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

by Tanya R. Taylor

  “What’s the matter?” Cindy was concerned.

  “Snakes! Snakes are in my car!” Belinda was standing a good ten feet away from her car.

  “What?” Cindy’s eyes widened with shock.

  “I found snakes in my frigging car!” she repeated.

  Cindy hurried over to her. “How did they get in there?” she asked.

  “How the hell am I supposed to know? I just want them out!”

  Wanda was now standing on the front steps looking out at Belinda with a subtle smile on her face. She always wanted to see the overgrown baby suffer.

  “Wanda! Go get Jimmy from the back!” Cindy exclaimed. “He’ll get them out.”

  “Your maintenance guy?” Belinda asked Cindy.

  “Yeah. He’s not scared of anything. Bravest man I know—even braver than Charlie.”

  Jimmy arrived in the parking lot shortly thereafter with a white bucket in one hand and a long tree limb in the other.

  “I hear there’s snakes in your car, lady,” he said to Belinda.

  Jimmy was a slim, straggly-haired man in his early fifties, the sight of which would make some people cringe with distrust, particularly if he appeared from out of nowhere on a dark, deserted road. Yet, he was the typical example of why one should never judge a book by its cover. Though he could pass for being homeless, the man had amassed a decent fortune through hard work on a miniscule salary over the course of three decades. He’d been working for Cindy for the past five years after retiring from a government department as a maintenance worker.

  “Yeah! They’re in there!” Belinda pointed, rather annoyingly.

  “Well, let’s go get ‘em out then!”

  “Let’s?” Belinda gave him a menacing stare.

  He backed off towards the car. “I meant me.”

  He peered through the driver’s side window first, then moved over to the back door.

  “Wow! You surely have a whole community of snakes in there!”

  “You call two a community?” Belinda scoffed.

  With his head pressed against the window, Jimmy said, “I ain’t no mathematician, but I know how to count. You’ve got at least a dozen slitherers in here. Come see for yourself.”

  Alarmed, Belinda glanced at Cindy, while Wanda continued observing from the front of the parlor.

  “Are you kidding me?” Belinda asked.

  Cindy walked over to the car and looked through the window next to where Jimmy was.

  “He’s not kidding, B,” she said. “They’re crawling all over your car, even the back seat.”

  Belinda suddenly felt faint; her heart beating wildly.

  She went over and looked through the front window. “My God!” she whispered.

  “Anyway, ladies. Now that you’ve seen what we’re working with, let me get these good ole boys outta here and back into the bushes where they belong.”

  Belinda quickly returned to her previous spot and Cindy joined her. Jimmy put his bucket down near the tire and opened the back door. He then reached inside with his tree branch and calmly extracted the snakes one by one, dropping them into the bucket. Belinda inwardly squirmed at the sight of the reptiles and even turned away for a while as Jimmy proceeded.

  “These boys are harmless, little lady,” he said as he peeked under the seats to ensure he’d gotten all out.

  “What do you mean by harmless?” Belinda said, looking his way again.

  “These are hognose snakes, if I’m lookin’ right. They wouldn’t have done nothin’ to you other than give you a good scare by just being themselves.” He grinned.

  “What’s so funny?” She glared at him.

  “You must’ve really pissed someone off for them to put snakes in your car. You’re lucky they didn’t choose a rattler or some other kind that wouldda done you in nice and good.”

  He shut the car doors, picked up the bucket full of snakes and headed to the backyard.

  “You sure you got them all out?” Belinda hollered.

  “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have closed your car doors, lady.”

  “Thank you, Jimmy!” Cindy called out behind him.

  Continuing on, he raised his left hand. “Welcome!”

  Wanda shook her head.

  “Are you okay?” Cindy rested her hand on Belinda’s arm.

  “No! I’m not okay!”

  “Maybe you should call someone to come meet you…”

  “No, I can drive. I hate to go back inside that car, but I can.”

  “I hope you find out who did this, B. It’s a terrible thing they’ve done. You could’ve ended up in an accident if you didn’t spot them before you drove off,” Cindy said.

  Belinda sighed heavily. “I have no idea who would be stupid enough to do this. I… I thought I locked my car.”

  Cindy gave her a reprimanding look. “We all know you hardly ever lock your car in the daytime, B. You were easy prey.”

  “I’d better go now; I’ll see you later, Cindy.” She headed for the car, when suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. “Wait! Get Jimmy back here!”

  “What’s the matter?” Cindy asked.

  “He didn’t check the bloody trunk!”

  Cindy sighed. “I’ll go check. I’m sure he’s still getting rid of those snakes out back.”

  They both walked over to the car and opening the driver’s door, Belinda looked inside to see if the coast was clear, then reluctantly reached on the side of the driver’s seat and popped the trunk. As Cindy carefully checked the trunk for any signs of snakes, Belinda stooped down and peered underneath the seats and even inspected the glove and armrest compartments. The car’s engine was still running.

  “Nothing’s back here!” Cindy cried.

  Belinda breathed a sigh of relief and sat behind the steering wheel.

