact that she’d dare stand up to him had awakened the beast inside which she knew was there - the same one that had taken up residence inside his soul after he was repeatedly blamed for his little sister’s drowning when he was a small child. Matilda gathered the unfortunate event itself — that he was actually innocent of — didn’t draw the beast; it was Russ’ unquenchable anger at the blame and cruelty he subsequently suffered, and him telling himself that he’d make the world pay for what he had to endure. The world never paid, but Matilda was about to.

  Mutters in the crowd alerted her that her friend had convinced them. “You’re all wrong!” Matilda quickly said.

  “Shut up, witch!” Alan Strever, a lanky old-timer shouted.

  “Please, listen to me. I’m not what I’m being accused of. I never did anything to hurt anyone. You must let me go!”

  “You’re a damn liar.” Russ stepped closer and glared down into those dark brown eyes of hers. “You pretty much maimed Harry Jenkins who used to work at the Mill. Now, he can barely get by to feed his family.”

  “I had nothing to do with that! I don’t even know who this Harry Jenkins is!”

  Russ belted her in the mouth this time. Although the blow knocked her back a foot or two, she continued standing.

  “Lies! All lies!” he snarled.

  “Enough of this useless chit-chat,” Hank Brown hollered from the back of the crowd. “Let’s string her up on one of these trees out here and leave her for the vultures to feed on.”

  Matilda backed up. “Please… please, don’t do this. I’ve never done anything to any of you.” She looked at her friend. “How could you? We’ve been friends for years. I’ve watched your children; shared whatever I had with you and your family. We’ve helped each other; haven’t we? Tell them I’m not what they think I am. You know the truth! You know it better than anyone out here. Please…” Her eyes begged for vindication.

  It seemed like years had passed before the woman uttered a single word in response: “Matilda Stephanie Curry, you are a witch of the worst kind. I’ve heard the chants in your house wee hours of the morning. You were conjuring spirits and worshipping the devil. I watched you move things with your mind and tell people things about their own lives you shouldn’t have known. You lit fires in your backyard without lifting a finger. We laughed at it, remember? You worked magic, summoned dark forces into your home and into this community. You deserve to suffer, Matilda. I am not and never have been a friend of a witch!” She then stepped away as the noisy crowd moved in toward Matilda a second time.

  “Throw the rope!” Russ said to the teenage boy holding it.

  Matilda backed up and now, with a slightly clearer head and strength she hadn’t been able to muster up just minutes earlier, she took off down the rough path.

  “Get her!” She heard a raspy voice behind her.

  Her screams permeated the air and the pine, maple and birch trees surrounding them, as her feet eagerly took her down the unfriendly terrain. Tears streamed down her face; her heart ached and their angry voices gained momentum with every step she took. Torches burned brightly and she even thought she heard the sporadic clinking of swords. She knew if they ever got their hands on her, she was dead. No measure of pleading would dissuade them from snuffing the life right out of her.

  2

  _________________

  Three years earlier

  Not everyone understood her calling, but there was one person who was willing to accept her for who she really was.

  Matilda was unlike anyone Stephen had ever met before. It wasn’t her flawless features, captivating smile and beautiful auburn tresses that made her completely irresistible to him. It w
as that deeper part of her – her soul which lured him like bait and branded him only for herself. It was the one part of her he could never touch — yet the very thing he felt he knew better than the back of his own hand. She was everything familiar and mysterious at the same time, and deep inside Stephen knew she could never be completely his.

  It was the otherworldly advantage that consumed her mind and seduced her more than any man ever could. Never mind that they had been lovers for years and he was the only man she had really ever cared about. He could not fulfill her the way her charmer could – a competitor without human hands or feet; neither heart nor soul. Though in those dark, beguiling eyes of hers he lacked absolutely nothing, he could never compare to what she held most dear: her gift. Or might it be a curse?

  “Ready to go?” he asked as Matilda stood in the front room of the little house lit up by nothing more than a kerosene lantern. Her mother, Joy, and three sisters, Agatha, Betty and Carlotta were standing there as well, looking on. The girls were all sobbing.

  Loosely holding a brown travelling bag, she turned to her mother with tears in her eyes. “I don’t want to go, Mother. Is this truly necessary?”

  Joy went to her and embraced her tightly. “If it weren’t necessary, Mattie, I would never have told you to go. It’s for your own safety, my precious child. Our town has changed so much in the past few years; all this talk of magic was something we barely heard back in the day.” She gripped Matilda’s shoulders firmly. “But they’ve caught on to the…”

  “Say it, Mother!” Matilda demanded. “You believe it’s a curse; don’t you?”

  Joy immediately shook her head as she wiped her nose with the handkerchief.