It had all begun six months ago.

Whenever Cal Lightman thought back to it he could never recall anything else exceptional about that spring afternoon. Gillian had just returned from at meeting at the mayor's office and was describing all the boring details for him.

He never would forget that suspicious smile on Gillian's lips though.

"Also, I don't suppose you know someone named Monika Fox do you?" she asked with deliberate casualness after she'd summed up the day's events.

"Nope. Should I?" Lightman had asked disinterestedly and wished he'd be left in peace to read.

Maori tribal war gestures were far more interesting than the mayor's embezzlement case any day.

"Probably," Gillian's smile widened and Lightman knew he had blundered. "Since she stuffed your mouth full of garlic and rolled you in flour after your graduation party at Oxford."

Lightman's head shot up and he never did finish reading his book.

"You met Monika Hayworth? Where?"

"Well it's Monika Fox now," still chuckling from the story Gillian opened her purse and produced a business card, "and she's the mayor's private attorney. We went to lunch afterwards and she said she'd love a call from you."

"How is she?" Gillian's professional skills noted how his speech became rambled and his attention was re-focused on the tiny card. "You said the mayor's attorney? She always did well at school but that's even better than even I thought she would. Fox did you say her name is now? She married then?"

"Divorced," Gillian rose from her chair and collected her handbag. "And would like you to call."

The sublimity of that comment wasn't missed on the master detector.

"Don't get any ideas," Lightman had regained his calm composure and was quick to squash his colleague's imagination before it started any office gossip. "She's an old friend. We're just going to catch up."

"I didn't say anything," Gillian assured and left the office.

He called later that afternoon.

"You still haven't figured out how to use a razor," was the first thing Monika Fox had said when they met for coffee later that week.

"And you're still sound like a Mississippi mud slinger," Lightman replied before they hugged tightly.

"Louisiana gator wrestler," she corrected. "And you are in no position to mock my accent. You're the odd one out now English boy."

It had been thirty years since they'd last seen each other at Oxford but they could still banter like they had at twenty.

Monika couldn't believe how respectable Lightman looked in a suit as she could only ever remember him in jeans and rock T-shirts. Lightman made comment at how she was wearing shoes, something she'd rarely done in university.

Monika's chocolate brown hair had always been flower power long but now she wore it neatly at her ears and like him, now wore thick professional glasses over her brown eyes.

Lightman told her everything about building the Lightman Group with Gillian and the cases they dealt with. He told her about his marriage, the divorce and how the most important thing in his life now was his teenage daughter Emily.

Monika told him about the years she spent working on human rights cases for the UN before stress and age had forced her to take up a desk in private practice. She'd been married once but had decided she was better off without him.

"So she's not seeing anyone then?" Gillian inquired as she and Lightman worked back late one night later that week.

"We're old friends," Lightman threw aside a useless document and grabbed another.

"That's not what I asked."

"She lives by herself," Lightman's tone was firm and Gillian could hear the warning in it. "And isn't seeing anyone at the moment."

Gillian made an interested noise then shuffled some more papers. Experience had taught her that when approaching a touchy subject it was wise to give the subject time to relax between questions to keep them calm.

"How long has she been divorced?" she asked when it was safe.

"Didn't ask," he grunted.

"Well I suppose you can next time," Gillian said and deliberately looked at the file in her hand.

"Stop that!" Lightman warned with a pointed finger.

But they did meet up the following week. This time they went out for dinner and Monika picked up the cheque. So Lightman only thought it fair to get the next one. Monika said it was her turn on the third time and Lightman refused to let her pay the time after. To avoid the argument again Monika suggested that he come to her place for dinner. Lightman accepted and stayed the night.

That was how their relationship began, two old friends who realised they had the potential to be much more.

It was weeks before Lightman felt comfortable enough to suggest that Monika and Emily meet. Monika thought it a fine idea and made a booking at the local seafood restaurant.

"So do you think your ex will file for a restraining order?" Monika quipped when Lightman returned from taking Emily home. They were now in her kitchen cleaning up the mess she'd made at breakfast. "Am I to be considered a bad influence?"

"I'm surprised you got along so well actually," Lightman admitted and rested his glass of red wine on the counter. "You never were a kid person."

