Page 6 of Fractured Memories

“That’s precisely what the killer is afraid of.” Noah crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Don’t you get it, Felicity? This guy won’t quit. He’ll come for you again.”

“I know.” Felicity didn’t enjoy being on anyone’s hit list, but there was nothing she could do about it. She jutted up her chin. “I’m a Texas Ranger, capable of handling myself, and I won’t be frightened away from doing my job. This is personal, Noah. I need to finish what I started.”

His jaw clenched. Felicity held her breath, waiting, silently praying he wouldn’t kick her off the case.

She had to do this.

For Brooke. And for herself.

FIVE

The Knoxville Police Department was a squat red-bricked building with large windows overlooking Main Street. Noah held the main door open for Felicity. One day in the hospital had done wonders for her. Her complexion glowed with youth and vitality. She wore the standard Texas Ranger uniform—a button-up shirt, blazer, and khakis—but on her, the normally stark clothing was feminine. Her curls were tamed into a low ponytail, but one rebellious strand flirted with her dark brown eyes. Confidence and determination rode the line of her narrow shoulders.

Noah was deeply concerned about last night’s attack and the potential for more threats on her life. His instinct was to protect, even if it meant going against her wishes. But Felicity was his equal, a woman capable of assessing the risks and making her own decisions. He needed to respect her choices. Even if he disagreed. Even if they made him nervous. It wasn’t his place to tell her what todo. The best thing he could do for Felicity was work hard to catch the men responsible for hurting her and put them behind bars.

The squad room smelled like a mixture of burnt coffee and pizza. Cubicles sectioned off work stations comprising a desk, computer, and phone. Some, like Noah’s, were assigned. Others operated as floaters for people like Felicity who were assisting on cases. The desk next to his cubicle was free. He stopped in front of it. “You can set up here.”

“Great.” She set her laptop bag down on the desk. The scent of strawberries tickled his senses. It was her perfume. Or her shampoo. Noah wasn’t sure which, but the distracting scent had caught his attention on the ride from the hospital to the station.

Hayley Montgomery, the assistant chief, spotted them. Her dark hair was cut short and mottled scars marred her right hand. She jutted a thumb over her shoulder. “Chief Garcia is in the conference room. He asked me to send y’all in that direction when you arrived.”

“Appreciate it.” Noah gave her a nod before escorting Felicity around the other desks to the conference room. An oval table and chairs took up most of the space. Sunlight streamed from the small window overlooking the rear parking lot, creating shapes on the whiteboard taking up most of one wall. Someone had attached Brooke’s photo with a magnet to the board.

Chief of Police Sam Garcia sat at the head of the table. Deep lines bracketed his mouth and wore groovesalong his forehead. Pushing fifty, he had the beginning of a pot belly, but staved it off with regular exercise. His salt-and-pepper hair was cropped short, but thick and full.

Sam wasn’t just Noah’s boss. He was also his uncle. