Chapter 5
Chantal's patients were giving her strange looks ever since her name appeared in the paper mentioning her as the consulting psychologist on the murder of Professor Beth Johnson-Angelo. She, in fact, was giving Detective Gold strange looks ever since he asked her to take on that role for him. Maybe Beth had performed her first miracle!
Even though Chantal did see some people for psychotherapy for a variety of disorders, she spent most of her time preparing for court, or actually being at the courthouse, as an expert witness on investigations dealing with the psychological competence of people who were involved in accidents, compensation claims, or other legal matters. She tried to keep Fridays free for paper work and her office patients and today found that one person after the other would bring up the case that presently saddened her so deeply.
If there was a God, why did he/she let this happen? Why did God let this happen to someone like Beth? Beth spent her life devoted to God, devoted to coming to a deeper understanding of God for herself and for others. Beth put her head and employment on the chopping block time and again in the theological stances she took and now, by her own hand, or someone else's, was dead.
The pathologist's autopsy report found no evidence of a struggle. Church officials had recently been trying to silence her, but that had been going on for years. John loved her passionately even though he was jealous of the memories she had about religious life and some of the friends, in and out of her former religious community, who drew her energy and emotion away from him at times.
Chantal couldn't concentrate. She skipped lunch again, skipped dinner again, and drove over to John's office. Gayle looked up appreciatively as Chantal entered.
"Let me see if I can slip you in between patients, Doctor Fleur. I know you're in between patients yourself." Before long, the door opened and a woman and her daughter stepped out, the daughter holding an inhaler to help her with her asthma attacks. Everyone looked up anxiously waiting to be called but Gayle jumped up and was at the door before people knew what happened. In a moment she was ushering Chantal into the doctor's office.
"How are you doing, John?" she asked.
"I manage well enough when I'm with my patients but otherwise it's pretty horrible."
"Have you talked to Abbot Francis, John?"
"No, I haven't, I guess I'm mad at God as well as everybody else.
"He's not God. He met you about a year ago at a conference on the psychological aspects of medical care."
"Oh right, I thought the name sounded familiar. Does he do something other than being an abbot?"
"Yes, John," she said compassionately. "He's a clinical psychologist, and a very fine one. That's why he wants to see you. I asked him to. He's reaching out to you in your pain."
"Well, I'd rather keep my wound closed for now, Chantal, but I appreciate both of you thinking of me."
"Okay, John, I don't mean to be a meddler. I just wanted to encourage you. I know you're busy so I'll leave you now. Call if you need me."
"Thank you, Chantal, I really appreciate it."
In a moment Chantal was gone and a little baby with a dangerously high fever was on the examining table before him.