Hear I am, Send Me--Chapter Three

Evelyn and Chris interview the young mother who nearly killed her daughter.

CHAPTER THREE

Evelyn called her officer, John Toland, at seven to let him know that she would be tied up with follow-ups throughout the day and he would be riding solo. She tried not to read anything in the nonchalance of his response.

Two hours later, she parked in CTC parking lot and made her way toward the building. As she approached the employee's entrance, Chris walked up beside her and opened the door. It didn't open. She pulled her card key from her pocket and held it up before tapping the pad.

A mock sheepishness crossed his face. "Yeah. They gave me one of those. I guess I'm not used to it yet. Good morning."

She smiled, "Good morning. At least you came back for day two. That's always a good sign."

"Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Then you've found the perfect workplace."

They made their way down the corridor to find Amanda already at her desk. She didn't look up when she spoke. "We'll leave in fifteen minutes. Be ready."

Chris looked at Evelyn. "Coffee?"

"Sounds good."

The smell in the breakroom indicated that the coffee had been on the burner for a long time, and the burnt coffee aroma prompted Evelyn to add extra creamer. It didn't help.

Chris took a sip, "It's nice to know that at least the coffee's terrible."

"It's not usually like this. Normally, it's just bad."

"I guess I'll have to sell a kidney so I can afford Starbucks."

Evelyn took another sip and winced. "I guess it's time for you to tell me about yourself. You work at Lakeland Church, right?"

"I'm on staff there but it's not full time. The church pays me a stipend to be a member of their army of associate pastors. My main job is in private security. I do that three nights a week at a store on Lower Broad. That's where I get my insurance. During the summer, I try to pick up landscaping work."

"You're industrious."

"I'm fond of eating."

"It seems the megachurch could afford to pony up a reasonable salary."

"Maybe. But what ministry would they take it from? I'm fine."

"Maybe you're too nice."

"Maybe you're too nosy." He added a smile to make sure she knew he was joking. He wasn't sure it worked.

She smiled back. "Okay, you're not too nice. But a security guard? That seems kind of violent for a preacher."

"Not at all. I'm a licensed unarmed security guard. That's more of a night watchman than a guard. My job is to be in the store all night and call the police if anything happens. I'm not paid to be violent, just reliable. Now it's your turn. Are you originally from here?"

"Born here? No. I'm not a unicorn. My parents moved here when I was ten, so I went to junior high and high school in Nashville, which makes me a local. I grew up in Donelson, went to McGavock High School, and Cumberland University for my undergraduate. I got my master's at UT Nashville, did my three thousand hours, and I sit before you as a licensed clinical social worker. That's the life story."

"How long have you worked for PHI?"

That was easy since she had just had her first annual review. "A little over a year. Before that, I worked all over. I started with the state. First, for a year as an unpaid intern. And then as a case manager for a couple of years. I then got a job with Parthenon Pavillion as an activities director for four years. Then, when I got laid off from there, I was unemployed for a few months while I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life."

"Did you figure it out?"

"Like you, I figured out that being able to buy food and pay rent is a good thing. The pay here was better than anything else I saw, and my inbox wasn't filling up with job offers, so I interviewed and got it. With luck, this will be a steppingstone to a job as a mental health technician who makes a livable wage." The speech came out rehearsed because it was.

"So, you went into social work for the money." He did an admirable job of keeping a straight face.

"Of course not. I wanted to help people and make a difference. Now, I want to help people and make a difference without a roommate and a diet of ramen noodles every night."

"Fair enough. If it weren't for the church stipend, I'd have a roommate, too. As it is, I barely make ends meet. When I moved here, I left my credit card with my parents so I wouldn't run up a lot of debt."

"Is that working?" Her tone was incredulous.

"After I pay the rent on my house at the beginning of the month, I'm skipping a lot of meals until my midmonth paycheck. If you want to hear a confession, I volunteer for all of the church's soup kitchens as much for the free meals as to help the homeless."

"What's this I hear?" Wendy's voice boomed in from the door, "A millennial sob fest? Let me tell you something, youngsters. When I was your age, we lived in caves and got to work with mammoth-driven carts, and there were wolves and saber-toothed tigers. We had to yell yabba-dabba-doo to make our cars start." She paused, waiting for a laugh or applause or something.

When no response came, Wendy said what she had been sent to say, "Amanda's about ready to go. She'll meet you out by her car." She went on down the hallway.

Evelyn and Chris went to Amanda's car and waited in the March breeze for five more minutes before Amanda came scurrying out. With minimal conversation, they climbed into the four-year-old company SUV and were on the road. It was five miles from the CTC to the Metro Davidson Downtown Detention Center (DDC), and the conversation on the way consisted primarily of Amanda peppering Evelyn with questions about the previous day's assessment.

