The Cornelius Saga Series (All 15 Books): The Ultimate Adventure-packed Supernatural Thriller Collection

by Tanya R. Taylor

  McPhee just smiled.

  “Well, here we are!” She pushed open the rusty, white gate and they mounted the porch. Inserting the key into the doorknob, she looked behind at Theresa and McPhee, then took a deep breath before opening the door.

  “Feel free to roam,” Jane said as McPhee made his way across the living room with the Bible tucked beneath his arm.

  “Thank you,” he replied.

  He started speaking blessings throughout the house as Theresa and Jane followed.

  “This is my room,” Theresa told him.

  McPhee seemed a tad hesitant to enter, but did so cautiously. Standing in the center of the room, he raised his right hand and delivered his blessing upon the space. Then, on turning, he thought he saw something outside the door in the hallway.

  “Is someone else at home?” he asked, knowing he had already walked through the other rooms.

  Jane looked in the direction of his stare. “No. No one else is here. Is there something wrong, Pastor?”

  He arched his brows. “No, nothing at all. I just thought… Never mind.”

  Jane approached the reverend. “If there’s something you saw, I wanna know about it.”

  “I… I just thought I saw someone out there; that’s all. Must have been my mind playing tricks on me.”

  “Describe that person you thought you saw.”

  “I mean… I only caught it for a second – if I even saw anything at all!” McPhee seemed suddenly confused. “I guess you could say it was a rather large man.”

  Jane and Theresa glanced at each other. They’d both expected him to describe the young man they saw the night before.

  “I see.”

  “Anyway, let me continue,” McPhee said.

  “Please.” Jane backed off.

  Theresa led him to the basement where, from the top of the stairs, he spoke the blessing. As he pronounced the last syllable, McPhee saw several people waving at him from below and he quickly backed away and shut the door.

  Jane saw the nervousness all over his face. “What’s the matter?” She yanked open the door and peered downstairs. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she looked back at McPhee who was wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

  “I’m not feeling so well right now. I’d better be going.” He started to hurry off.

  “Wait a minute, Pastor!” Jane cried. “What did you see?”

  He halted in his tracks and looked at her. “I’m not sure what I saw, but I’ve done all I could and I advise you and your daughter to stay close to God. I have to go now.” He opened the front door and hurried along the sidewalk back to the church.

  “I wonder what he saw down there,” Theresa commented softly.

  “There’s just one way to find out!”

  Jane boldly made her way into the basement.

  A short while later, Theresa cried from the door. “Is everything all right in there, Ma?”

  Moments later, Jane re-surfaced. “There’s nothing down there. I don’t know what was going on with that pastor, but there’s absolutely nothing that has me concerned.”

  “You think maybe that talk of ghosts before we came messed with his mind?”

  “It’s surely a possibility,” Jane nodded. “Either that, or he actually saw something we didn’t, and I hope that’s not the case.”

  12

  _________________

  A loud knock at the door jerked Mira from her nap. She sat up on the couch and glanced at the wall clock that read 12:03 p.m.

  She heard another knock. This one, even louder.

  “I’m coming!” she shouted, heading to the front door.

  On opening, she noticed two men in coat suits standing on the porch. “May I help you?” she asked.

  Saunders showed her his badge. “Good day, ma’am. I’m Detective Elston Saunders and this is my partner, Detective David Hughes. Are you Mira Cullen?”

  Their presence at her door worried her, as Rosie and Sara had not yet returned from church. “Yes, I am. Is there something wrong? Are my daughter and mom okay?”

  “We’re not here to report any bad news, Doctor Cullen. I’m sure your family is fine,” Saunders replied.

  “Why are you here, then?”

  Saunders cleared his throat. “May we come inside please?”

  Mira stood to the side and allowed them to enter.

  “Nice place,” Hughes said.

  “Thank you. Please have a seat,” Mira told them.

  The detectives sat on the couch as she took the chair facing them.

  “Doctor Cullen...” Saunders started.

  “Please call me Mira.”

  He smiled. “Mira… I don’t quite know how to put this to you, but straight probably is the best way. Detective Hughes and I are working on a case where unfortunately, we’ve hit a few dead-ends, and were wondering if you’d be interested in helping us in any way possible.”

  “I’m not a police officer,” Mira said. “I have no background or expertise in detective work.”

  “But you do!” Hughes remarked. It seemed to catch Saunders off guard. “I mean, we’ve heard about some of the matters you were previously involved in and how you were able to bring some things to light.”

  “What my partner is saying is that, we’re not looking for you provide any investigative expertise such as is common in Law Enforcement. We’re hoping you could use your psychic ability to help the case we’re working on,” Saunders clarified.

  “Whew!” Mira got up. She started to pace slowly with a hand behind her neck. “This is a first. I’ve never been asked to work with the police before and quite frankly, I didn’t know anyone there knew anything about me.”

  “You might be more famous than you think.” Hughes smiled.

  Mira was unsure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She sat down again. “I don’t know.”

