Chapter Twenty-Five.

He decided to do something a little bit different with this one, throw the cops off more. He got the body into the bathroom, dumping her in the tub. He had a box of blade knives sitting on the counter. Taking one out, he turned to the body and began to cut her open.

He was very careful, cutting most of the blood vessels to the organs before gently lifting them out of her body. He had decided he would leave these pieces around the city, maybe all around the courthouse and the police departments. He was amused with that thought. After taking out the liver, kidneys, stomach and lungs, he went on to take out the smaller pieces, her ovaries, gall bladder and the pancreas. He had set out several plates on the bathroom counter, and the organs filled them all. There wasn't much blood, it had all sunk to the lowest part of her body, and she had been lying downstairs for the last few days.

With a needle and thread, he stitched the skin back together. He left one small hole in the stomach, holding it open with a small plastic tube. Turning on the shower, he rinsed the body off carefully, making sure none of the water got inside the body cavity. Moving her out of the tub, he scrubbed the tub and shower areas thoroughly.

He lifted the corpse up and carried her into the garage. Dumping it on the floor, he looked to the wall on the other side of the car. There was a roll of gardening plastic there and he unrolled a sheet and tore it off. Opening the trunk of his car, he laid a piece of plastic down before setting the body in on top of it. He didn't want and of the carpet fibers from the trunk accidentally sticking to the body, if there was much of a body left by the time she was found.

He picked up the small, red plastic gasoline can from the floor as well, and put it in the trunk, wedged in tightly next to the carcass so it wouldn't move around or spill. He looked around the garage one last time to see if there was anything else he might need, or could bring with him to help dispose of her.

He slammed the trunk door shut and took the keys out of his pocket. It was nearly dark outside and by the time he drove out to the place he had chosen, it would be full dark. His only concern would be the light from the flames; the darkness would cover the smoke and hide it. He was reasonably sure that the place he had picked out would be well hidden from any eyes; it was in a wooded area up in the West Hills where the houses were far apart.

Sitting in the car, he opened the garage door with the opener. He pulled out quickly, before the door was even completely open. As he backed down the driveway, he pushed the button again, closing it. Winding his way through several residential streets, he made his way over to the highway that would take him up to the St Johns Bridge. He turned at the traffic signal just past the bridge, and then turned again onto Germantown Road. The twists and turns were tight; he could hardly get going up the hill before he had to slow down for the hairpin curves. He made it up in just over five minutes, and then turned right on Skyline Boulevard. He checked the numbers on the odometer; the turn he wanted to take was exactly three point four miles from the intersection.

He found it easily, and turned down the narrow unpaved road. He drove carefully down the side of the hill, until he found the tiny clearing. He picked up the flashlight sitting on the passenger seat and stepped out of the car. From where he stood, he couldn't see any lights from houses or cars. The trees were thick here, it was a good place. He shined the light around, looking for the supplies he had left the last time he had been here. There were two black tarps, and a box of nails to attach them to the trees to hide what he was doing. He did that before going to the car for the corpse.

He popped he trunk open and took out the gas can, setting it on the ground. Then he grabbed the legs and dragged her out. Setting her on the ground face up, he went back for the can of gasoline. He unscrewed the cap, pulled out the piece of plastic in it and pulled the nozzle out, flipping it around and sliding the cap back over. He poked the nozzle into the hole he left in the abdomen. After a minute, it overflowed. He took the nozzle out, and pulling her chin down, he jammed it into her mouth.

Before doing anything else, he cleaned everything up and put everything back into the trunk. He got into the car and started it, then turned it around so he could leave immediately. Pulling the emergency brake, he left it running as he pulled the pack of matches out of his pocket.

Tearing one of the paper matches out, he struck it on the rough stripe to light it. Holding it to the rest of the matches until they all flared up, he then dropped the whole pack onto the body. The flames jumped up, but he saw that the ground was too wet to catch any grass or brush on fire.

After watching for a few minutes, he got into the car. He kept the head lights off until he was at Skyline, then after making sure there was no traffic in either direction, he pulled out and headed back toward his home. He had some deliveries to make now.

The rain had started again on his way home, so he had to drive down the curvy road much slower. The car in front of him was doing twenty miles per hour the whole way down to the bridge. He hurried back to his house after finally getting around the slow drivers, and parked in the garage again.

Inside, Avery thought for a few minutes. He needed to find containers to leave his presents in. Something that would be inconspicuous, but that would attract someone to pick it up to look inside. He had the perfect idea for the smaller pieces, but he needed something bigger for the larger bits.

He decided to get started on the first idea; he knew something would come to him soon. He went into his bedroom and took a few old books down from the shelf. With the blades he had, he cut the insides out of the books, and set the parts inside, then wrapped a piece of string around to hold them shut until he was ready to move them. He had to flatten the heart out a bit, but finally got it to fit inside.

The large pieces were still a problem. He didn't have any books big enough for those. He was going to have to go out shopping. It was still pretty early, he could run to the Fred Meyers over off Twentieth Street. It was actually close enough for him to walk, so he put on his black leather jacket and a knit cap, went out and locked the door behind him.

At the store, he went looking for the insulated lunch boxes. After walking down the aisles one after the other, he finally found them by the office supplies. There were different sizes, he picked out three of them and went up to the check out. He paid in cash, just in case, but the cashier hadn't even looked up at him.

He carried the bags back to his house. He decided that he would take tomorrow to drop the packages off. He knew exactly where he wanted to leave the items; there was a park across from the police station, with several benches. The tags on the lunch boxes said they were waterproof, which was perfect. He didn't want them leaking before they were found.

In a flash of inspiration, he thought about the Streetcar. He could leave a book there as well. He would have a busy day tomorrow, a lot of running around. He collected everything and took it out to the garage.

It was time to go meditate, time to go visit the shrine.