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My nice pantsuits didn’t quite fit anymore. The blazer would work but the pants were a lost cause. I swapped out stretchy leggings under a dress and kept the blazer.
“Do I look silly?” I asked.
Paul hugged me. “You look great.”
“We can’t be late. Greg is coming with the attorney and Ivy, right?” I asked.
Paul nodded. “Don’t worry. We’re just giving character testimony. Ivy took Greg a pressed suit this morning. It’ll be fine.”
“I’m ready.” I nodded.
We headed downstairs, I got a bottle of water and we piled into the car. Paul drove and I took some deep breaths.
“It’ll be fine,” Paul said.
It felt so odd but we drove in silence, then made our way through the courthouse. We sat waiting for Greg’s case to be called. I snuck off to the ladies’ room to make sure I wouldn’t have to pee right when I was called to testify.
Of course, as I returned to the room the bailiff appeared to usher us into a large conference room. I joined Paul and Ivy and watched the attorney make the opening statements.
Matt and Gunner both spoke then Paul. Ivy went next, but as family the judge would no doubt expect her to gush praise about her cousin. A couple of people from the Catholic Church and homeless shelter where he had worked spoke and listening to all of the good he had done danced on my hormones.
Darn baby hormones. I tried to hold back my emotional reaction.
I was called and took center stage.
“Dr. Oscar, you’ve known Mr. Delacroix for many years. Worked with him. Let him live in your home. Can you tell us what you think of him?” the attorney asked.
“Think of him? I think he’s a good man who is always trying to help people. He’s not perfect but he’s led a selfless life. I’m sorry he didn’t ask for help but temporary insanity can be a split-second snap where someone’s judgement is compromised,” I said.
“Objection. Is she testifying as a friend or a psychologist?” the prosecutor asked.
“I’m sorry but it’s hard when I’m both,” I replied.
“I’ll allow it,” the judge said.
“Your honor!” the prosecutor.
“Overruled, this isn’t a jury trial. I’m comfortable making the interpretations. Watch yourself,” the judge warned the lawyer.
I took a deep breath.
“Go on, Dr. Oscar,” the judge said.
“As a friend, I know Greg wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. Eli was a fellow priest and Greg believed he was good in the beginning. He’d be helpful but as we found out, he was misleading people, using women in his support groups for financial gain. and he seemed to enjoy toying with people suffering from demonic possession that needed help.”
“You believe these possessions to be real?” the lawyer asked.
“I do but more importantly, the people who are suffering do. The priests are working off a book written hundreds of years ago. The Church has strict rules about exorcism, and Greg left because he wanted to help more people—people who didn’t have time to wait. We both thought Eli was one of them. Once we knew Eli was a real danger, Eli ran away. He fled the country. I know Greg felt a lot of guilt over it, and so did I.”
“You didn’t go temporarily insane and set someone on fire, though,” Greg’s lawyer prompted.
“No, I didn’t. I was never a nun or priest. The Vatican and even the local diocese protected Eli. Hid him from authorities. The Church has a history of that sort of duplicity. Then Eli came back to New Orleans because the veil between worlds is so thin here. He liked the demons, the hauntings, and the power that came with the supernatural.” I took a sip of water.
“Are you blaming the demons for Mr. Delacroix’s actions, Dr. Oscar?” the judge asked.
“For Eli’s, maybe. He made Greg feel like the suffering of the people he’d tried to help was his fault. Then Greg tortured himself with the guilt that he’d brought this fallen priest, a false man of God into our group. We trusted him because Greg did. I know we’ve all forgiven him but Greg’s not the type to just forgive himself. When Eli was free, roaming around and a threat again, the guilt got to Greg.” I nodded.
“In what way did the guilt get to him?” the attorney asked.
I licked my lips. “Greg knew the risks. Eli has harmed people, indirectly if not directly, he was responsible for people’s deaths. Greg felt responsible and if the police couldn’t get to Eli because the church was moving him around and hiding him, Greg could get in those places. He was a priest—he’d been spending a lot of time at a local monastery considering taking vows again. No one would suspect him or try to stop him from entering a rectory or monastery.”
