Mind of a Fanatic

Chapter 14

Horatio pulled the Hummer into the designated spot for police officers at the Biscayne Courthouse. He cut the engine and looked over at his passenger. She looked a million miles away. "Hey, are you ok?"

Calleigh stood in the New Orleans courtroom at the end of the nightmare trial. The crazy priest was going in for almost thirty years and every time his parole came up for a hearing, she'd be there to make sure he never touched another woman again. The man was a monster; an animal. He couldn't be let out in society again.

"Miss," he said softly, mildly, as he was led past her. "You've lost your way, you know. You're just as much a Penitent as those other poor women and need to learn your place in the world. You need to repent and take catechism. I am patient and when I do get out, I will find you and teach you your catechism. That's a promise."

Calleigh looked into his eyes and went cold. She felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach. The courtroom spun. He had meant every word and no matter how long it took, he would make good on his promise. He knees began to shake and she held on to the back of the chair in front of her for support.

"Calleigh, are you ok?" came Horatio's question a second time. He reached over and shook her shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

"What?" She was brought back to the present, jumping slightly at his touch. "Oh – yes I'm fine; I was just thinking."

"Are you sure? The judge said that you could do this later in the week instead of today if you're not up to it," Horatio reminded her, concern for her clear in his eyes. She normally didn't jump when someone touched her, especially not him. "You don't have to put up a front with me …"

"Let's go do this." Calleigh said with a confidence that wasn't quite up to what lay in her voice. "Let's put him away."

"Alright." With one, final measured look he opened his door, went to the rear of the Hummer, extracted and set up the wheelchair before wheeling it over, opening the door and lifting Calleigh out. He set her gently in the chair, helping her set her feet on the platforms. The slight grimace on her face told him volumes. "I know, sweetheart, you're hating every minute of this. Hang in there."

Taking his time, he wheeled Calleigh into the courthouse and over to the correct courtroom. When they entered, Calleigh saw that Eric was already seated in the witness area. She briefly wondered why and then remembered that it was he and Horatio that found her and Eric was the one that did initial processing on her. Natalia apparently had finished the job while she had been unconscious in the ER. She would be called in later in the day to testify. Horatio parked her next to Eric in the empty space that had been left for her wheelchair.

"How are you holding up?" Eric asked softly. As far as he was concerned, she looked exhausted already and the trial hadn't even begun.

"I'm fine, Eric," she replied with as bright a smile as she could muster. "I just want to get this over with."

"Uh-huh," he said, unconvinced, looking her over carefully. Alexx had stopped by the hospital earlier in the morning to help Calleigh dress and ready herself for the trial. Alexx had chosen the outfit well. It was Calleigh's jet black pantsuit and white pinstriped blouse that only managed to enhance the marks of the beatings she had taken and played up the pallor of her complexion. There was no make-up; it would have hid the bruises too easily.

"You look tired, Cal. Why don't you close your eyes for a while until the judge gets here?" He smiled slightly. "Good news; you got Adam Garcia."

"Good. He's a hanging judge when it comes to cop killers. He's going to love Dupree." Calleigh replied. She stifled a yawn and closed her eyes. "Wake me when Judge Garcia gets here."

"Will do,"

Calleigh began to doze, the voices of the lawyers and others becoming a low background buzz. Flashes of her own ordeal danced across her inner vision; instead of pushing them away, she began to embrace them in case they held any extra information that was vital to putting Dupree away.

Falling deeper into sleep, the images became more distinct and in far sharper detail. She lay on the cold floor, gasping for air, realizing that she needed to relieve herself badly. Dupree had left after pounding on her for the second time that day with the knotted flail. It was agonizing to breathe as her bruised body fought with her every breath. She whimpered and dragged herself over to the chamber pot that Dupree had left her. Struggling upright, she positioned herself over it and did what she needed to do, nearly passing out from the agony that lanced through her while doing so. She cried out and braced her back against the wall, sending another volley of pain through her body. Crawling off the chamber pot she turned and looked into it to try to discern what had caused her so much pain. It was tinged red with blood. He had beaten her so badly that...

"Hey, Cal...Calleigh," Eric said, his voice flooded with concern. He rubbed her cheek gently. "Wake up. You're having a bad dream."

"What?" she muttered, coming up out of the fog. "What did you say?"

"I said you were having a bad dream. You were sounding distressed."

Damn him. "Thank you, Eric. I'd hate to embarrass myself any more than I already have," she said steadily. Calleigh straightened herself in the chair. "I wasn't loud, was I?"

"No." Eric said, wanting nothing more than to ask her what she had been dreaming about, but knew that it was better a subject left alone until later. "You sure you're ok?"

She nodded, giving him a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine now."

The bailiff stood. "All rise, court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Adam Garcia presiding."

The judge entered. He was a large man, heavy-set with curly black hair and lively brown eyes behind his glasses. His baby face looked far too young to belong to a ten year sitting judge. "Please be seated."

"State of Florida vs. Father Peter Dupree S.J.," the bailiff announced.

"Please bring the defendant in," Garcia said formally.

Calleigh looked from the judge to where Dupree was led in. Her heart skipped a beat and she began to sweat, despite the air conditioning. She began to shake. Closing her eyes, she clenched her jaw in an effort to get her reactions under control. Too bad she was losing the battle. Sshe wished that she was back in her nice, safe hospital room. I don't know if I can do this...dear God, when did I get so timid?

"Don't fight it. Let the jury see your reaction." Eric, seeing her reaction, reached over and held her hand. "Do as Sam said; let the jury know everything. That's the only way we're going to get him thrown in without parole."

"Right," Calleigh said, trying to let go of her tenuous control. She looked over at the jury box as the lawyers began their opening arguments.

