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

by Tanya R. Taylor

  “Police Still Investigating Grave-robbing Incidents,” Sara repeated the headline. “Isn’t it crazy, all this grave-robbing going on?”

  “Surely is,” Mira said.

  “Who’d want to rob graves though? For what? It doesn’t make sense. Look! Here’s the pastor of that church.”

  Mira leaned in and took a peek at the article, then stretched back out again. Sara could see that she had something more pressing on her mind.

  With the cup of coffee in front of her mouth, Sara asked, “So, has Pumpkin said anything much to you since Cody showed up? I mean, as far as what she’s feeling.”

  “Not much, and you know how much of a chatterbox she usually is,” Mira replied.

  “It could be that she’s trying to sort out her feelings as much as she can on her own. When she’s ready to talk, she knows we’re here for her.”

  Mira glanced her way. “I’m sure you’re right. She’s not a little girl anymore; she’s now a teenager. I remember what that was like. Your thoughts are like a jig-saw puzzle and sometimes you have to find your way through on your own. I guess, Rosie has to understand those emotions before she can express them.”

  “I think you hit the nail on the head!” Sara replied, crossing her legs.

  Looking ahead, Mira added: “You know, the only father Rosie ever knew was Dad. Cody’s a complete stranger and as far as I’m concerned, he has no excuse for turning his back on her like that. She didn’t do anything to deserve that; no child ever could!”

  As much as she wanted to – as was her nature to smooth things over for the sake of peace – Sara realized she couldn’t find any logic in Cody’s absence. “You’re right, honey. But that’s something he’s got to live with and I can tell you, it won’t be easy now that his conscience has finally clicked in,” she said.

  Soon, Rosie appeared in the doorway.

  “Honey, you’re awake!” Mira smiled. “How was your sleep?”

  “It was okay.” Rosie rubbed her eyes.

  “Good morning, Pumpkin. Come and let me give you a great, big morning kiss,” Sara said.

  Rosie went to her grandmother, then gave her mother a hug.

  “Mom, when is Dad coming back?” she asked.

  Sara and Mira glanced at each other with modest surprise.

  “Um...I’m not sure.” Mira reached for her hand. “He said he’s here for a few days, so I suppose he’ll be back soon.”

  “Okay.” She turned to leave.

  “Honey...is there something you’d like you and me to talk about?” Mira asked.

  “Like what, Mom?” She seemed confused.

  “Like anything.”

  “You’re referring to Dad, right?”

  Mira nodded.

  Rosie thought for a moment. “I was wondering about a few things, and I was going to ask you about them,” she started, “but then I realized I need to ask the right person. You didn’t go away and leave me a long time ago; he did.”

  She then walked away.

  Mira and Sara were stunned.

  “My goodness! I always knew that child was at least a hundred years old!” Sara blurted. “To think she would’ve thought it through that way is remarkable, to say the least.”

  “And she’s absolutely right too,” Mira agreed. “There’s only so much I would’ve been able to tell her. The real answers can only come from one person.”

  “That’s for sure.” Sara got up.

  “Where are you going?”

  “My grandchild is up. I’m going to make sure she eats the breakfast I made.” She left the newspaper in the chair and headed inside.

  * * *

  The detectives stood at the grave, looking down with a baffled expression on their faces.

  A while later, along with Mary-Lou, they joined Pastor McPhee inside his office. He had just concluded a counseling session with a young, engaged couple.

  “Strange that we’d discover yet another empty grave the very day we’re supposed to go down to the station like you asked and take that polygraph test, huh?” McPhee glanced at both detectives.

  “I’d say it was definitely a surprise to be called here again for this same issue,” Saunders replied.

  Matt appeared at the door. “Miss Mary-Lou said I should come over here.”

  “Ah! Come right in, Matt.” McPhee gestured.

  Matt entered somewhat reluctantly. He had a frazzled look about him as if he hadn’t slept a wink all night, and the dark hair protruding under the rim of his gray hat, was matted.

  “These here are the detectives investigating the disturbed grave out there and the others that were robbed before you started working for the church. Detectives, this is our new Groundskeeper, Matt Alleyne.”

  “Nice to meet you, gentlemen.” Matt nodded.

  Saunders took the lead, as usual. “Mr. Alleyne, can you tell us what happened last night in the graveyard? We heard you saw something.”

  Matt quickly nodded. He was eager to tell, just as he’d told the pastor and Mary-Lou the minute they arrived at the church that morning. He repeated his account from the moment he stepped out of the shower the previous evening to the departure of the dead man who had engaged him in conversation.

  Undoubtedly, the detectives could not believe their ears. Matt’s account of ghostly activity, though more in depth and startling than that of Jason Davis’s, was nonetheless similar in nature.

  Saunders sat forward. “You’re saying, you saw a shovel digging up the grave, but no one holding the shovel? Is that what you’re telling us?”

  “Yes sirree! That’s what I’m saying. I didn’t see any body taken out of it, but when I looked, I did see that the casket was empty. Isn’t there a possibility that it was always empty though?”

  “Why would anyone bury an empty casket? Doesn’t make sense.” Hughes scoffed. “Furthermore, there’s a grave-stone there with the deceased’s name clearly engraved on it.”

