MRS. WEST

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟝

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"You're up early."

Cameron says, rubbing his eyes as he trots downstairs. He's shirtless with shorts hanging dangerously low to his hips–it seems like he just came out of the shower.

"Court case," I reply, packing my evidence into my bag. It was safe to say, I think I got everything I needed in order for Justin Deyes to not meet his death sentence. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah, one second." He says it like he's good to go, but his hair isn't even dry yet. If I had my car back, I wouldn't have to wait for Cameron West to finish getting ready.

He throws a leather jacket over his shirt before strapping his watch on. "Okay, let's go."

I sigh. He grabs his car keys to the SUV and we both walk outside. The morning air is sharp against my skin as we step outside. Cameron walks ahead of me, unlocking the SUV with a quick click.

I slide into the passenger seat, setting my bag carefully at my heels, making sure nothing shifts. The last thing I need is for my files to go flying everywhere right before court. Justin Deyes' life was quite literally sitting right here in these papers.

Cameron gets in a second later, starting the engine. "Dix."

"What?" I pull my skirt to keep it from riding up.

"You trust yourself, right?" He asks, glancing at me briefly before pulling out of the driveway.

I finally look up. "What kind of question is that?"

"A question you should answer."

"Yes," I respond shortly. "Yes, I do."

"Then why are you acting like you don't?"

I furrow my brows. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are." he taps two fingers on the wheel. "You only do this when you're overthinking."

I hate that he knows so much about me. It was like I was glass and he could see right through me.

"I'm not overthinking!" I retort. "It's called preparation."

"There's a difference."

"And I know the difference."

"Do you?" He says it so lightly, and that's what makes me turn fully toward him.

"Yes, Cameron, I do."

He nods once, like he's done. "Alright. Okay."

I stare at him for a couple seconds more before leaning back in my seat, sighing. "This isn't just some case. They're trying to put him on death row."

"Yeah," he mutters quietly. "I know."

I turn to him slightly. "What? How do you know?"

Cameron laughs. "Dix, I'm head of fire department. The fire was big when I got there–didn't it kill like, three people?

How did I not remember that? If I had asked Cameron about it, maybe I would finally have some concrete evidence to help Justin. I'm guessing he has noticed how quiet I've gone, because he rests his free hand on my thigh– something he does to keep me from thinking.

"Are you okay?" He asks, stopping at a red light.

I snap out of my thoughts and glance at him briefly. "W...why didn't you tell me about this?"

His eyes immediately soften. "I'm sorry, Dixie. It was like a normal fire, I didn't know it was related to your case."

"What did you see?" I ask him immediately.

Cameron glances at me, caught a little off guard by the sudden shift.

"...What?"

"At the fire," my voice is tighter and I turn toward him completely now. "What did you see?"

He exhales lightly, one hand still on the wheel, the other resting near the center console. "Dix, I told you-"

"No, not like that," I cut in, holding my face with my hands. "I need details, Cameron."

He looks at me confused. Like what I asked was confusing. I glance towards the road in front of me, knowing the courthouse is getting closer.

"You need details now?" he asks.

"Yes!" I say immediately. "Right now."

He sighs before stopping at a red light. "The fire was big when we got there."

"Where was it exactly?"

"Lower part of the building," he says. "Side area. The flames were already pushing outward."

"Outward how?" I press quickly.

"It was spreading along the exterior," he explains. "Not just contained inside one unit."

My mind started racing. That doesn't match cleanly with what I have. Focus, Dixie!

"Was it contained when you got there?" I ask.

"No," he says. "Not even close."

"It was pretty fast. Like, weirdly fast." he continues.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," he says, glancing at me briefly, "it had time to build before we got there. Or something helped it along."

"Accelerant?" I ask. My fingers tighten slightly in my lap.

"Could be," he shrugs. "I wasn't investigating, Dix. I was putting it out."

I roll my eyes at his statement before questioning again.

"Okay, okay did you see anyone like, outside around the building?"

He shakes his head. Shit, this was not good.

"Not clearly," he says. "There were people, yeah. Residents, bystanders, but nothing that stood out at the time."

"That doesn't make sense," I mutter under my breath.

"What doesn't?"

I press my temple as a million thoughts go through my brain. It almost hurts how fast I'm thinking. None of what he said lined up with Justin's statements.

"Baby," Cameron says, "why are you asking me all this?"

I ignore the question.

"Did you see the point of origin?"

"No," he sighs, rubbing his eye. "That's not my job."

"But you must've had an idea-"

"I didn't," he interrupts. "There just wasn't any reason for me to."

I press my lips together in a tight line before poking my tongue through my cheek.

Come on, Dixie.

Think.

Think.

Think!

