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the courtroom fast. Like her old man.”
    The judge took a step back and surveyed Ryan, his eyes narrowing. “You know, I’m in charge of distributing caseloads this year, and I haven’t seen many King County cases with your name on them.”
    “I’ve been throttling back,” Ryan replied neutrally.
    The judge nodded. “Um-hmm. You know, I still tell peopleabout that first trial you had in front of me—against Lester Schmidt. Barely out of law school and you pummeled him. He deserved it. I could never figure out what fueled that man’s ego. Whenever I see Schmidt, I figure out a way to remind him about it.”
    Ryan smiled again, just as the judge’s look turned serious. “You’re a fine trial lawyer, Ryan. I know this has been a rough few years for you—with Carolyn’s passing and all. But I’d hate to see you hang up your spurs. You’re too young. What would you do with yourself anyway—a hard charger like you.”
    Ryan was relieved to see Emily coming down the hall from the elevator bank. This was a subject he wanted to avoid just now.
    “Just considering a little break, Judge,” Ryan replied in a low voice. “But keep it to yourself.”
    The judge glanced in the direction of Ryan’s look, then nodded knowingly. “All right. Well, I’d better get going. I’m off this afternoon—picking up my nephew at the airport. The boy’s expecting me to grill salmon for him. Like they can’t buy it in Minneapolis. Have a good lunch.”
    The judge waved at Emily with a smile, then walked away as she arrived.
    Her blond hair usually fell naturally across her shoulders, but today it was pulled back from her face with a clip. It made her look more serious, Ryan thought, especially with her dark suit. Like her mother when she’d dressed for court. He considered mentioning it, but he doubted the intended compliment would be welcomed from him.
    She approached, stopping short of an invitation to a hug.
    “Thanks for doing this,” she said, smiling congenially. As she might to a client, he thought painfully. “I’ve got to rush, Dad; things are crazy upstairs. How about we go to Ivar’s for a quick bite and I can tell you why I called.”

    It was unusually cool for mid-June and the wharf around the restaurant was uncrowded. Ryan found an empty bench looking out on the Sound. Emily came out of the shop a moment later with their orders of clam strips; she’d insisted on buying today.
    She approached, walking with her mother’s grace. “You move like a dancer,” he said as she drew close. She barely acknowledged the familiar line he used to tell her at breakfast each morning.
    “How’s the practice, Dad?” she asked, sitting with her back to the water.
    “Great,” Ryan replied, looking away. “Just great.”
    It felt lousy to start their first conversation in months with a lie.
    Emily tried, over the next half hour, to ignite a conversation. Their small talk proved desultory and unsatisfying. That’s what came from not seeing one another more than quarterly, Ryan thought, saddened.
    But then he hadn’t reached this place of twilight with his only child by accident. He’d done it by slow neglect. He merited no absolution simply because their final breaking point had resulted from the year and a half he was trying to save Carolyn. Emily had desperately needed him at the time, too. And that period was only the crown on a lifetime of neglect by distraction.
    He finally turned the conversation to the point of this surprise invitation to lunch. “So what’s the problem?” Ryan asked, starting into the strips.
    Emily hesitated a moment, moving a strand of hair that blew across her eyes. “I have a friend from college who needs a lawyer.”
    “Anyone I know?”
    “No,” she said, then paused. “I mean, I probably mentioned him. But I never brought him home. I only knew him for a year, when we were juniors at UW, back when Mom had just gotten sick. His father had cancer, too, so he really understood what I