Wicked Little Saints

by Tanya R. Taylor

  Mira nodded. “I see that in order to get there from Highway 60, one would encounter a lot of rough terrain not easily accessible—but accessible, nonetheless. That’s why no one would’ve thought to travel that route for the missing kids. It wouldn’t have made sense, considering the circumstances.”

  “So, how exactly did you two get there? We’ve heard some crazy stories from the kids. Don’t know what to believe. You didn’t take a helicopter or anything, did you?”

  Barns quickly glanced at Mira who shook her head. “No, we didn’t. It’s a mystery as to how we found it, but you know what you have to do to get up there.”

  Paige was struck by Mira’s insight and though keen for more details, was impressed by her poise. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she said.

  “What?” Barns asked.

  “In a couple of days you two did what law enforcement couldn’t do in three years.”

  “It’s all Doctor Cullen here,” Barns replied. “Without her, none of those kids would be home today with their families and neither would our Priscilla.” He looked appreciatively at Mira.

  Paige smiled. “Well, then, both of you have a safe trip. Thank you for doing what it took to bring those children home again, and I assure you, we’ll find Alan Wales and Ruth King, if it’s the last thing we do.”

  * * * *

  Three days later, police converged on the deserted compound in question and found Rosetta Gotlieb’s decomposing body on the floor of the “holy” shed.

  Alan Wales and Sister Ruth King’s lifeless bodies were seen floating in the nearby pond. The skeletal remains also discovered in the pond were determined to be that of Trinika Sampson, Head of the English Department at Apex Christian School. The autopsy revealed her cause of death was due to a clean severing of the carotid arteries in an act of decapitation. Her head was never found.

  As for Wales and King, their cause of death was marked undetermined.

  It remains a mystery to this day.

  ~ The End ~

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  PROLOGUE

  It was a day and age much like today where every town, generation and household held firmly its secrets—torrid improprieties they would protect to the end of the world. Yet some secrets back then were far too shocking and disturbing to contain—ones entangled with emotions of such intensity that would shock the very life out of 'innocent', reserved folk.

  The year was 1861. The town of Mizpah was on the verge of the abolition of slavery. White people with a conscience and black folk alike prayed and fought long and hard for the day when all human beings were considered equal in the eyes of the law.

  Cornelius Ferguson, only the wealthiest planter in all of Mizpah, didn't support the views of the abolitionist movement in that territory nor in any other for that matter. Negro labor was highly favorable for his pockets and he couldn't imagine conducting his plantation affairs by any other means.

  June 12th of 1861 was the day his life would forever change. It was the day a colored girl by the name of Karlen Key walked through his door. She was beautiful, literate, well-spoken—a rare breed and long-awaited trade off from another planter across the river. Cornelius had been anticipating her arrival. Germina, a rotund, elderly house slave with a few long strands protruding from her chin, met Karlen at the door and showed her where to put her tattered bag. Cornelius stood thirty feet away in the great room facing the entrance way, highly pleased and mesmerized by the new addition to his household. Karlen's eyes met his for a brief moment before she quickly lowered her head, made a slight bow and greeted her master. The twenty-one-year-old had no idea that her arrival at the Ferguson plantation would alter the course of her life and those around her in a most uncanny way.

  1

  _________________

  Summer of 1965

  "Wade! Mira!" Sara Cullen called her kids from outside the kitchen door. "Time to come inside and get yourselves cleaned up for dinner!"

  Fourteen-year-old, Wade and thirteen-year-old, Mira were in the road playing 'bat and ball' in front of their yard with Monique Constantakis and her cousin Philip. Mira had just swung the bat for her turn to run the bases.

  "Let's go!" Wade shouted to his sister as she considered one last run before heading inside. "If you don't come now, I'm leaving you and you'll be in big trouble with Dad." On that, he took off up to the driveway of their home and Mira, with a tinge of disappointment, handed the bedraggled, semi-splintered bat to Monique who was standing behind her.

  "See you later," Monique said, visibly disappointed that her new friend had to leave.

  "Yeah," Mira said before heading up the driveway behind her brother who had disappeared into the house.

  The table, as usual, had been beautifully set for dinner. Sara Cullen was a true perfectionist and wanted everything to be just right when her husband of fifteen years, Michael, stepped into the dining room for his meal. She worshipped the dirt the man walked on and kept herself in the finest physical shape she could possibly manage. She was five feet, ten inches tall, and remarkably thin. Her hair was long, black and curly, and her features narrow. Michael Cullen was not the most attractive man in the world, but he carried big, broad shoulders and a six-pack most men would die for. Furthermore, he collected a handsome paycheck at the end of each week, lived in a nice neighborhood, and sported a two-year-old red Jaguar. Nevertheless, Sara—Head Nurse at Freedom Hospital—could not be accused of being with him solely for his money or his executive status at the State-run Gaming Board. They had met fresh out of high school when all they had ahead of them were nothing more than dreams and aspirations.

  Mira sat at the table first though Wade had been the first to wash up.

