Here I am/ Send me.--Chapter Fifteen

Evelyn and Chris find out more information about Evelyn, Josey, and Rachel.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Evelyn avoided mirrors the following morning. She didn't want to know. It was a bright, sunny morning, and she couldn't help but see her reflection in the employee's entrance door at the CTC. The skin around her eyes was grey, and the bags underneath them made her look like an elderly raccoon. Luckily, she was sentenced to another day of paperwork and could avoid contact with humanity.

She grabbed a cup of coffee and hustled to her desk, where she found a handwritten note in Amanda's cursive. Please see me when you get in. A little coffee slopped out of her cup when she leaned over for the note. It missed her pants and landed on the carpeting to blend in with its many predecessors. With a dripping coffee cup in one hand and the note in the other, she made her way across the office and found Amanda typing at her computer with her usual plodding two-finger hunt-and-peck.

"You wanted to see me?"

The older woman growled something subvocal at the computer and looked up. "Evelyn." A blank look crossed her face for a second before she seemed to remember why she had called Evelyn in. "We just got word from PD that John Toland's funeral has been scheduled for tomorrow at 10:00 AM. I assume that you're planning on attending?"

Of course, there would be a funeral, and of course, she would be expected to attend. Why was this a surprise? She harnessed her wits as quickly as she could. "Yes, of course. Where is it going to be?"

"I'll send you the particulars. I have another engagement, so you'll represent PHI."

"Does that mean that I have to do anything?"

"No, just wear the company uniform and try to shake a few hands before the service."

"Okay." She tried not to show her antipathy towards the requirement and failed.

Amanda ignored the obvious frown. "Also, you look terrible. Did you sleep last night?"

"Not so much."

"Give Angie a call and schedule another therapy session."

"Do I have to?" Even to herself, she sounded like a child.

"Yes, you have to. Don't start taking pills. Get to the root of the problem so you can sleep naturally."

"Right." The root of the problem was that her life had turned upside down in the last four days, and it takes time to adjust. There. Therapy session is complete. But keeping her job was a good thing. "I'll call her this morning and set something up."

She spilled her coffee again on the way back to her desk and took a moment to grab a paper towel from the breakroom to clean it up. When she had exhausted all excuses at procrastination, she sat at her desk and stared at the phone. If she didn't call Angie, maybe Amanda would forget the whole thing. In a year of working together, she had never seen that happen. She dialed the number and listened to it ring.

"This is Angie Graham with Psychiatric Health, Inc. I'm sorry, but I'm unable to take your call right now. If it is a medical emergency, please call 911. Otherwise, please leave your name, number, and a brief message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible."

Evelyn waited for the beep. "Hi, Angie. It's Evelyn Dunham at extension 4108. I didn't sleep well last night, so Amanda ordered me to have another session with you. Please call me back so we can schedule it. Thanks."

That left her sitting, exhausted, with nothing to take her mind off John Toland's funeral. She tried to focus on details. PHI didn't issue a dress uniform like the police. Her daily uniform was the black polo shirt with the company logo over one breast and her name over the other. She had been given a light blue Oxford-style shirt with a button-down collar and only the company logo. If she wore that with a pair of black dress slacks--her own, not company-issued--she would be presentable. Should she wear a black tie? She didn't own one. Nor did she know how to tie one if she did.

Suddenly, her mind filled with the image of the funeral--a sea of police officers engulfing her in her pathetic excuse for a uniform. The vision was so vivid that she reached out to grab the edge of her desk to anchor herself to reality. In the police world, she was a trespasser who was tolerated but not wanted.

"Hey."

The voice blasted her from the daymare, and she looked up to see Chris. His eyes were bloodshot, and he sported his own dark circles. The all-too-human part of her personality was glad to see someone else in her condition. Maybe Amanda would force him into therapy.

She tried a smile. It didn't look any better than it felt. "Good morning."

He sat in the little chair next to her desk. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"You're not looking ready to wrestle the world yourself."

He laughed softly. "I guess not. I should know better than to skip sleeping before a shift. Going thirty-four hours sleepless is beginning to wear me down. What's your excuse?"

"Pretty much the same. I couldn't sleep last night. I was glad when the alarm went off because it meant the night was over." A thought struck her, and she looked into his eyes. "I think I need a chaplain."

He started to smile before he realized she was serious. "Of course. What do you need?"

"I need someone... I need you to go with me to John's funeral tomorrow. I'm scared to go alone."

"Scared? Why?" He kept his voice down without resorting to a whisper to keep the conversation private among the cubicles.