“You were also a witness to part of this. Do you mind answering questions as a witness for clarification?” the judge asked.
“Sure,” I said.
“You followed Mr. Delacroix to the monastery where Eli was being held, witnessed some of the events, and spoke to him afterward. Did he go there with the intention of taking him out as a threat?” the judge asked.
“No, he went there to convince Eli to turn himself in. To stop putting the Church in a precarious position and scaring people. I’ve had help from those monks and I know how deep and true their faith is. They weren’t men of fear but when Eli was in their monastery, they were afraid of him. Greg clearly tried and failed to get Eli to leave. He couldn’t allow Eli to hurt more people and threaten a whole city. He felt Eli’s crimes were his fault and he tried to force him to leave.”
“And the fire? How did it start?” the judge asked.
“The monks said Eli had a candle burning in his room that was knocked over. Greg attacked Eli out of temporary insanity but he wasn’t trying to kill him. It was about saving everyone else from Eli. Greg’s never been a danger to anyone. He might need therapy and to go back to teaching or something less stressful but putting him in prison will do no one any good. The prisons are crowded enough. Some people need to be incarcerated for the safety of the public, but not Greg.”
“Thank you,” the defense attorney said and nodded to the prosecutor.
“Dr. Oscar, you’re sure he’s not a threat to the public?” the prosecutor asked.
“I am. He’s never had more than a parking ticket. He’s not a violent person. He snapped because he felt responsible for all that Eli had done and he had to stop it. Once Eli was dead, that insane notion that Greg was responsible for Eli’s actions was eliminated,” I explained.
“And you don’t think it could happen again? What if he decides someone else is evil and must be stopped?” he pressed.
I shook my head. “No, I believe Eli was a master at manipulation. He had all of the Church and even women he’d used and mistreated from his support groups trying to protect him. Eli could’ve started his own cult if he wanted. He would’ve been the next Jim Jones. We were trying to get him arrested and stopped but he kept slipping through our fingers.”
“The Church wouldn’t take responsibility, so could his crimes be that bad?” the attorney asked.
I wanted to puke for the first time in a long time. “The Church lets priests who did far worse than Eli keep serving, right back with kids. You know what I’m talking about. No, of course the Church wouldn’t take responsibility. They just turned a blind eye, calling him a rogue priest with no authority to perform the exorcisms he botched or his ‘counseling’ work. Where was the state attorney’s office when people were dying from his ineptitude and others taken advantage of? Greg didn’t see any other options in that moment—largely because he knew the Church would rather shuffle Eli around than admit he was a problem. Their only interest was avoiding lawsuits.”
“Are you willing to be personally responsible for him? A legal guardian?” the prosecutor asked.
“He’s an adult, he doesn’t need a keeper.” I shrugged.
“But you’re a psychologist. What would your professional recommendation be for the long term? The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior,” he pressed.
I looked Greg in the eye and he nodded for me to tell the truth.
“I’d recommend probation for as long as the judge deems appropriate. That gives him accountability to the system. Someone he needs to check in with who isn’t a friend or a member of the Church. I’d say he needs to work in a less emotionally involved setting. A hospital chaplain, teacher, maybe in a rehab or prison outreach. He needs to avoid people seeking exorcism or suffering from possession.”
“You think he should return to the priesthood or a monastic order?” the attorney asked.
“That’s up to him, but I think he should avoid the Catholic Church and their belief in demons and such. He needs a job where he is accountable to others, where he won’t just be moved or reassigned if he gets in trouble. Eli knew that was how the Church operated, so he got away with abusing his power and hurting a lot of people. Greg needs to help people in a straightforward job but where he knows there are consequences for his actions,” I replied.
