To Probe A Beating Heart (19 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Don’t make me laugh, it hurts . . .

Tree lined streets with houses on one acre lots, bushes and flower beds partially obscuring the view from inside the sprawling colonial homes severely hampered anyone’s ability to observe activity on the street or on the sidewalks. As Averell was cruising the streets in this quiet neighborhood he saw a young girl, that he estimated was at least ten and maybe as much as twelve years old. She was almost perfect, definitely older than the last one he had done a year earlier, at least she was taller and looked older. “I like the way this one looks.”

             
“Very nice, and maybe her name is Sarah. The hair and the eyes are right.”

             
She had blond hair and blue eyes and she was wearing a bright yellow blouse, blue denim shorts and white shoes. Candice Brighton was walking around the block with her dog in when he saw her. The time was right for another session in the barn, everything had been made ready for just this sort of encounter. As he watched her walking and talking to her dog, his pulse quickened, his palms moistened and he started to breath heavier. This one, being older, should be tougher and definitely would last longer.               “She will be harder to control, but I know that we can handle her.”

             
“Yeah, she is perfect, how are we going to do this?”

             
“We will get her at the corner, near those bushes.” He drove to the corner and got out of his SUV, leaving the door open. There were a

number of tall trees surrounded by bushes in the middle of a flower bed at
the corner making his SUV barely visible from the immediate homes. He had a piece of note paper in his hand and he was staring at the street signs when Candice approached.

              “Excuse me miss, but could you tell me where School Street is?” said Averell.

             
“Oh, I have seen it, but I don’t know where it is.” Her little dog was agitated and pulled at his leash. Candice pulled back.

             
Perfect thought Averell, as he approached her. “Do you think it would be that way,” as he pointed up the street. That distracted Candice as she looked in the direction Averell was pointing. “Or would you go that way,” he said as he was now standing next to Candice.

             
“I don’t know,” said Candice.

             
Averell put his hand on his chest and said, “Oh I have to find my mom’s new house, she is expecting me by 4:00 this afternoon and it’s already 3:45,” and he moved slightly closer to his SUV. Candice moved  with him as if magnetized and drawn toward him. Averell mumbled something and Candice came closer and said, “ Pardon me, I didn’t hear what you said.”

             
Averell saw that the time was right and he turned toward Candice,

grabbed her arm and dragged her into the SUV. Candice was startled and
screamed as she was shoved inside the vehicle. The dog was barking, but posed no threat. Averell ripped the leash from her hand and threw it out of the car.

             
“Shut up” said Averell as he turned and slapped her across the face. He pulled the door closed, grabbed a pull tie and bound her hands behind her and drove down the street slowly with the dog in pursuit. Candice was stunned, crying but did not scream again. “This will be good, it is going to be better than the last one.” He was starting to fantasize about what he could and would do.

             
As he turned on to West Road and started for the Interstate, the dog was left far behind and Candice started to fuss louder and was kicking the back of Averell’s seat. He pulled over, turned with a vicious snarl and slapped her again, then taped her hands and ankles and fastened her seat belt. “Now shut up”. He stared at her pushing his face as close to hers as he could. He was breathing hard and drool began to drip from his mouth. He turned and slowly started to move the SUV forward. When he reached the highway he turned west and headed toward Mentor and the farm beyond.

             
Candice was being difficult, she cried and would not stop. He slapped her and she cried louder. She would not stop crying. She kicked and cried, he could not control her at all. After getting into the barn, he opened the back of the SUV and pulled out a drop cloth. He placed it over a large crate and returned to the SUV. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her out of the SUV. She seemed heavier now and he wrestled her over to the large crate and tied her arms down. He cut the binding at her ankle and was removing her left shoe when she kicked as hard as she could with her right foot. The treaded heel caught Averell on the left side of his lower lip. Her kick was well placed and blood spurted across the edge of the drop cloth covering the crate and on to the floor but missed Candice completely. He spun to his right and stepped away from the crate. Blood was dripping on the floor and Averell was furious. He went to his SUV and looked in the side view mirror. His lip throbbed and was bleeding profusely. He had to adapt, to change his plan. He took a piece of cotton and a six inch piece of duct tape and closed his wound, taping the cotton in place.

             
Now for that little bitch that kicked him. His eyes were wild and angry as he picked up his knife and approached Candice. “You little bastard, I’m going to cut you apart, one piece at a time.”

             
She screamed as loud as she could, loud enough to be heard and Averell swung the knife at her face without thought. He caught her across her right eye and nose. He quickly grabbed her right arm and started to cut in a sawing motion trying to cut it off. She screamed again and Averell slashed at her face again, cutting her through the right cheek and part of the left cheek. Candice fainted and Averell finished taking off her arm. He cut off her left arm and started to poke her with the knife, making shallow punctures on her chest and stomach. She would not respond, she could not respond she could would not draw another breath. Her remaining eye was open and saw nothing. Averell stood over her staring, panting, not thinking, he was still angry and wanted to hurt her again, but she would not feel it. He wanted to scream at her again, but she would not hear it.

             
“She’s gone, and we are finished here.”

