“What was that nonsense all about?” Dr. Lachman pushed her way through the departing crowd.
“I’m convinced your testimony will ultimately speak for itself. Sorry for the mix-up,” Senator Travis apologized. “I’m confident this is a frivolous motion. We’ll be working to get it rejected tomorrow morning. Can you show up ready to go at 9 am tomorrow? I hope to put you on as soon as we deal with this.”
A mollified Dr. Lachman agreed to return in the morning.
“What’s going on here?” Senator Travis asked softly to no one in particular. “This is a piece of crap.” He slapped Senator Castillo’s motion on the table.
“Kim!” Senator Travis caught her attention. She pushed her way through the departing crowd to the defense table.
“Scan this,” he ordered. “Send it to Bill at the Family, Faith, and Freedom Foundation. Let him know I’ll be calling in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, getting right to her assigned task with some furious texting.
Senator Travis looked around to be sure he wouldn’t be overheard. “Castillo’s slow rolling us,” he told Mike, thinking aloud. “There’s absolutely no way she can get away with excluding a witness like this from the record. Best she can hope for is that we’re not allowed to present Dr. Lachman’s testimony to the jury. Whether this testimony gets in front of the jury is virtually irrelevant. The whole case is going to get appealed all the way to the Supreme Court, anyway.”
“Will you have me testify in the morning if this isn’t all straightened out by then?” Mike asked.
“No, not at first,” Senator Travis answered. “I want your testimony at the end of our case. I want the last thing the jury considers to be your story of being SWAT’ed in front of your class. Also, if Castillo somehow does actually manage to throw out Dr. Lachman, you’re going to get to do double duty for our side and get some of her evidence in front of the jury. We can’t have you up on the stand until we know whether Dr. Lachman gets to testify, so I know which way to steer your testimony.
“I’ll look through this and get back to you… maybe after dinner,” Senator Travis promised.
Deputy Martínez escorted Dr. Andrews back to the basement holding area.
“Look what we got delivered this afternoon!” the deputy announced. “It’s a big-screen TV! Want me to wheel it over there so we can both watch?”
“No,” Dr. Andrews answered. “I have my books. You can keep it over there. Just keep the sound turned down, please.”
“Turning this place,” the deputy wheeled the massive television over toward his desk, “into a real mancave now! Guarding you has to be the easiest duty I’ve ever pulled. I’m going to be sad when it’s all over.”
“I’m not going to be sad,” Mike noted, “but I’m glad at least one of us is enjoying the experience, Deputy.”
“Call me, Ruy,” Deputy Martínez insisted. “Short for Ruperto. And don’t sweat it, Doc,” he advised. “Things’ll calm down soon enough. Then, you can go home or back to work or whatever, and I’ll have to get back to real work.”
“You’ve been following the trial?” Mike asked.
“When I can,” Deputy Martínez acknowledged. “Lots of refereeing fights over who gets the power outlet or who’s blocking whose view of the action. It’s like herding cats. Reporters! Posers and idiots. Spoiled brats, all of ’em.”
“What do you make of it all?” Mike was curious.
“Whole lot of fuss about nothing if you ask me,” he replied. “Confused academic types whippin’ themselves into a frenzy tryin’ to decide whether they’re men or women and not being able to tell the difference.”
“So Ruy, how do YOU know you’re a man?” Mike asked.
“Because I have a dick,” Deputy Martínez answered. “Obviously.”