They wound through the stop-and-go traffic of the downtown business district and then through the entertainment district, before descending into the County Courthouse underground parking lot. They had to go down to the lowest level before they found an open spot. The wind was brisk as they made their way past the courthouse and around to the DDC entrance just before their scheduled time of ten o'clock.

Amanda turned to Chris in the rear seat, "Have you ever visited a jail before, Padre?"

"We have a prison ministry. I've been to all the prisons around here at least once and I've been here twice."

"Good. That saves that speech. She requested clergy, so you'll take lead. Evelyn is here as a familiar face and will direct the questions. I'm just going to observe at first unless I need to make a specific follow-up. Can you handle that?"

"That's what I signed up for."

"All right. Let's go."

In the front lobby, they signed the releases, relinquished their phones, were searched, and walked through a metal detector before being escorted by the private security guards back to a small room with a table and four chairs. All were bolted down. They stood as they waited for Josey to be brought in.

It took about five minutes for them to hear the door lock being turned, followed by the door opening, and a guard escorting Josey into the room. She stopped when she saw Evelyn, "You believed me! You know what I said was true!"

The guard grabbed Josey's arm, and she quieted down. He led her to one of the seats and made her sit.

Amanda smiled, "Thank you. We're good now."

The guard looked up at the camera mounted on the ceiling and then left.

Chris sat beside her, and Evelyn and Amanda sat across the table. Josey looked back at the door through which the guard had just exited, looked back at Evelyn, and whispered, "You believed me!"

Chris tried to control the conversation, "Josey, I'm Pastor Chris. I believe that you requested clergy. You had a hard day yesterday." His voice was calm without being condescending.

Ask her seven-year-old daughter about a hard day. Had Evelyn just thought that? She'd been hanging around with cops for too long.

Evelyn tried to keep her smile in place. "Are you feeling better, Josey?"

The younger woman leaned across the table toward Evelyn and kept her voice low, "Please tell him that you believe me. That God told me to... do what I had to do."

"Josey, I don't know whether you heard God or not. We needed to keep you from hurting your child."

"Oh." Josey leaned back in her chair and straightened her shoulders. "I see."

Chris wanted to turn his chair to face Josey, but it wouldn't budge. "Josey, tell me about when God spoke to you. Did you hear His voice?"

She looked down into her lap. "No. Not really a voice. I was lying on the bed, and it was like I was suddenly up on my feet, and I knew."

"Were you praying when you were lying in bed?"

"No. I've never been much of a praying person. I've only been going to church because Rachel wanted us to, and we were staying at her house for free."

"You didn't grow up in the church?"

"No. My daddy said that churches just wanted to take your money. We never went."

"How long have you been going to church with your mother-in-law?"

"A few weeks. Ever since Cal started getting longer hauls with his job and he's been away so much."

"What type of church is it?"

She looked at him blankly. "I don't know. How many types are there?"

He smiled, "Some people will say hundreds, and others will say just one. It's confusing. Do you know the name of the church?"

"It's Stoners Creek Independent Church in Hermitage."

"You said you were suddenly on your feet, and you just knew. Knew what?"

"I knew that..." Her voice broke, and a sob escaped her lips, "My baby... was evil and God needed me to kill her and send her to heaven before Satan took her soul completely."

"So, you believed that you were protecting Leyla's immortal soul by killing her before she could be lost."

Josey winced.

"Are you okay?"

"Her name..."

"What about her name?"

"You shouldn't say it. Shouldn't speak it aloud."

"Because it has power?"

She nodded.

"Bad power?"

The young woman's voice was barely a whisper. "Evil. That's what the Holy Spirit told me."

"But not audibly?"

"I don't know what that means."

"You didn't hear an actual voice?"

"No. But I know what the Spirit was telling me."

"Tell me about your daughter," Evelyn asked.

Josey turned to her, "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Evelyn smiled, "Yes. She's a beautiful little girl."

"She's also smart as a whip. Her teacher says that they're talking about letting her skip a grade. I don't know where she gets any of that. Me and Cal barely finished high school. We got married right after I graduated."

"So, you and Cal go to high school together?"

"Yes. That's where we met. We started dating junior year. When Cal asked me to marry him, Rachel went ballistic. She wouldn't allow it. So, we eloped."

"What about your parents?"

"They're okay. We stayed with them at first. But they don't have enough room in their house, and momma works nights as a nurse, and, when Leyla came, a baby crying all day didn't work out."

"So, you're on good terms."

"Good enough. I take Leyla over to visit with them on my mom's days off." Josey looked at the locked door, and her energy level plummeted. "What happens next?"

Chris looked at Amanda, who looked at Evelyn. She tried for a reassuring smile, "You've been charged with a violent crime, which means that it is most likely that you will go to court and will have to work with an attorney. But you're being assessed by the Metro Nashville Partner-in-Care program to see if diversion into a mental health treatment program might be the best alternative for you and for the safety of the public at large." Straight off the website.