  “None of it makes sense. That’s for sure,” Saunders said. “If we even consider that absurd possibility of the grave being empty from the start, we’d have to consider that for all the others.”

  “And that’s certainly not possible,” McPhee commented. “I officiated at the funerals of four of those parishioners and watched their caskets with the bodies inside lowered into their graves. There’s no way any of those caskets were empty, in my opinion. Something very strange is going on here.”

  Saunders looked at Matt. “So, after what you’ve been through, if any of that is true, why are you still here, Mister Alleyne? If it was me, I would’ve been clear out of here last night, as far away from this property as I could get.”

  Matt considered Saunders’ point of view, then answered. “The truth is, I wanted more than anything to do what you just said, but I had two reasons for staying.”

  “What are they?” Hughes asked.

  “First thing is, I didn’t know if the beer I drank last night had anything to do with any of this; then this morning when I noticed the grave like that, I knew I wasn’t hallucinating or nothing. The second reason I stayed is because I don’t have anywhere to go. I’m new to this town; left New Orleans a week ago with my georgie bundle and came here to start a new life.”

  “Why would you need to start a new life?” Saunders probed, as Mary-Lou quietly watched from the side of the room.

  Matt sighed. “My wife died a couple months ago; she lost her fight with cancer. She was the only family I had in the world; no children, no relatives, nobody. It was always just me and her. All the suffering I saw her go through, it really hit me hard, and after she passed away, I felt I needed a fresh start. Moving away seemed like a good idea.” He explained.

  “Why here?” Saunders asked.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Why did you choose this town?”

  Matt lifted his hat slightly, then re-positioned it.

  “Well, I heard of Mizpah. Low crime rate; unemployment numbers pretty low. I was sure I could land me a job in no time
and it happened that a day or so after I got here, I met Pastor McPhee at the Farmer’s Market. He handed me a tract from the church and started to speak to me about The Lord. As we talked some more...”

  “Yes, he’s right.” McPhee interjected. “As we continued to speak, I found out Matt was looking for a job and it turns out we needed a new Groundskeeper. Offered it to him on the spot and he took it.”

  “I see,” Saunders noted.

  “Do you have any leads in this case, Detective?” Mary-Lou asked, much to all of their surprise.

  Saunders shifted in her direction. “Well, we do, actually. We’re following a few leads.”

  “That’s good to know,” McPhee said. “The families of those deceased are coming by and calling almost endlessly. They are very upset, as I’m sure you’d understand.”

  “We’re getting our fair share there at the station as well,” Saunders told him.

  “Mister Alleyne, would you consent to take a polygraph test, as we just want to clear everyone who works for the church,” Saunders said.

  “A poly what?” Matt was confused.

  “A lie-detector test,” Saunders clarified.

  “Ooh! A lie-detector test, huh? No, I have no problem with that at all. When do I take it?”

  “Pastor McPhee here and Miss Rutler will be coming to the station this afternoon to take theirs. Why don’t you join them? I’m sure we can get them all done today. I’ll arrange it the minute we leave here.”

  “Oh, okay.” Matt seemed oddly excited.

  “We’ll see you all then.” Saunders stood up, and Hughes, a moment later.

  McPhee went around to walk the detectives out as Mary and Matt remained seated.

  Mary looked at Matt and smiled. He smiled back, although his was clearly forced, then Mary got up and left, humming to a familiar tune of “Sweet Caroline”. It made the very hair on his arms stand up.

  As the detectives walked to their car, Hughes said: “We have leads, huh? Pray tell, what leads are we following? Jason Davis passed his polygraph with flying colors. We’ve got nothing.”

  Saunders opened the driver’s side door. “I know, but I wasn’t about to tell them that. It wouldn’t have been the professional thing to do.”

  Hughes figured Saunders’ deception had nothing to do with professionalism, as he called it, but everything to do with embarrassment and pride. He hated for anyone to think that as smart a detective as he was, he was nowhere near solving the case.

  Saunders started the ignition and they headed down the road.

  8

  _________________

  McPhee was as relaxed as expected while Daniel Abrams, the County’s polygraph expert, readied him for the test. He sat next to a narrow, rectangular table and focused on pleasant things before any questions were asked. When the test was completed, he left without being informed of the results.

  Mary-Lou was next. She was all smiles and bubbly when she entered the polygraph room.

  She could tell Mr. Abrams was a bit agitated.

  “Is there something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am. Not at all.” Abrams was suddenly sweating and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he attached the sensors to her.

  Eventually, he was able to settle down enough and the test was underway.

  A while later, she joined Pastor McPhee who was waiting in the lobby for her. Matt was next. He got up and followed Abrams into his office. McPhee was looking intently at Abrams when he came out for Matt.

  “What’s the matter?” Mary asked McPhee.

  “The polygraph guy doesn’t look so well; does he?”

  “He probably just has a lot on his mind.”

  “He looked fine when I was in there.” He sighed. “It’s probably like you say though. He might be under some pressure. In my opinion, anything to do with Law Enforcement these days can’t be easy.”

  “I totally agree,” Mary replied.