  Saunders opened his briefcase and retrieved a manila envelope. Mira watched as he pulled out a stack of 8 by 11 photographs.

  Saunders leaned forward, placing the photos on the table in front of them.

  “This is the case we’re trying our best to solve.” He slid each photo to the side and spread them across in a horizontal line.

  Mira leaned in. “It’s that case we’ve been hearing a lot about – the disturbed graves,” she said.

  Saunders nodded. “And missing remains. Feel free...” He invited her to view the photos.

  She picked them up and looked at each one – each time seeing the person who once was laid in their respective casket – not as they are dead, but instead, the way they were before they died.

  The detectives sat silently as Mira obviously consumed the information that appeared to her. She soon rested the photos down and looked up at the men again.

  “Are you able to help us in any way?” Saunders asked.

  Mira thought for a moment before she replied. “If you want me to help you, you will have to be open to what it is I tell you. Nothing must be too incredible for you to take seriously – nothing at all. If you think you’re going to have some difficulty with this, let me know.”

  Saunders sat up straight. “We’re pretty open-minded. Aren’t we, Hughes?”

  “Right! Definitely!” Hughes replied.

  Mira wasn’t too sure about Saunders’ sincerity, but Hughes was convincing.

  “No one stole the remains, Detectives,” Mira indicated, much to their surprise.

  Stupefied, the men glanced at each other.

  “What do you mean?” Saunders asked her. “There were no remains found in any of the coffins.”

  “I would like to visit the church, the graveyard and I’d love to speak with the pastor there, if that’s all right,” Mira said. “I need to do that in order to gather more information, then I can tell you what’s going on, from my perspective.”

  “Not a problem. We can arrange that,” Saunders replied. “I must ask though, how soon do you think you’d be able to do these things? I know you’re a doctor and all.”r />
  “I’m on leave for a few more months. I was involved in an accident not too long ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks, but I’m much better now,” Mira said. “If you can get permission, I will go down to the church tomorrow morning.”

  “Wow! That’ll be great!” Saunders exclaimed. “I’ll speak with Pastor McPhee today so he can expect you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Would you like to keep these pictures?” he asked.

  “No need. Thanks.”

  Saunders collected the photographs and thanked Mira for agreeing to help out. Hughes had the look of satisfaction all over him.

  “I’ll speak with you later,” Mira said, walking them to the door.

  As they were driving away, Sara and Rosie pulled onto the carport.

  * * *

  “So, what do you think of her?” Hughes asked Saunders as they headed down the street.

  “I don’t know. That remark about the remains not having been stolen threw me off a bit. I’d say caught me by surprise,” Saunders said.

  “Kind of caught me off guard too, but from what I heard, she’s the real deal. It’ll be interesting to see what she comes up with.”

  “Yeah, time will tell.”

  Saunders made a left for the highway.

  * * *

  That night…

  The wind wailed and trees felt the powerful force of the invisible assault. However, quietude inhabited the Sawyers’ brick house as Jane and Theresa had long fallen into a deep sleep. Jane made sure to swallow a sleeping pill to relax her enough for bed, just hours earlier.

  It was the loud blast which awoke her from her sleep around two in the morning. It sounded like someone had fired a shotgun close by. Still somewhat sedated, she got up and walked over to the window, pulling the curtain aside. Peering out into the dark, she could barely see anything as heavy rain had now accompanied the raging wind.

  Growls. She heard them clearly, but she was sure they were not… outside. Moving cautiously over to the bed again, Jane knelt down and grabbed her shotgun from underneath it. Clicking the lamp on the nightstand was fruitless, although the fan was still spinning in front of the bed. She went over to the door and flipped on the light switch nearby. Still, nothing. Yet, the fan was spinning. She realized finding herself in the dark had nothing to do with the electricity. She was certain it had everything to do with that dead man who had shown up the night before.

  A scratching sound could be heard near the bed and Jane hurried over there again, straining her eyes to see all around it, then in front of the door, she could see them. Some slowly entered the room and lined up across the doorway.

  “Who are you people?” She raised the weapon. “You’d better get out of here before I plant a bullet in each one of you!” They stood there quietly, and the ensuing moments were filled with fear and anxiety for Jane.

  “I’m warning you! Get out of this house! Leave us the hell alone!”

  “Now, Jane...” A large man made his way through the crowd and into the room.

  “Stop right there, chubby!” Jane snarled. “And how the hell do you know my name?”

  “The name’s Clyde, dear. I’m from around these parts and these are my friends.” He smiled.

  “Friends, huh? Well, you and your friends hurry along. You’ve found your way into the wrong house.”

  “Oh, no. You’re mistaken, my dear. We’ve stopped off at just the right house.” And then his voice went deeper. “Haven’t we, my friends?”