There were seven women and five men, two of which were Asian, four were Caucasian, three Hispanic and three African American. Their ages ran roughly between the mid-twenties to about 50. All shot furtive glances at her during the arguments. She thought she saw sympathy in a few of the eyes, but wasn't sure. If they were already showing sympathy, then she had already had an advantage. She leaned back against the wheelchair back and winced, sitting back up.

"Your honor," Sam Bartlett, the States' Prosecuting attorney said, "As everyone here knows, there are unique circumstances to this trial and under these unique circumstances, I'd like to call my first witness and the victim of the alleged crime, CSI Detective Calleigh Duquesne."

"By all means." Judge Garcia replied calmly.. "Have her come forward,"

The Bailiff stood. "The Court calls the Prosecution's first witness CSI Detective Calleigh Duquesne to the stand."

Horatio rose and wheeled Calleigh to the witness stand. He gently lifted her out of the wheelchair and placed her in the witness' chair. As he put her down he could see the embarrassment etched clearly on her face. Hang in there sweetheart, you can do this …

Judge Garcia regarded her with a kindly gaze. He'd had CSI Duquesne in his courtroom before as an expert witness and she had always impressed him with her poise and intelligence when discussing the evidence that she processed. As he regarded her now he could see that her eyes were still sharp with intellect, yet her poise seemed to be missing.

"Detective Duquesne, I understand that you are still being hospitalized and are here under strict medical supervision. I have been informed that you may need to take frequent rest breaks and I want you to know that I will co-operate fully with your request for any and all said breaks."

Calleigh gifted him with one of her warmest smiles. "Thank you, Your Honor."

Samuel Bartlett, attorney for the prosecution stepped forward, stopping in front of the witness box. "For the record, Detective Duquesne, please state your full name for the court."

"Calleigh Duquesne."

"Detective Duquesne, please state the events of Friday, December 15th of this year," Bartlett said.

As they had already rehearsed during the long hours of preparation, Calleigh began, "I had been in court that morning giving testimony. Once that was completed, I stopped for gas and then returned to the Miami-Dade Crime Lab."

"In what capacity do you serve in the Crime Lab?" Bartlet asked.

"I am the day shift second in command as well as the firearms and tool marks expert." Calleigh stated in an even voice.

"Are you also a fully qualified police officer?"

"Yes sir, I am."

Bartlett nodded encouragingly to her. "Please continue."

"Arriving back at the Lab, I checked-in with a co-worker, Eric Delko, and requested an update on evidence that he was processing. During this time I received a phone call from a previous partner from the New Orleans Crime Lab. CSI Camera called to inform me of the release of Father Peter Dupree from the Louisiana State Penitentiary. My testimony and the evidence that I and the rest of that team had gathered was instrumental in putting Father Dupree behind bars." Involuntarily, she glanced at Dupree, who was gazing quite intently at her. A shudder ran through her.

She dragged her attention back to her testimony. "CSI Camera knew of the threat that Father Dupree leveled at me at the end of his trial and wanted to give me a warning in case he tried to make good on the threat. I spoke with CSI Delko and together we agreed that our Lieutenant, Horatio Caine, needed to be informed. After informing Lt. Caine and he, in turn, requesting and receiving the case file from NOPD, chose to assign bodyguard shifts to try and keep me safe and draw Father Dupree forward so that he could be returned to custody."

A wave of exhaustion washed over her as she paused; her shoulder beginning to throb slightly. "We were called out to a shooting and CSI Delko began his shift with me."

"Yet, despite these very qualified officers guarding you, you were still abducted." Bartlett stated.

"Yes,.Our team processed the scene and returned with the evidence to the Lab. I remained there until 6:15 when Lt. Caine took up his shift. It was decided that I would be safer staying at his home instead of mine. We stopped by my home to pick up a few things. That was when Father Dupree surprised us, incapacitating Lt. Caine and rendering me unconscious."

"Detective Duquesne, would you care for a break?" Judge Garcia asked. She was looking tired and drawn and he was unwilling to jeopardize her recovery for her continued testimony.

"It's alright, Your Honor." Calleigh replied, knowing that she'd need a break soon, but wanting to get through the current phase of her testimony for the jury's continuity. "I can keep going,"

Bartlett turned a video screen toward her and clicked a remote. The interior of Dupree's Chapel came into view. The photo was logged evidence that the team had shot while processing the scene.

"Is this where you found yourself once you regained consciousness?

Calleigh swallowed hard, completely unprepared for the horror that ran straight through her at the sight of the torture chamber. She shuddered visibly. "Yes, it is."

"For the record let it state that Detective Duquesne has positively identified the interior of Father Dupree's bunker. " Bartlett turned the video screen toward the jury box, making certain that everyone could see the photo and the obvious blood pool at the base of the whipping post. "Detective Duquesne, what is pooled at the base of the center post in this evidence photo?"

Calleigh let her voice shake the way it wanted to. Don't hide your reactions. "That's my blood."

There were gasps of horror from the jury box, several of them looking with great sympathy at Calleigh.

"Detective Duquesne, can you tell the court how you found yourself once you regained consciousness?" Bartlett asked patiently. Things were going well. The jury was loving Calleigh more every second.

Calleigh explained in as much detail as she could, making certain to make eye contact with each and every juror as much as possible. She answered several more questions in great detail before asking for a break. As promised, Judge Garcia granted a fifteen minute recess.

Horatio came forward with the wheelchair and picked Calleigh up. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, gently settling her into the chair. He began to wheel her out of the courtroom.

"I'm tired," Calleigh said, letting her weariness lace her voice.

"The Judge set aside a conference room for you to use when-"

"Lambchop!"