"Because I don't belong there."

"You worked with him."

"I know. And I should be there. It's hard to explain."

"Then don't try. If you need me, I'll be there."

His eyes were brown and looked directly into hers. She saw the caring and support. Was he being a chaplain or a man? And why was she asking herself this? Why was she always so selfish? Her focus should be on John Toland, his family, and his friends. This was a funeral, not a date. She dropped her gaze.

"Thank you."

Sensing the change in mood, he laid the packet of papers on her desk. "I brought the church directory."

His sentence didn't register until she remembered the church. Had that been only last night? It seemed like it was days ago. She, once again, had to pull her mind back into the conversation. "Right. Do you want to start making some calls?"

"If you're ready." He still looked concerned.

Her option was sitting at her desk all day, pretending to do paperwork and wallowing in her thoughts. "We can use the small conference room. If anybody has it reserved, they'll kick us out."

The conference room had a wooden table surrounded by six chairs. A television was mounted on one wall with a small computer attached to it by an HDMI cable. On the table was a starfish-style speakerphone. Evelyn closed the door, and they sat down.

"What was the name of that woman who had words with Rachel?" she asked.

Chris turned right to it. "Courtney Wilkins." He laid the page on the table, and the small picture next to the contact information matched Evelyn's memory from the night before: younger and with a slightly different hairstyle, but the same woman. Chris stepped around the table so they could both view it from the same angle. Their elbows touched. "What are we going to ask her?"

Evelyn stepped aside about an inch. "I vote that we explain who we are and generally ask her about the family. Hopefully, she'll run with it."

"She seemed more than willing last night."

Evelyn pressed the speaker button, heard the dial tone, placed her index finger next to the phone number on the page, and dialed. The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Is this Courtney Wilkins?"

"Who's calling?"

"My name is Evelyn Dunham, and I'm with the Metro Partner-in-Care Program. We met last night at your church."

"You're the police lady that got Rachel so riled up."

Evelyn smiled. "That would be me. But I'm not a police officer. I'm a co-responder and licensed clinical social worker under contract with the Metro Police Department. And I'm here with Chris Leighton, the Chaplain with our team."

"Is he the one who was with you last night?"

Chris chimed in. "Yes. That was me."

"You're pretty hot for a preacher."

Evelyn choked back a laugh and tried to keep her voice professional. "Ms. Wilkins, I'm working on a wellness follow-up for Leyla Marshall and trying to get some background on the family."

"I hope you've got a lot of paper. That's one messed-up group."

"How so?"

"Well, Miss Rachel is just flat out mean, and Josey is super crazy. But you know that."

"How long have you known the family?"

"My whole life. I was born in the church just like my momma was. My nanna was one of the founders. There's always been a Wilkins in that church. Cam was the same year as me, and we dated a little, but I wasn't having it. There was..." She faltered for a second. "I wasn't going to have anything more to do with that family than I absolutely had to."

"How well do you know Josey?"

"Well enough to know that she's a nutjob. She only started coming to church here a few months ago when Cam was getting sent on longer trips for his job. He knew that she was too crazy to take care of Leyla without help. I don't even want to think about what it was like in that house with Rachel and that crazy girl in the same house."

"Did you speak with Josey much?"

"I tried. I spent time with her and helped her with Leyla when she got stressed out. But she didn't really talk to anybody much. She was probably listening to the voices in her head."

"Why do you say that?"

"Isn't that what crazy people do? Hear voices and stuff?"

"So, you've only known Leyla, their little girl, for a few months?"

There was a brief pause. "Pretty much."

Chris responded, "Pretty much?"

There was another, longer pause. "Rachel brought her to church a couple of times when she was a baby, I guess. Are y'all done? I have some things to do."

Evelyn shrugged, and Chris carried on. "One last question. Is there anyone in the church who is close to Rachel and the family?"

"The only person here who can stand Rachel is my momma."

Chris scanned down the directory. "Is that Pansy Wilkins?"

"No, that was my Nana. She's dead. Momma is Claire Wilkins."

"Is the contact information in the directory correct for her?"

"Probably. She's lived in that same trailer my whole life."

"Do you think she would mind if we visited her?"

"A visit from a preacher! It would make her day! Just make sure you have plenty of time. She won't let you out of there until you've heard her life's story. Twice."

Evelyn finished up. "Thank you for your time. We appreciate your willingness to answer our questions."

"Just make sure that you keep that crazy Josey locked up where she can't hurt nobody."

Evelyn grimaced. "Again, thank you for your time." She hung up.