  Jane’s anxiety hit the roof as she saw them slowly approaching; the fat guy front and center. “Get out!” she exclaimed. “I warned you mother effers!” She pulled the trigger – over and over again, blasting them from left to right and right to left until she saw them all fall to the ground. Then, one by one, they stood up. Clyde got on all fours to pull himself up. His small eyes turned black, as again, they moved in. Jane was doing the only thing she knew to do. The lone crucifix in the house was still in Theresa’s room. She fired the gun repeatedly until she realized they were gone – all except for one. She could barely see that person on the floor, and it seemed they were motionless.

  That’s strange, she thought. Why would they all disappear except for this one? Something then tugged at her to try the lamp again on the nightstand. With the weapon still in hand, she hurried over and clicked the button. This time, the single bulb it contained lit up the room and on the floor in the doorway she saw her only child, laying lifelessly in a pool of her own blood.

  Shocked and horrified, Jane ran over to Theresa, cuddled her head in her lap and released an ear-piercing scream. One of the many bullets had hit the girl’s chest and killed her instantly. Jane soon realized that her daughter must have run into the room when she heard all the gunfire and was then shot by mistake. With tears streaming and no possible room in her heart for any measure of self-forgiveness, she gently rested Theresa’s head on the floor, then sat backwards against the wall near the door. She aimed the barrel of the shotgun at her own chest and with her big toe on the trigger, she clicked it. Her head fell limply to the side.

  13

  _________________

  The streets were still wet early that morning as neighbors and passersby watched coroners remove both bodies from the Sawyer residence. Police cars, ambulances and Law Enforcement officials were on the scene. A somber feeling filled the air as numerous questions paraded to the forefront of everyone’s mind. Just as the bodies were being carried off to the morgue, Pastor McPhee, driving toward the church yard, quickly stopped and exited his car.

  “What happened?” he asked an onlooker.

  “There’s talk of a murder-suicide,” the man said. “Apparently, the mother shot the daughter, then killed herself.”

  McPhee was speechless and could barely contain himself as tears filled his eyes. Immediately, he felt guilty after having rushed out of that very house the day before when those two females had asked for his help.

  He left the crowd and continued on to the church, tears flowing by now. In his office, he sat at his desk sobbing and begging God to forgive him for abandoning the Sawyers.

  Mary-Lou walked in fifteen minutes later. “What’s wrong?” She hurried over to him.

  “I turned my back on those people and now they’re dead!” he exclaimed.

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “The mother and daughter who lived up the road next to the graveyard. They were both found dead this morning.”

  Mary appeared stunned. “So, that explains all the commotion out there.”

  McPhee nodded. “Yesterday, they asked if I would bless their house because they reported strange things were happening there. I did so, but then I started to… see things. I’m ashamed to admit I was afraid and so I left. Now, they’re dead!”

  “See things? What type of things did you see?” Mary-Lou asked.

  “I don’t know. People. They didn’t look right. They looked...”

  She held him and tried to convince him that it wasn’t his fault. McPhee wasn’t so convinced.

  * * *

  Mira pulled into the church yard just before noon. Casually dressed, she exited her car and took the cobblestone walkway to the church’s administrative building.

  Mary-Lou greeted her at the door.

  “I’m here to see Pastor McPhee,” Mira said.

  “Doctor Cullen, right?” Mary-Lou smiled.

  Mira nodded.

  “Please come in and have a seat. He’ll be right with you.”

  She marched back to her desk and picked up the phone. “Doctor Cullen is here,” she uttered softly.

  “Okay. Send her in,” McPhee replied.

  She got up and made her way around the desk again. “Please come this way.”

  Mira followed her to the office down the corridor.

  McPhee was standing already when she walked in. “Doctor Cullen, come right in. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you.” M
ira said.

  Mary-Lou left the room.

  Sex with sweet Mary-Lou after news of the murder-suicide that morning, had lifted McPhee out of the depths of despair. He definitely felt better, even though a little guilt continued to nudge him.

  “I was told by Detective Saunders that you’re a clairvoyant who’s assisting them with the case,” he said.

  Mira smiled.

  “Wow! A doctor who’s also a clairvoyant. I must admit, I’ve never been much of a believer in psychics and I’m not sure I am now. However, I do believe in the spiritual realm; I guess you can call it the supernatural. And I suppose if I believe in that, also believing that some people can see things that others can’t wouldn’t be too far off the radar, huh?” He cracked a smile.

  “Guess not.” Mira assumed a more comfortable position in the chair. “Honestly, I don’t refer to myself as psychic or clairvoyant. I see myself as a normal human being who just happens to see things or have knowledge about things that others might not have. I don’t label myself because of that.”

  “I see.” McPhee crossed his legs. “So how can I help you today?”

  “I’d like to take a look around – to see the property, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Before we go though, I’d like to ask you a few questions,” she said.

  “Okay. That’ll be fine.”

  “How did your wife become crippled, Pastor?”

  Her question surprised him.

  “You know my wife?” he asked.

  “Haven’t met her.”

  McPhee assumed she’d heard of her through church talk. “Well, it was sort of a freak accident. One morning when we were at home, she was calling for me from the second floor at the top of the stairway. Somehow, she lost her balance and tumbled down the flight of stairs, and broke her neck.”