“No, no, no, I want to see more, I want to see her heart.” Averell

fell to his knees with the knife in his hand staring at Candice partially

dismembered in a pool of her own blood. “She’s gone.” He hung his head
and allowed the knife to drop to the floor.

             
“We should clean up now.”

“Yes, yes, yes, we have to clean up, stick to the program, clean up and
get rid of her.” He raised his head and slowly stood all of a sudden realizing that his lip hurt and was still bleeding. He knew that he had to have his lip looked at, probably stitched. He picked up her arms and threw them on top of her and rolled her up in the drop cloth.

             
“I should throw her away in the trash,” he was breathing heavy as he bent and picked up the knife.

             
“No, no we should be patient,”
said Stelian.

             
“You’re right, we will bury her as planned and get back to Buffalo or better to Rochester and get this lip fixed.”

             
Averell scanned the barn and started picking up the tools and put

them away. He was still angry. He went into the house to the shower and
turned it on. He paced back and forth in front of the shower, cursing under his breath. As he calmed, he stepped into the shower and rinsed the blood off his body and rinsed the clothes. He repeated the process only once and dried himself off then he dressed and returned to the barn.

             
“Damn it, this was no good, the little bitch kicked me, pissed me off, it was over before we had a chance to get started, before we could do it the way we wanted.” He was absolutely furious.

             
“We picked a bad one, didn’t we?”
said Stelian.

             
“Yes, we did, this was no fun. Now we have to get rid of her and she wasn’t worth it. I just want to throw her away, in a damn land fill.”

             
“No, Averell, we have to put her where she will not be found.”

             
“The cemetery?”

             
“Yes, I think the cemetery is the perfect place for her.”

             
He drove out the driveway and started for the Alton Memorial Park, the cemetery that he used for Annette. On the way he passed a police car on the side of the road writing a ticket. “Too close to the cemetery,” he said.

             
“You’re right,”
said Stelian,
“But we have an alternate.”

“I know, that’s where I am now heading,” and he turned at the next
light and drove a few miles south. “I’m trying to remember what time the service was scheduled for this one. The other one was at noon and this one was half past noon as I recall. So they should be finished by now or damn close to it.”

             
Spring Hill Cemetery was his first choice the previous year because of the contour of the land. The other cemetery, Alton Memorial Park, appeared to be smaller and he initially thought that it was going to be harder to conceal his activity. As it turned out, Alton was perfect and he wanted to use it again, but once again a police vehicle near the entrance of his first choice gave him pause and he opted for the day’s second choice, Spring Hill. This cemetery was spread over about thirty acres of rolling landscape. As with the other location, this cemetery was not tended on a full time basis. He drove in the entrance and roamed around looking for the site where today’s funeral had taken place. He saw a man driving a back hoe away from what looked to be a new grave site and heading toward a winding roadway. He saw the small pile of sod, rolled and stacked nearby. The site was in a slight valley between two small hills. He continued past the site and headed back toward the entrance. The back hoe seemed to follow him until it reached the small white building next to the chapel building and office complex. The man pulled the back hoe over a gravel driveway and parked it. Averell continued out the entrance and turned right and slowly drove to the intersection about three hundred feet away and turned right again. He drove about another hundred feet and parked across from a small office building and watched the cemetery attendant as he took a hose and was washing the dirt off the backhoe. The man went into the main building and a light came on. He was apparently doing some other work, possibly finishing the paper work for this interment. Averell once again noticed the throbbing in his lip and cursed mildly, then he said, “Luck is with us today. It’s late and this fellow will finish soon and probably go home and not do the sod until tomorrow.”

             
“We should come back in what, about an hour?”

             
“Yeah, it will be almost dark, just enough light to get this done.”

             
He drove down the road to a fast food restaurant and turned into the drive thru where he ordered a milk shake. A straw was about all his lip could handle at this point. At the pick-up window he turned his face to hide the bandage and drove back in the direction of the Cemetery. He parked in the same area and after a few minutes he saw the man drive the back hoe into the little white building, lock the doors, the get in a car and drive off. He waited for a few minutes more, sipping on his milkshake and thinking. After about five more minutes, his milkshake was history and daylight was fading. “It looks safe now,” he said.

             
“Yeah, let’s get this done and get back to business,”
said Stelian.

             
Averell drove into the cemetery, casually drove around the twisting

two lane roadway and soon found the fresh grave. He felt a little uneasy
because his success thus far had been heavily dependent on luck, and Averell did not like depending on ‘Luck’. He pointed his vehicle toward the grave site and left the lights on. He then grabbed his shovel and set to work digging.

             
After a bit,
“I’ll take a turn,”
said Stelian.

             
Averell paused and said, “Okay, your turn.” and proceeded to dig

with renewed energy until his shovel struck the concrete vault cover. This
one was flat, and clearing a spot for Candice was easily accomplished. He dragged the bags from the SUV and lowered them into the hole, then he stepped on them to make sure they were as flat as he could make them and returned the dirt to the hole. As he smoothed the top he noted that it was a little higher than when he started. He stepped on the dirt trying to compact it as much as he could then smoothed it out again. “There, done. It’s so much easier when you help.”

             
“That’s why I’m here, to help.”