"That's probably why," Monika admitted. "Kids hate it when you pretend to know all about them. I find if you treat them as an individual they like you a whole lot more."

"Hey!"

"Hey what?" Monika pulled her head out of the silver cave of dishes to see Lightman's expression of amazing discovery.

"You had one!" he shook his finger to emphasise the point.

"I remember," Monika nodded with an amused smile and returned to the dishes.

"That's not what I meant." Lightman left his glass on the bench and walked over to the dishwasher. "You have a kid yourself. I completely forgot. How old is she now?"

"Twenty-four so I'm not too sure if I still have 'a kid' exactly," Monika wheeled the bottom cage inside the washer and pulled out the top one to load the glass wear.

Lightman collected the dirty glasses out of the sink and passed them to his girlfriend one by one.

"She doesn't live here though does she?"

"Well no, living with your mother at her age is really lame," Monika took the each glass with a small nod of thanks.

Lightman studied her face for half a second and saw she was making fun of him, even though she was doing a good job of hiding it.

"That's not what I meant," he sounded a little unamused. "She lives with her dad in Africa doesn't she?"

"Not any more."

Something flashed across her face for half a second but that was all the doctor needed to see it all. Pain, loss, remorse, pity.

"She's here now, works pretty close to you actually. Waitresses at a small restaurant."

"While she studies?" Lightman didn't stall the conversation to ask about Monika's sad expression because he was too keen to keep the ball rolling.

He felt really embarrassed that he's spent nearly two months talking about his child without once asking about hers.

"Ah no." Another, different expression flickered across her face. Embarrassment, anger, defeat and a streak of amusement. "She was for a while but that didn't work out so well."

Lightman was curious to know the details but considering how good a lawyer Monika was he knew she wouldn't dare spill private knowledge liberally.

"We should all meet up then. You, me and the two girls."

Lightman wasn't known for his manners but there was a streak of old fashioned formality about him. Monika had been polite enough to welcome his daughter so he naturally felt obliged to introduce himself to hers. Also, he had to know what those expressions were about.

"Sure." Monika's answer was too quick and too positive.

"You don't think it's a good idea."

The dishwasher closed with a click and Monika exhaled slowly before she answered. A little trick she'd learnt in court when she had to phrase something just right.

"You are more than welcome to meet Scarlett Cal," was her answer as she looked him dead in the eye. "I can't promise she'll like you though."

With that she set the machine to wash and left Lightman alone in the kitchen to figure out what she meant.

He found out a fortnight later when Scarlett met the three of them for dinner.

The table was just being set when the doorbell rang. Lightman opened the door to see a young woman with long curly black hair and green eyes wearing jeans and a tan coloured leather jacket.

She shook his hand in a very masculine manner and spoke with a bastardised colonial English accent that told of her African upbringing. She introduced herself without much enthusiasm then went to see her mother.

The four spread themselves out around the dining table like a diamond. Monika and Emily across from one another length wise while Lightman and Scarlett sat at opposite heads of the table.

Monika's best green tablecloth protected the oak table from any spills that might occur when the roasted meat and vegetables were passed around. Lightman had bought a bottle of red wine with him to share with his partner while their daughters drank differently. Emily was allowed as much as she wished of her favourite soft drink while Scarlett sipped at a bottle of Belgium beer.

So far so good.

"I hear things didn't go well for you at college?"

Lightman loved to drive straight into the sensitive questions to collect the micro-expressions and gauge the person before they spoke about themselves.

Emily's eyes shifted sideways anxiously while Monika suppressed her reaction to clench.

"I got expelled," Scarlett replied immediately without changing her face.

"What did you do?" Lightman tried again.

"She broke another girl's nose." Monika took a sip of her wine and stayed calm.

"Really?" Emily was both shocked and thrilled. She looked between Scarlett and Monika to see if they were collaborating on a joke and saw nothing to say they were.

"It's out of context but yes, that was why," Scarlett admitted as she poured a generous amount of gravy over her beef.

"Then put it into context Scarlett. By all means," Monika encouraged.