  "Wade! Where are you?!" Sara cried, as she hurried around placing the remaining items on the table. The boy showed up moments later.

  "Where were you all that time?" Sara asked. "You know I like both of you to be seated before I call your dad out."

  "I had to… brush my hair." Wade lowered his head slightly.

  "That's a lie!" Mira blurted with a wide smile. "He had to use the toilet!"

  "Liar!" Wade rebutted.

  "You had to use the toilet! You had to use the toilet!" Mira sang.

  "Now stop it - both of you!" Sara barked. "This is no time for games... and wipe that smile off your face Mira; I'm not playing!"

  "Yes, Mother," Mira softly replied.

  The children composed themselves and waited patiently for their father who emerged a few minutes later from the master bedroom.

  "Kids…" Michael hailed straight-faced as he sat down.

  Both children responded monotonically, "Hi, Dad."

  Sara joined them moments later.

  As was customary for the family, they all bowed their heads at the sound of Michael's utterance, "Let us pray" before diving into their meals.

  From her chair, Mira watched as her mother talked and talked to her father while he engaged very little in the conversation. It was like that all the time and Mira was beginning to wonder why her mother even tried. What Sara saw in Michael that was so appealing and attractive totally eluded Mira. Michael was a brutally rigid man who, in his daughter's opinion, always seemed to wish he was somewhere else other than at home.

  "May I be excused?" Mira asked fifteen minutes later, wanting to escape the drab, depressive atmosphere of the room.

  "But you hardly
touched your casserole," Sara said, noticing for the first time that her daughter had barely eaten.

  "I'm not hungry."

  "Are you all right, honey?" Sara asked, as Michael continued his meal supposedly unaffected.

  "Yes, Mom. I just feel a bit tired and would like to lie down," Mira replied.

  "You may leave," Michael said, not making eye contact.

  "Well then…" Sara continued, "I'll cover your plate for you in case you get hungry before bedtime."

  "Thanks Mom." Mira backed out from the table and retreated to her bedroom.

  Approximately a half hour later, there was a light tap at the bedroom door. The doorknob turned slowly, then Sara walked in. "Are you all right?" She asked Mira who was curled up in bed with a Sherlock Holmes mystery.

  "Sure." Mira sat up as her mother proceeded to the side of the bed.

  She felt her daughter's forehead with the back of her hand. "No fever. That's good. Are you sure you're okay?" The look she gave was a combination of suspicion and concern.

  "Yes. I'm really fine, Mom. I just wasn't hungry; that's all—I guess from all that running around earlier."

  "I see." Sara got up. "Well, like I said… if you get hungry later, your food is right there covered in the refrigerator. Wouldn’t want you going to bed empty only to wake up all gassy in the morning."

  Mira smiled. Her mother reached down and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, sweet pea."

  "I love you too, Mom."

  2

  _________________

  "You wanna go by the canal today?" Wade asked Mira at the kitchen counter. An early riser, he had been up for well over an hour, but she had just gotten out of bed.

  "Dad said we can't go back there—you know that," Mira answered, cracking an egg over a bowl.

  "He's not here. Mom's not here. They don't have to know," Wade replied. "We can get our fishing rods, some bait, and maybe this time, we'll actually catch something."

  "I don't know… the last time we got caught out there we almost got a good whipping. Dad's hand was itching. Luckily, he let us off the hook with a warning. Off the hook… got it?"

  "Look! They're both at work. We'll only be gone for a few hours and will be back long before they get here. They'll never know, so we're not risking anything." Wade was adamant.

  "I don't know, Wade," Mira said, pouring a little cream into the bowl with her egg.

  "Why are you so scared?" Wade asked. "We've been to the canal dozens of times and only got caught that one time when dad pulled up out of nowhere. You think he's gonna drive all the way home from work today on a sneaky suspicion that we're at the canal again and bust us for not listening? Come on, Mira!"

  "Okay, okay. We can go after I've had my breakfast. I suppose you've eaten already?" Mira asked.

  "Yeah. I'm cool. I'll go pack the gear."

  The canal was less than a block away. It usually took the kids a mere four minute walk to get there. Mira, dressed in a yellow and white striped blouse and red shorts walked quickly behind her brother, inwardly hoping and praying that their father would not pull up and surprise them while they were on the way to the 'forbidden place'.

  "We need to walk faster," Mira said, now over-taking her brother. Wade silently caught up with her and in no time, they were at their favorite spot.

  The canal was the only one in their neighborhood. It extended miles out to the sea. Several gated houses with boat decks surrounded it, except for a fifty-foot open area that was partially clear due to low, sparse bushes and a padded, gravel area kept in check by occasional vehicles driving through.

  Mira sat down at the edge of the canal, her feet dangling against its rocky structure. Wade got the fishing rods ready before sitting next to her. He handed Mira a rod with bait attached and threw his out into the not-so-shallow water. For a while, they just sat there looking out into the water at tiny schools of fish swimming around.

  "What's on your mind?" Wade asked, still looking straight ahead.