The attorney approached me. “Wouldn’t prison be the best consequence for murder? The psychiatric evaluations he underwent in the hospital show no predisposition for a psychotic break.”
“No one but Greg can say if it was murder or not. A fire started in the room, and Eli died in the fire. There were signs of a physical altercation on his body. Greg could’ve believed he was fighting the demons inside of Eli and they needed to be vanquished. Eli could have set himself on fire purposefully. Working with the supernatural can make things very complicated and dangerous. He’s helped and saved far more people in his life than he’s ever harmed. Why waste taxpayer dollars supporting another prisoner when he can be a contributing member of society who just needs a little therapy? He burned out as an exorcist and needs a new job.” I shrugged.
“Nothing further,” the prosecutor said.
“I have one more question,” the judge said.
“Yes?” I asked.
“Would you feel safe with him living in your house?” the judge asked while studying me.
I smiled. “Of course. He has off and on for years. But my house is still haunted so right now, I’d say the supernatural temptations might not be ideal. But if he needs a place to stay, he always has one.”
“Thank you. You’re excused, Dr. Oscar,” the judge said.
Then Greg got to speak. It was an emotional blur. I’d screwed it up, giving different hypothetical rationales rather than one cohesive story.
The judge retired to deliberate and we sat there praying and hoping.
“You did great.” Paul put an arm around me.
I shook my head. “I was a mess.”
“No, you were good. With just a judge, you don’t need to give him the magic bullet. Just enough reasonable doubt and theory that he can’t prove intentional guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt.” Paul smiled.
“Let’s hope so,” I said.
We went to the washrooms, found the vending machines, and stretched our legs. Finally, they called us back in.
“In the matter of The State of Louisiana vs. Mr. Delacroix, the court finds that Mr. Delacroix is guilty of manslaughter with the mitigating circumstance of temporary insanity. No time will be served but Mr. Delacroix will be under the terms of probation for the next three years. He will not leave the state of Louisiana without prior permission from this court, and he will find gainful work outside of the supernatural realm that does not bring him into direct or routine contact with minors. I realize this is New Orleans, but you must prove to the court that you are stable and reliable. You will report to your probation officer monthly, subject to random drug tests, work drop-ins, and any meetings deemed necessary by your probation officer. Do you have any questions?”
Greg nodded. “Thank you, I do. Why no minors?”
The judge chuckled. “I know you have no history of that sort of offense. But while we are determining that you are no danger to anyone, it’s best that you’re not working with children. Also, I’d prefer you not take vows of any kind until your probation is served. You will also wear an ankle monitor so your location can be tracked. You will surrender any passport if you possess one. Do you understand?”
“Yes, thank you, Your Honor,” Greg said.
“See the clerk. Don’t show up in my courtroom again or you’ll be behind bars,” the judge warned.
Two hours later, we were in a private room at a fancy restaurant stuffing our faces.
Ivy was hugging Greg so much she spilled her wine twice! I was happy with water and the success of the day.
“Want to work at the rehab?” Paul asked Greg.
Greg nodded. “If you need the help.”
“We do,” I added. “Where do you want to live?”
Greg shook his head. “I’ll get an apartment. I need distance from your type of work. Even if you clean out every ghost in the mansion, you’ll never be free from demons trying to control your powers. I need to find myself. Away from the supernatural.”
“There are plenty of living people to help in rehab. Leading meetings and one-on-one sessions should be easy for you with your counseling background as a priest. People want to unburden themselves a lot,” Paul said.
Greg leaned over. “I hope I’m not letting you down. Exorcisms are rough alone.”
I smiled. “I’m never alone. I just want you safe. You saved this city from Eli. I might not agree with how you did it, but it had to be done. No more matches or candles for you, though.”
“You saved me,” he said.
I shook my head and rubbed my eyes.
“Awww,” Ivy said.
“It’s the baby hormones. She didn’t want to visit Uncle Greg in prison.” I giggled.
“To the baby,” Greg called.
“The baby!” Everyone toasted.