The daughter met her mother's challenging look and accepted it. Scarlett could tell that Monika wasn't trying to humiliate her, just letting her know that she shouldn't try to hide anything in front of their company.

Lightman saw her support for Scarlett and noted it for later.

"Mum thought it would be good if I joined a sorority," Scarlett began her story but didn't look up from her meal. She had no interest in her audience. "There was this girl, one of those 'never get a job because daddy will pay for everything I have no sense of culpability look at me I'm beautiful' types."

"Like Paris Hilton," Emily supplied.

"Exactly," Scarlett acknowledged her input by tipping her fork then continued. "And this girl went around saying some very nasty things about some perfectly nice but very overweight girls. So I thought it might serve her well to learn a lesson in self consciousness."

"So you broke her nose?" Emily gawked. This was the kind of retaliation against bullies girls her age dreamed of but never acted out.

"I was a little short on creativity at that particular moment," Scarlett admitted but did not look ashamed. In fact if Lightman was reading her right then she was remorseless.

"Well if nothing else you became a hero to the college underdog," Lightman poked.

He got his first rise out of her then. Scarlett lifted her head to meet the man sitting opposite. Her jaw locked into a tight square, her eyes narrowed slowly and she looked him straight in the eye.

"Heroes don't exist Doctor Lightman," she said very clearly and very firmly, "and if they did I certainly would not be one."

A simple enough statement said in a calm enough tone. But Lightman's experience recognised it for what it really was.

A warning.

Monika deliberately asked Emily for the peas to diffuse the tension and they all returned to their meals. She had let Lightman get what he wanted but limits had to be enforced.

They sat through the remainder of the delicious dinner civilly and without incident. There was no further input from Scarlett however. She didn't ask about Lightman's work or about Emily's school and she didn't speak about her interests or the news. Besides excusing herself to go outside and smoke a cigarette she didn't say anything else all evening.

A few hours later Scarlett rose from the table and smoothed the crinkles out of her jeans before giving a sweet but completely insincere smile to her company.

"Well it was nice meeting you all."

"Was it?" Lightman lent back in his chair and made eye contact.

Scarlett thought for a second then replied, "I didn't shove my head in the oven so I suppose you're not too bad."

"Scar-lett," Monika sang her name in a cautionary melody.

"Sorry, sorry." Scarlett smiled in a way that said she was sorry for offending her mother but no one else.

"Never apologise for telling the truth."

Everyone turned their attention to Doctor Lightman. He was sitting in a sideways slouch with one arm hanging over the back of his chair. His right foot rested casually on his left knee and was looking at Scarlett with a deliberately calm face to cover his inquisitiveness.

A classic psychiatrist's pose.

Emily had been around her father often enough to know when he was examining someone. Scarlett's somewhat flippant attitude to violence and strong emotional fort made her nervous and she wasn't completely confident that Lightman couldn't make a fatal mistake.

Her wide eyes moved to Monika who calmed her slightly with her relaxed demeanour. The lawyer was still sitting sedately in her chair and her expression was rather nonchalant. However Emily didn't miss how Monika's hand was spread widely over the tablecloth like a spider ready to strike.

For what seemed like an hour Scarlett and Lightman stared one another down. Their faces were set in stone and both kept their eyes still but behind them a thousand thoughts ran through their heads.

It was like two chess players waiting to make their penultimate move. It would be over in a blink of an eye and could swing either way- to victory or disaster.

Then the break came.

Slowly the corner of Scarlett's mouth rose in a smug smile of satisfaction and she spoke.

"Then to be completely honest you weren't half as bad as I expected. Stay cool kid. Bye Mum."

Without giving Lightman another look she left the room, grabbed her jacket from the coat rack and pulled the front door closed behind her. The silence that followed was so suffocating that Emily had to break it.

"She's really intense."

Stating the obvious was always a good way to start conversation.

"Scarlett's not a bad person," Monika sighed as she poured herself a generous glass of wine, "she's just had to put up with a lot of shit."

"I understand. Believe me." Nobody ever gave teenagers enough recognition for making it through adolescence alive.

"Where did you say she worked again?" Lightman sounded casual. He was still looking in the direction Scarlett had left by.