  “You’re all set now?” Cindy approached the driver’s side door.

  “Yeah. Thanks, Cindy.”

  “Okay. Drive safely then and please be careful out there. Remember to lock your doors whenever you leave the car again.”

  “I will.” Belinda shut the door, reversed out of the parking spot, then pulled off.

  7

  _________________

  Belinda was furious as she drove. “Would you believe someone put about a dozen snakes in my car!” she yelled into her cell phone.

  “Are you freaking serious!” John replied. He was speaking with his sister from the comfort of his large, exquisite downtown office. “Who did that to you?”

  “I don’t know!” She raised both hands, momentarily forgetting about the steering wheel.

  “They must really hate your guts!” He chuckled.

  “This isn’t funny, John! If I’d pulled off not knowing those snakes were in my car, I’d probably be in the morgue right now.”

  His laughter died off.

  “That’s terrible, Belinda. You’d better learn to keep your car doors locked from now on. I don’t know why you’re too lazy to do it anyway. For goodness’ sake, it’s just a click of the remote or a simple turn of the key.”

  “It has nothing to do with laziness, John,” she rebutted. “I just never felt I’d be out of the car long enough for anyone to have a chance to steal anything, and furthermore, I never leave my purse in the car.”

  “We went over this before, Belinda. Good crooks can nab a car stereo in under three minutes flat.”

  “Yeah, I hear you. Anyway, gotta go. I’m headed over to Marva’s place now. I need a stiff drink.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

  They hung up.

  Belinda called Rachelle next and told her what had happened. The entire drive, she kept glancing to the right in case another reptile appeared from out of nowhere.

  * * * *

  John took the last sip of his now lukewarm coffee, picked up his presentation folder and headed for the conference room. Tomorrow would be a big day for Trudant Consulting Services since Stanley Lee, CEO of the largest truck manufacturing company in the regio
n was going to personally show up for the highly anticipated presentation. Lee’s acceptance of the proposal would increase Trudant’s financial standing by a cool 3.8 million dollars over the course of the ensuing six months and simultaneously, John would land a substantial bonus for making it all happen. He was the firm’s golden boy, having secured many lucrative deals within the past twelve years of him being a leading financial and marketing analyst. Closing Lee’s deal would better position him on easy street—a prospect which managed to keep him up until early hours of the morning working out the details.

  John was about to unveil the finished product to Trudant’s managing director, Allen Nolan, and four other partners before the big meeting scheduled for the following morning. Everything had to be just right since Lee was one of their biggest clients.

  John grinned to himself as his mind flashed on the story Belinda had told him. “Snakes! Someone must really hate her guts; that’s for sure.” He made a left at the end of the corridor into the conference room.

  * * * *

  9:45 PM…

  Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Rachelle swallowed a blue sleeping pill with a tall glass of water. Her eyes heavy, lack of sleep from the night before had begun to take its toll on her.

  She heard the TV in Steve’s room and assumed her son was still awake. She’d felt on edge all that day and knew she had to get some sleep if she was going to be able to function the next day. There was still so much to do. She’d taken a three-week vacation, intending to clear out of the apartment and move back home to her parents’ house before she was due back to work. However, she was beginning to wonder if making the transition was what she really wanted to do, after all.

  She tucked back a strand of hair from her face and slowly shook her head. In her mind, the reflection looking back at her in the mirror was nothing more than the shell of a hopeless, needy woman who felt she must pretend with almost everyone simply because she was afraid that being real would not be good enough for them—at least for those she held in high regard. Maybe Belinda was right, she thought. Rachelle was aware of how badly her sister talked about her to everyone they knew; not doing it just behind her back, but right in front of her. Belinda didn’t care and although Rachelle hated her for it, at the same time, she felt she needed her sister in order to feel like she wasn’t completely worthless. In her view, Belinda was a resounding success; in a nutshell—everything she wished she was, particularly since she had lots of cash and so many things Rachelle didn’t have. It didn’t matter how Belinda got them. Just hanging around her made Rachelle feel like she counted for something, even if it was nothing much.

  She shut the door of the medicine cabinet and walked across the hallway toward her bedroom. Just before arriving at the door, she heard the pitter-patter of feet, like that of a little child, then seconds later, a hearty giggle.

  “Who’s there?” She peered down the hallway.

  Following the sound, Rachelle advanced toward the living room and flipped on the light switch. Her eyes worriedly scanned the room, but she saw no one. Determined to find whomever was in her home, she checked the kitchen, even the lower cabinets since they were large enough to fit a small child. She looked around the dining room and checked the locks on the front and side doors. Everything was intact. Suddenly, there was silence, other than the sound emanating from Steve’s TV.

  “Maybe it was all the TV.” She tried to convince herself. Massaging the nape of her neck, she switched off all the lights and headed back to her room.

  Inside the bedroom felt unusually cold and Rachelle pulled the covers over her chest. The effect of the sleeping pill was finally setting in and she welcomed the thought of drifting into a deep, restful sleep.

  Minutes later, Steve turned off his television and the apartment stood in complete silence.

