She opened her eyes. She wanted to see his just before he did it. Her hands were shaking. He moved closer. He knew he was prolonging her anxiety. He was doing it on purpose. He looked at her mouth. "Don't," she said. "Shh," he said. His hand moved back to her face, and still looking at her mouth, he ran his thumb across her lips, gently. His eyes followed it. She had to control herself from reaching out for his thumb with her tongue. She didn't think she could take much more. She could barely breathe. She closed her eyes tightly. He could see it. See her body tense. See her struggling to breathe. "Look at me," he said. She opened her eyes, and looked at his mouth again. This time it was her hand that moved to his face, to his mouth. His lips. With her forefinger she traced his lips, moving closer, her eyes staying on his mouth now. His hands moved to her sides, down, and to her hips, which moved up to his touch, inched closer to him on the couch. His fingers tightened on her hips as. "You can do that during a break, since you didn't bring an assistant with you," said Gunderson dryly. "Call your next witness."Schwartz called as a witness the doctor who had examined and treated Lacey in the hospital, after the explosion. He asked a full line of questions about how the woman responded when she regained consciousness, and what she could and could not remember. He was able to indicate that she could remember a lot, and that the amnesia wasn't anything like complete."In your opinion, do you think she had any real amnesia at all?" asked Schwartz."Objection!" said Matthew. "The witness is not a mental health expert." No, I'm not," said the doctor, who was obviously unnerved by the ferocity of the prosecutor's questioning.That prevented another sidebar, where the doctor's credentials could be examined, and the objection was sustained.Again, though, the seed was planted in the jury's minds that her amnesia might have been a ruse, so she could pretend like she'd done nothing.
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