  "What do you mean?" Mira glanced at him.

  "You're so quiet. What're you thinking about?"

  "Nothing."

  "You're the one lying now," Wade said.

  "How can you say that I'm lying? Are you inside my brain, Wade Cullen?" Mira returned feistily.

  "It's Mom and Dad, isn't it?"

  Mira looked at him. "How do you know?"

  "I know what's been going on. I can see it was getting to you. That's why you left the table yesterday, right?"

  For a few moments, there was silence, then Mira finally answered: "I don't understand why Mom tries so hard to please Dad. It's not like he shows her he appreciates anything she does anyway."

  "We've never known Dad to be a talkative person, Mira. He doesn't say much to us neither," Wade replied.

  Again… there were a few moments of silence.

  "I think his actions go beyond not being much of a talker, Wade. Dad can be so cold at times. I feel so bad for Mom when I see her trying so hard to please him all the time and he doesn't seem to be giving anything back to her. It's like she's in a relationship all by herself."

  "Mom's used to Dad. They're just different people. She doesn't seem to mind when she's talking to him and it's obvious that he's not even listening. If she's not bothered by it, why should you let it bother you?"

  "Because she's our mother, Wade. That's why. She deserves better than that," Mira answered.

  "Better than Dad?"

  "I think so."

  Wade was shocked that his sister's feelings about the matter were that intense. "What are you trying to say, Mira—that Dad's not good enough for Mom? Don't you love him?"

  "Sure I do. I love them both, but I can tell that Mom's not happy. She pretends that she is because she lives in this ‘perfect world’ that she's created in her head."

  Wade's eyes were on the water again. "I think I feel something…" he said moments later. "Yes! I got a bite!" He reeled in the rod as quickly as he could while Mira's eyes beamed at the prospect of him making a good catch. By then, they were both standing and watching an average-sized snapper wiggle its streamlined body on the hook.

  "Yay! We got one!" Mira exclaimed.

  Wade unhooked the fish and dumped it into their mother's mini cooler.

  "That's a good one," Mira said, watching the fish flop around in the cooler.

  "Yeah. Let's see if we can catch anymore."

  They both sat back down and re-tossed their fishing rods after Wade baited his again.

  A half hour passed and there was nothing. Wade could now sense Mira's restlessness. "You wanna wait a little while longer to see if we'll get another bite?" He asked.

  "Na. Let's not push our luck," Mira said. "We got a fish. Let's go fry it."

  After turning onto their street, Mira's eyes hit the large property straight ahead at the end of the corner. "You wanna go see if any dillies are on the trees? We can eat them with our fish," she said excitedly.

  "The Ferguson property?" Wade asked.

  "Yeah."

  Since they would have to go past their house in order to get there, Wade said, "Okay. Let me take the cooler inside first."

  Mira waited in the western side of the yard that was adjacent to the road. She was so relieved that the canal trip went well and was eager to season and fry the fish they had caught.

  "Let's go," Wade appeared a minute later with an empty, plastic bag balled up in his hand. "Wanna race there?"

  "Sure. Now!" Mira took off on her brother unexpectedly and knowing he had been duped, Wade ran with all his might to try and catch up to her. Mira had almost made it first to the edge of the Ferguson property before Wade's long legs finally caught up to her and overtook her. He was going so fast that he could barely cut his speed sufficiently before nearly slamming into the huge coconut tree directly in front of him. Mira laughed as she panted to catch her breath.

  "You cheater!" Wade said after slumping under the tree.

  "Don't blame me if I almost beat you
here," Mira replied. "You always boast about being able to run faster than I can."

  "Are you serious?!" Wade was flabbergasted. "I can run faster than you! Didn't I prove it again just now—even though you cheated, you little pipsqueak?!"

  Mira advanced onto the large acreage and looked up at the dillies hanging temptingly from the large, outstretched tree branches of one of many trees that clustered the property. The Ferguson estate was comprised of approximately sixty acres of land which took up most of the road east to west, extending northwardly to the edge of another neighborhood. Wade and Mira had not walked even a good two acres of the land since they were old enough to 'explore'.

  "This one's packed. You wanna climb?" Mira asked her brother. Wade was the official tree-climber of the pair since Mira was terrified of heights.

  Wade got up off the ground holding his back like a man far beyond his years. "Okay. You know the drill," he said, handing her the bag.

  As Wade climbed the tree, Mira readied the bag so that he could drop the dillies into it. In seconds, he was at arm's length from the nearest tree branch. It was laden with mostly semi-ripe dillies. "I'm gonna start dropping now!" He cried.

  Mira opened the bag as widely as possible and positioned herself directly under her brother as he dropped the fruit one by one. As usual, the bag had missed a few of them and Mira was bending down picking up the ones that had fallen without bursting on impact.

  "You can't run and you can't catch!" Wade laughed in the tree as he deliberately dropped some of the dillies while she was still stooping down to pick up the others.

  "You're stupid for dropping them, Wade. You're really immature!" She snarled.