  Three hours later…

  A shrilling scream pierced the darkness which caused Steve to spring up out of bed and run to his mother’s room. Flipping on the light, he was startled to find her sitting up in bed with eyes as wide as golf balls. She looked like she’d literally seen a ghost. Her face was so pale it appeared as if every drop of blood had been drained out of it. Without a second thought, he hurried over to her.

  “What happened, Mom?”

  “He’s here! He’s here!” she replied, staring straight ahead.

  “Who’s here?” Steve pressed.

  She looked at him and uttered softly, “Dad. He’s here.”

  Steve couldn’t believe his ears. “Granddad is not here, Mom. He can’t be…he’s dead. We talked about this yesterday!”

  “You’re wrong,” she answered. “I saw him with my own two eyes. He called out to me again and asked when I’m coming to see him. I saw his silhouette right over there near the dresser.” She pointed. “He told me I’m going to die. He insisted on it and started describing how gruesome it’s going to be. I was so scared!”

  Steve had an idea. He went and looked inside the closet, then knelt down and peered under the bed. “Wait right here, Mom. Don’t move!” he said.

  He left the room, deciding to thoroughly check the apartment to ensure there was no intruder his mother had mistaken for her dad. But first, he hurried to his room and grabbed the baseball bat from the side of his bed. Steve checked everywhere he could think of as well as each of the main doors. When he returned to his mother’s room minutes later, she was still in bed.

  “Did you see him?’ she asked, hopefully.

  He shook his head. “There’s no one here.”

  He was convinced that whatever his mother claimed to have seen and heard were all inside of her head. He sat down next to her.

  “Mom, what would it take for you to believe that Granddad is dead—which means that he cannot be here in this house with us?”

  She shook her head with tears in her eyes. “You don’t understand. I should’ve gone and seen him. Now, he’s upset with me because…like a bad child…I abandoned him. I abandoned my own father!”

  Steve held her as she wept. “It’s okay, Mom. Granddad would never hold that against you and he’d never tell you the horrible things you said you heard. You know that.”

  “He’s upset, Steve. Believe me—he’s really upset! I have to make it right, and maybe the only way to do that now is to…die.”

  He looked at her intently. “That’s nonsense! Do you hear what you’re saying?”

  She quickly nodded. “Yes, I do! You haven’t seen what I have nor heard what I’ve heard. I have to make this right!”

  At that point, Steve seriously feared for his mother’s safety—not at the hands of someone else—but her own.

  8

  _________________

  The following morning -- 6:45 A.M.

  John was already dressed with his briefcase in hand when he entered the kitchen. Pam was still in her nightgown making a cup of tea.

  Squeezing the teabag, she asked, “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee before you leave, John?”

  “No, thanks.” He snatched a bagel from her plate. “Gotta run. Big day!”

  “Okay. Do well.”

  He dashed out of the house and shortly thereafter, Pam heard tires skid out of the yard. She sat down near the window overlooking the flower garden and sipped her tea. Visually taking in the beauty which stood before her, she thought of how her life paled in comparison and she wondered what on earth her purpose was. She and John had been married for so long, yet, were more like roommates, instead of lovers with no children to call their own. He’d found pleasure in his work and accomplishments, but what did she have to show—other than a closet full of clothes and shoes, and every Loius Vuitton bag she couldn’t bear to resist? She’d given up her teaching job because John thought it didn’t quite fit their social status. It was clear that the only person who ever got his way in their marriage was John; a man who seemed to cringe at the very thought of even touching her. It was not that way in the beginning and no amount of questioning over the years produce
d a satisfactory answer for her. Giving up and becoming numb after a while seemed the best solution for her sanity. However, as her birthday was fast approaching, a mere two months away, she wasn’t so sure that existing instead of living was acceptable anymore.

  * * * *

  During his morning commute, John felt like he was on top of the world. In his mind, he’d already counted and invested the huge bonus he was about to receive once Trudant’s top client, Lee, accepted the deal that he’d managed to make very attractive.

  He’d donned his favorite royal blue silk coat suit, same colored socks to match and a pair of shiny dress shoes he’d worn only once before. John neither expected nor required any assistance from his wife getting dressed for work that day or any other, for that matter. He’d kept up to date with the latest fashions for professional men and also for women—since it was vital that Pam always looked fabulous whenever she’d ventured outside of their home. After all, she was representing him.

  He pulled into the parking space which bore his name, then retrieved his briefcase from the passenger seat before exiting his cherished, black Mercedes Benz. Trudant’s Consulting Services, a peach trimmed white five-storey edifice stood in the center of downtown Mizpah. John had always felt a great sense of pride whenever he arrived at work since Trudant’s employees on average were among the best paid in the country. The company had awarded him financial security and various perks he’d become accustomed to.

  “Good morning, Mister Reed!” Cathy Baker, John’s secretary, entered his office moments after he’d walked in.

  He’d rested his briefcase on the desk and was about to retrieve some files. “Good morning, Cathy. The meeting starts in a half hour. Did you get my email with the latest file for the presentation?”