The sudden bang of the bottle hitting the table was too much for Emily's frayed nerves and made her squeal. It only lasted a moment and hadn't been loud but it still made her blush with embarrassment.

Monika was hunched over her wineglass as if the yoke on her shoulders had finally brought her down. Her hand gripped the wine bottle so tightly the wrapper made a soft creaking noise under her fingers and her eyes were looking straight at Lightman.

"Cal." His name was all she needed to get his full attention. "Leave it alone. Just this once. Leave it alone please."

Lightman promised he would but Monika knew better than to believe him.

Things were calm for a while after that. Lightman continued to enjoy the thrill of having a smart beautiful woman enjoy his company and started to find a permanent place for Monika in his life.

Gillian couldn't have been more pleased. After nearly a decade of ignoring her advice Lightman was finally seeing the how a real human relationship could benefit the soul.

"I really hope you stay with her Dad," Emily said one day as they drove to school. "Monika is really good for you and I like her."

Lightman hadn't needed his daughter's approval but he felt better having it all the same. For the outset he had sworn to himself that Monika would in no way become between him and Emily so to see the friendship growing between the two was pleasing.

But something nagged at him that he couldn't ignore.

"Why doesn't Scarlett ever visit when I'm here?" Lightman had asked one night he stayed at Monika's. "Do I make her uncomfortable?"

The two had gotten to the point in their relationship where they could read in bed together.

"No, she probably doesn't like you," Monika had replied flatly without looking up from her book. "Don't take it personally, she doesn't like most people."

"How did you become favourite then?" Lightman couldn't help but be a little incensed by that statement.

"Maybe because I leave her alone."

Monika didn't have to look at him to get her point across. Years of persuasive arguing in courtrooms had given her the ability to plant an idea in someone's mind without openly expressing it. It was very handy with juries.

"I get it." Lightman put his bookmark in place and rolled over to sleep.

Despite the warnings he was still bothered. He had replayed and deconstructed the dinner in his mind a thousand times but could not isolate what had triggered this fascination.

Nothing bothered him more than a person he couldn't read.

So it was more than coincidence that he went to the diner where Scarlett worked. Two months after he'd made a promise to Monika he wouldn't. Obsession broke all rules.

The diner was everything you could expect from an All-American budget-dining venue. Customers were portioned off into booths made of cushioned vinyl seats with a plastic table in between and condiments on the side.

Lightman sat in a booth away from the louder patrons and took a look around.

At the register there was a lad in his teenage years with an honest expression. Wandering from table to table was a young woman with heavy make-up and earphones pouring coffee apathetically. Looking through to the kitchen Lightman could see an older couple slaving away.

"Hello Doctor Lightman."

Lghtman turned to see Scarlett standing at his shoulder. Like the other waitress she was wearing a shapeless pink dress with a name badge clipped to the breast pocket. This time he could see more of a similarity to her mother as she was wearing a pair of thick frame glasses and held herself up in a professional posture.

"Hello Scarlett. You can call me Cal you know."

"I know."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because Mum made me promise to be polite to you."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because I'm a downright bitch most the time. Or so I've been told."

Their banter was quick and short without any eye contact from Scarlett. It was as if she knew she could take him without having to size him up first. Her green eyes remained on the notepad in her hand and her speech had hardly risen in decibel except for when she'd proclaimed herself to be a 'downright bitch'.

"Fair enough. What's good to order?"

Scarlett took a quick look around the diner and deciding it quiet enough motioned for Lightman to move over. When he had made space she plopped herself down with a thud and kicked her feet up with a relieved sigh. She then took the laminated menu from beside the salt and pepper shakers and set in down between them.

"Well Tom does a nice herb dressing on the fish but the fillet is frozen. I don't know if that sort of thing bothers you." Lightman made a face that said it did so she forged ahead. "Or the hamburgers are made here fresh, they're ok. But if you want something smaller the salads are reasonable just ask for no dressing because Tom tends to soak them."

"The chicken salad then. And a glass of water."

"Can do."

Scarlett scribbled the order down on the notepad and stood up.

"I've been told that if I put more effort into my hair and make-up my tips will improve."

Lightman was surprised. He had been looking at her hair, which she had pulled to one side and curled into ringlets, but he thought he'd been covert enough not to be noticed.