  When Matt returned, Detective Saunders approached them. “I’d like to thank you all for coming down and agreeing to take the polygraph test,” he said.

  They were obviously waiting for him to say more.

  “I’m rather shocked to say, you all passed with flying colors.”

  McPhee grimaced. “Shocked, Detective?”

  “Perhaps, I should re-phrase that. I’m pleased that you all passed the test, but quite shocked that Mister Alleyne here did, considering the story he gave us.”

  “You see, I was telling the truth!” Matt cried.

  “I must admit, Detective, that I find it difficult to believe in ghosts or anything paranormal,” McPhee said, “but there’s obviously something going on in the graveyard that surpasses our understanding.”

  “Now, I don’t know if I’d go that far, Pastor,” Saunders replied. “I know for sure, that ghosts didn’t empty those caskets; humans did. Real, flesh and bone grave robbers. What Mister Alleyne saw the other night, cannot be the explanation for the empty graves.”

  McPhee walked off slightly as if to gather his thoughts, then turned around. “Even if flesh and bone, as you say is responsible, something more is definitely going on. These past few weeks, I’ve felt a different vibe around the church.”

  “What kind of vibe?” Saunders asked.

  “I… I don’t know.” McPhee shrugged. “Something just doesn’t feel right.”

  “It has to be because of what’s going on,” Mary-Lou chimed in. “I mean… of course, you’re going to feel a bit uneasy knowing that someone or some persons have been disturbing the final resting place of our deceased parishioners. That there alone can weigh heavily on the psyche. Don’t you think so, Detective?”

  “You’re completely right.” Saunders nodded. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Anyway, thanks again for coming. Rest assured that this case is top priority and we’ll soon get to the bottom of this.”

  “Thank you, Detective,” McPhee said.

  “Y’all drive safely, ya hear?”

  “We will,” Mary-Lou smiled.

  The three walked off and headed back to church.

  * * *

  At five o’clock, Matt finished removing weeds that had sprung up around the grave of Frank Tattamont – 1894- 1970. Matt took special care in ensuring that even if no one visited the grave sites, the dead would know that he acknowledged them and that he cared. He often thought of his beloved wife’s grave and how he wanted it to be treated with care by the Groundskeeper back in New Orleans’ public cemetery.

  Kneeling down at the tombstone and taking a good look at Frank Tattamont’s date of birth and date of death reminded Matt about how fleeting life really is. Although Frank clearly lived a long life, Matt wondered if it was a good life; one that was meaningful. Did he leave a good legacy for his kids, if there were any? Was he a good guy? Each time Matt saw the dates on the tombstones, he wondered about the person’s life. He also wondered about his own life – what people will ultimately say about him; if he had touched anyone’s heart in a really positive way. He knew, one day, someone else might be dusting off his tombstone, looking at the dates inscribed thereon and wondering what type of person he was. Matt was quickly realizing that working in the field of the dead was beginning to bring much more meaning to his existence.

  After leaving Frank’s grave, Matt headed indoors for the evening. He made sure to bring a Bible out of the sanctuary to keep in the cottage right next to his bed.

  9

  _________________

  “Ma, you want some hot chocolate tonight?” Theresa asked Jane, who was in bed watching an episode of her favorite action series.

  “That would be nice. Thanks.” Jane’s eyes were fixated on the TV screen.

  Dressed in pajamas, Theresa went to get the kettle going. Glancing through the kitchen window, she observed the little cottage in the church yard with the porch light on. She always wondered how anyone could stomach living in a graveyard, as living next to one was bad enough.

  A few minute
s later, she handed her mother the hot chocolate.

  “Thanks, T,” Jane said.

  “I’m going to bed now.” Theresa yawned. “See you in the morning.”

  Around midnight, Jane fluffed her pillow and switched off the television. She turned on her side, slid her hand under her cheek and in minutes, was asleep. The house was finally silent and very little moonlight entered in through the curtains.

  Theresa was already halfway around the world on an imaginary cruise when she was suddenly awakened by a loud, scratching sound. Wondering if the intrusion was a facet of her dream, she lay in bed with eyes wide open and waited to see if she’d hear the sound again… and seconds later, she did. Looking to the left, she sat up in bed, and since there was approximately a foot in distance between the window and her bed, she remained seated while pulling back the curtain. Instantly, a face popped up on the other side of the window – a young man staring back at her with his round face pressed against the glass. With her heart suddenly pounding, Theresa jerked back.

  He raised his hand and waved. The man appeared to be between eighteen and twenty years of age; his hair was dark and ruffled and his face looked two-toned – some dark, blotchy parts and other areas slightly lighter. His eyes were white and clear.

  Staring back, Theresa was unsure if what she was seeing was real or a figment of her imagination.

  The man blew on the glass which caused it to fog up, then Theresa watched in fear as he wrote something on the window with his finger.

  May I come in? He scribbled.

  Theresa shook her head vehemently.

  This can’t be real, she thought. There’s no way!

  She squeezed her eyelids shut, then before daring to look at the window again, she prayed earnestly that nothing was there. Opening her eyes, she discovered the words were gone, but the man was still gazing at her.