Amanda finally spoke, "Even if you are diverted into mental health treatment, the courts will only be granting a continuance, which delays your trial until you've spent a recommended amount of time in the treatment program. Then it will be decided whether it goes to trial or not. There is no guarantee that the charges will be dropped. Do you understand all this?"

"How long before y'all decide on this diversion thing?"

"We'll go as fast as we can, but it could be a few days."

"And I have to stay in here until then?"

"That's right. But please remember that the court may not accept diversion. Do you know when your arraignment hearing is scheduled?"

"It's supposed to be this afternoon."

"Do you have an attorney?"

"They told me I'd be meeting my attorney right before the hearing."

"Court-appointed?"

"I don't have any money for a real lawyer."

Amanda reached across and patted her hand. "Do what your lawyer tells you to do at the hearing. It's not like on television, and the judges hate surprises."

Josey nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

"I'll get my report to the District Attorney's Office as quickly as I can and then we'll follow up with a call. It's not a strong chance but we still might be able to swing mental health treatment. Don't give up hope. Do you have any questions for us before we go?"

Josey started to shake her head but then looked directly at Evelyn, "What's going to happen to Leyla?"

"For now, she's staying with Rachel."

The young woman's hands tensed into fists in her lap while she took a long, steadying breath. "Has Cal gotten back yet?"

"I don't know. I'm going over to do a wellness check later this morning."

"But Cal is her father, and he'll have..." She searched for the word "custody, right?"

"Children's Services will be reviewing the case. I can't guess at that right now."

"Okay." Josey retreated into herself and sat in silence for a few seconds.

Amanda stood, walked to the door, and pressed the call button. "We're finished here."

They waited as the guards came and took Josey before being allowed to leave themselves, reversing the process they had followed to enter. It took about ten minutes to get them out and they walked back to the garage in silence.

When they were sitting in the car with the engine running and the heater warming up, Evelyn looked at Amanda, "What do you think?"

"I can't say that she's not competent to stand trial. She clearly understood what was happening to her and asked appropriate questions. In terms of pushing for mental health treatment, I don't see any psychotic symptoms, and she was able to have a perfectly controlled conversation with us except for when she spoke specifically about her delusion. So, I'm leaning away from schizophrenia. The front runner based on one interview is probably Delusional Disorder."

Evelyn tilted her head slightly, "Is that really a good fit?"

"It's not a perfect fit. Her delusion would best be categorized as persecutory but that has holes in it. The fact that the delusion is bizarre rather than non-bizarre helps the case a little..."

"What if it's not a delusion?" The two women had forgotten for a moment that the chaplain was sitting in the back seat.

A flash of irritation crossed Amanda's face at the interruption but was gone within a second. She turned toward Chris, knowing what was coming, but he needed to have his say. "Explain."

"What if it is the Holy Spirit speaking to her?"

Evelyn began to speak, but Amanda held up a hand.

Amanda nodded. "Go on."

"If the Holy Spirit is speaking with Josey, then we have two possibilities: she is either understanding the Spirit or she is misunderstanding the Spirit."

"So, she might be hearing the Holy Spirit but not correctly interpreting what It is telling her to do?"

He thought about not saying the next, but plowed on, "Or maybe she is."

Evelyn tried to mimic Amanda's professional demeanor and almost succeeded. "You're saying that we should consider that God is telling Josey to kill Leyla?"

"If we are going to accurately assess Josey, then we must look at the situation from all perspectives, including both psychological and spiritual. Even when we don't like the options. The fact that God might be telling us something with which we disagree or don't understand is what differentiates the true God from an imagined idol."

Amanda's hand again went up, silencing Evelyn's next statement, which would be verging on completely losing the professional tone. Amanda's voice was level.

"I don't disagree."

Evelyn's mouth dropped open.

Amanda continued, "Once we can get Josey into a mental health program, we must marry the psychological with the spiritual. To do either without the other would lower the chance of success in the treatment. Right now, the goal is to get the court to grant her a mental health diversion. To get the DA and the court to consider it, we must go all in on the psychological diagnosis. If we present to them any option where she is completely sane, even one where she is hearing the Holy Spirit, then we are radically reducing her chances of getting out of jail. Does that make sense?"

Chris nodded.

Amanda started the car. "I'll take you back to the CTC, and I want the two of you to head over to the grandmother's house and do a thorough wellness check. While you're there, I need you to find out two things: first, see if Josey has been socially isolated, and second, determine if this delusion has persisted for longer than a month."

As the car pulled down the drive and into traffic, Chris wondered--not for the first time in his career--if he was following a path that was in the best interest of a soul-in-need or if he had just made a deal with the devil.