"Where's the fire marshal report?" I ask suddenly.

"At home," he says.

My head snaps toward him, a wave of disappointment washing over me."What?"

"It's at home," he repeats. "Why would I carry that around?"

"Cameron," I say, my voice tightening, "I need that report."

"Okay," he says slowly. "Then we'll get it later-"

"There is no later, Cameron!" I snap, gesturing with my hands. "I'm going to court now."

His eyes soften as he glances at me briefly. "I didn't know this was related to your case."

"I know," I retort again, but it's just frustration spilling over. "I know you didn't."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

Why, just why didn't I tell him? He's the head of the fire department, of course he would know something. It could've been mentioned days ago. Weeks even.

I let out a short, sharp breath. "Because I don't tell you about my cases."

"Yeah, you don't." He replies.

My chest tightens slowly; it almost feels like I'm suffocating.

And no, I'm not being dramatic.

"Did anyone mention the landlord?"

"No," he says flatly.

"Did you see him?"

"I don't know what he looks like."

Right. Of course.

"Dix," Cameron says quietly, "are you okay?"

My legs start to bounce, and my brain tunes out everything he says. There were too many gaps, nothing was adding up, and if opposing counsel had a strong lead, Justin Deyes was in fact going to die. I can't let that happen.

"I don't have enough," I say, over and over again, but it's barely audible.

"Baby," Cameron says, his voice steady but careful, "you're spiraling."

"I am not spiraling!" I snap immediately.

"Yes. Yes, you are," he says, glancing at me. "You're doing that thing-"

"What thing?" I cut in sharply.

"That thing where you-"

"Don't," I interrupt, my voice rising. "Don't analyze me right now."

I watch as his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. "I'm trying to help you out here."

"By doing what?" I shoot back. "Telling me I'm overthinking is not the help I'm looking for?"

"You are overthinking-"

"Oh my gosh!" I let out a harsh laugh, shaking my head. "This is exactly why I don't talk to you about my work."

"What does that mean?" he asks, his voice firm.

"It means this," I gesture vaguely between us, letting my frustration out. "This right here–this dismissive, 'you're overthinking' thing- is bull!"

"Stop trying to simplify everything. It's not that easy, Cameron!" I continue.

"I never said it was," he replies, controlled.

"But you're acting like it is," I push. "Like I can just 'calm down' and everything will be fine."

"I didn't say that either."

"You're implying it."

"I did not-"

"Yes. Yes, you did."

The car fills with tension so thick it feels like it's pressing in on my chest. Like I'm supposed to carry it like a boulder on my shoulders.

"Dix," he says, more firmly now, "I'm not your enemy here."

"Then stop acting like you know everything!"

"I don't know everything," he says. I can tell his calm; carefree demeanor is gone. "You don't tell me anything."

That keeps me quiet because I know he's right. The courthouse comes into view in a couple minutes, and I clench my bag hard. Cameron pulls into a spot and parks perfectly before cutting the engine. My hand is on the door handle, but a warm hand wraps around my wrist.

"Baby, please look at me," he says quietly. I finally turn around, and he doesn't look angry or frustrated.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"I shouldn't have pushed like that," he continues. "And I shouldn't have made you feel like I was minimizing what you're dealing with."

I look down at my manicured nails, then up at the ceiling. Anywhere but his eyes. Anywhere but his haunting eyes.

"I have to go," I say, checking my watch.

I open the door and despite what I said, his hand wraps around my wrist even tighter and he pulls my face towards him, giving me a warm kiss on my forehead.

"I love you." he murmurs, still holding on to my arm.

The way he says it is so simple- like it's just some word. It's so carefree and certain, like sunlight in the middle of a storm.

I close my eyes for half a second like I want to savor this moment.

Just a second.

Then I pull back with a quiet sigh.

"Okay," I breathe, not quite meeting his eyes. "I'll see you later."

Before he can say more, I get out, shutting the door behind me. I adjust my bag on my shoulder then start to walk.

Then I walk faster. It's almost like I'm running. My heels click against the pavement as I make my way to the courthouse.

I'm expecting to see the judge, his security guards and maybe just a couple other people there, but oh boy am I wrong. When I push open the grand doors, I'm met with more people than I'm comfortable with. My stomach drops. As if this day couldn't get any worse.

I scan the room quickly. Justin Deyes is sitting, and he looks worse than before. There's a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his legs are bouncing. Opposing counsel and his client are there, and more than a dozen bystanders are seated, waiting for this to start.

Opposing counsel wasn't even setting up– he was ready. I'm not even early or on time.

I was late. I tighten the grip on my bag and walk down to my spot. My expression remains neutral and professional even if everything inside me is anything but. Right now, panic isn't an option. Even if it's the only thing I feel.