Title: Richard's Letter
Distrubution: If you want it, ask.
Feedback: I'd be thrilled. But be nice, constructive criticism and no
flames, please. Loisarah@hotmail.com
Dislcaimer: Characters property of Paramount and Pet Fly, I do not own and
am not making any money off this story. Don't sue.
Timeline: after season 4
Summary: Richard writes Westlake a letter
Author's Notes: As you can tell by the content, I started this AGES ago
and decided to work on it while going through some old files. I hope you
Spoilers: An old Acquaintance
"Morning, Westlake. Oooh, coffee, thanks." Frankie said as he took a cup
from the tray she carried.
"No problem, Frankie," she said, taking one out for herself. She took the
last cup out of the tray for Joe and set it on the table in the kitchen
area. "Joe's not here yet?" she asked as she threw away the cardboard
"Nope. I was just watching the news before our new mandatory phone
conference with Catlett," Frankie replied as he took a muffin and the
coffee Westlake brought him and walked back to his seat in front of his
computer and the main video screen. A news channel was on, the volume
"Yeah, can't wait for that," she sarcastically replied, following Frankie.
Frankie turned back to the tv and turned the volume back up, as Westlake
took a seat beside him.
"...reports from the AP news agency are that the journalist killed
while covering the action in Kabul was 35 year old
photojournalist Richard Evans..."
"Why does the name Richard Evans sound familiar?" Frankie asked, then
turned to see Westlake staring at the picture flashing on the screen
briefly, her face pale.
"Oh, no, is that...
"Yeah, that's Richard. My Richard, oh, god..."
Joe pulled up in front of Westlake's house, and walked slowly up the front
walk to her door. He wasn't sure whether or not she would want him there.
She was grieving her ex husband ... he hadn't wanted to call and ask her if
she wanted him there, so he just drove over after Frankie told him why
Westlake had gone home for the day.
She answered the door, and he could tell she'd been crying, but she seemed
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, come in," she said as she turned and walked away from the door and
into her living room. Joe shut the door and followed her to the couch.
She sat down on the couch, still holding a crumpled tissue in her hand, but
not crying, just sitting calmly.
Joe sat down next to her and she leaned towards him, her head on his
shoulder. "I'm glad you came over," she told him.
"I wasn't sure if you'd want me here," he began to say, but she cut him
"Not earlier, but I'm glad you're here now."
He put his arm around her and looked at the pictures scattered across the
coffee table in front of her. Wedding pictures... of her and Richard.
"I always gave Richard a hard time about not moving on, but I guess I
didn't do so well myself, since I still had all of the pictures."
Joe looked at the one on top... Cameron, younger... she looked very young, he
had to admit, was dressed in a long gown, simple, but very beautiful. The
veil was also very simple, and her hair looked much longer that it was now,
swept up on top of her head. She looked beautiful, holding the bouquet of
white roses. Joe studied the other person in the picture, a dashing young
man, looking a few years older than Cameron, tall and dark, the whole
cliché of tall, dark, and handsome. She was holding his hand, and both of
them were smiling, possibly laughing in the candid photo.
Joe opened his mouth to say something, but when he noticed how she'd closed
her eyes and leaned into him, clutching her tissue tightly, he closed his
mouth and shifted so he could take her into his arms and hold her.
A few days later, Cameron came home to a small package from a law office,
one she recognized as Richard's attorney. She unlocked her door and
stepped inside, dropping her purse and keys on the small table inside her
door and staring at the package still in her hand, confused. She took a
deep breath and opened it, finding a small jewelry box and two letters.
She opened the letter addressed to her from Richard first.
As I write this, I know you're thinking about all the times you told me
that we divorced to put our past behind us and move on, but I had to write
anyway. I just hope you read this.
I accepted a job covering the war in Afghanistan. You knew this was a job
I had to take. I just wanted to tie up loose ends before I go. I don't
think this will be like any action I've covered before and while I want to
go, I know I'm taking risks.
I love you. I always will. As I hope you'll always love me, even though
it is not enough to keep us together. You'll always be in my thoughts
somewhere, even though I don't send you flowers on your birthday anymore.
You did promise to think of me from time to time, and I am holding you to
Pray for me, as I pray for you, in your job. I am proud of you. I know I
never told you that when we were together, or afterwards, but I am proud of
you. First in your class at the academy, and a detective already, and good
at what you do. From what you told me about your father, I am sure he'd be
proud as well. If I don't come back, I'll be up there looking for him to
tell you how much you've accomplished, but I'm sure he'd already know.
Still thinking of you,
Cameron stared at the letter through blurry eyes. She couldn't believe he
was gone, and he was right, even though they couldn't make it work, they'd
always love each other.
She walked into her kitchen and pulled a few tissues out of the box and
wiped at the tears that had escaped, still clutching the letters and
jewelry box in her other hand.
Taking a deep breath she put down Richard's letter and the box and opened
the second letter, addressed by the law firm. A short letter from the firm
and a small hand written note were enclosed.
I regret to inform you of the death of Richard Evans. Mr. Evans left
instructions for the occasion of his death, and he wished for the following
note and the property enclosed to be sent to you.
Once again, our regrets,
Hart, Swinney, and Stewart
I wanted to send you my letter before I left, but I couldn't. I left it
with my attorney in the case of my death. I wanted you to know how I felt,
and I wanted you to have this present. Just take it and think of me.
With a shaky hand Cameron opened the jewelry box and gasped at the diamond
necklace. She knew it had belonged to Richard's mother. A platinum
setting with an antique pendant. Richard's father had gotten it for her on
their first anniversary, she'd loved that necklace, and had wanted to pass
it along to a granddaughter. The thought that that hadn't happened made
Cameron sigh. She took out the necklace and put it on, hooking a finger
around the chain as she closed her eyes. "I'll think of you, Richard, I
promise. I love you, too," she whispered.
© 2004 Loisarah