"How's it working out so far?" Lightman took his failure in his stride.

"Not bad" she admitted after a moment's thought. "My subway ticket and lunch are paid for. Why are you here anyway?"

Scarlett decided to make eye contact then. Her gaze was unimpressed but not so passionately disinterested that she didn't want an answer.

"Emily has a curriculum day at school so we're meeting for lunch." Lightman spoke confidently because he was telling the truth. The beauty of having second priorities was that your face never gave them away.

Scarlett gave him a condescending frown and brought a hand to her hip.

"So instead of letting her go out with her friends and enjoy her day off you're making her meet her dad for lunch? Do you have her fingerprints on file too?"

"After lunch she's free to make her own plans. I'm just making sure she meets her end of the deal."

Scarlett rolled her eyes and sighed.

"You should go easier on her. She's a good kid."

"Yeah well you haven't been around long enough to know all she's gotten up to." Lightman gave her the same look he gave every childless person who offered input on his daughter.

"Whatever," Scarlett wasn't about to get into a parenting debate and shrugged. "I'm just saying you're a lucky parent. Compared to me at her age she's a saint."

"I can imagine."

"No you can't. Not by half."

Lightman watched her walk away towards the kitchen going unnoticed by the customers. The bell above the door rang and there was a light whoosh sound as the door scraped across the linoleum floor.

A tall unshaven man walked in and behind came Emily. The man didn't hold the door open for her so he had to catch it with her elbow. She saw her father waiting and headed towards the booth.

What happened next was faster than Lightman could comprehend.

Emily and Scarlett had just about cross each other when Scarlett wrapped her arms around the younger girl and pulled her under the unoccupied table beside them in a swift, coordinated dive.

The unshaven stranger had already fired one round from his hand gun before they landed out of harms way.

"Open the fucking register!" he yelled and pointed the weapon in the boy's terrified face.

People screamed and some made movements to flee but the gunman stopped them with a sweep of his arm.

"Nobody move! Don't anybody move!" he ordered waving his gun back and forth in front of him.

By this time Lightman was already crouching under is table with his eyes fixed on his daughter's location. Every scrap of self control he possessed was counteracting his urge to run over to Emily because he knew it would only make him a prime target.

His heart thudded powerfully in his chest and his own breathing was louder in his ears than the whimpering of the woman sitting behind him. What felt to him like a lifetime was really only seconds but the fear for his child's safety dragged the time out to torturous proportions.

The bell gave a single jerking chime, the door slammed closed and there was silence. A silence that lasted maybe a second before the screaming revived and people rushed to exit many colliding with the furniture they had hidden under.

Ungraciously Lightman crawled out from under his refuge and was kicked in the shoulder by someone running to the door. Once balanced on his feet he sprinted to Emily without looking around for anyone else.

Under the booth Emily was curled up with her knees under her chin and hands over her ears. Her face was wet but she wasn't sobbing.

"You all right love?" Lightman asked gently and cautiously touched her arm.

Emily was alarmed by the contact but once she recognised him threw herself around him. Lightman hugged her back tightly and lifted her out onto the vinyl seat.

"You're ok hon," he reassured her as he stroked her brown hair. "He's gone and it's all over. Are you hurt?"

Emily shook her head then pulled her face out of his shirt to look around the empty diner with wide eyes.

"Where's Scarlett?" she asked with a gurgle in her voice.

It was the first time Lightman had thought to look for someone else too. He looked around quickly and got a survey of the abandoned building.

In the kitchen the old couple where yabbering loudly in a foreign language which made it hard to tell if they were relieved or angry. By the coffee machine the moody waitress was trembling with her hand still on the coffee pot.

Scarlett was standing behind the empty register holding a phone to her ear with one hand and was holding the hand of the young lad in the other. He was sitting on a stool hunched over and crying.

But Lightman saw more than this when he looked around. While he sat quietly soothing Emily he could see the impact on all the staff.

The owners were angry and looking to lay blame, probably because they'd been through the ordeal before. The coffee girl was too shocked to express any feelings for the present and the register lad was so glad to be alive that it had brought him to tears.

Scarlett had no expression.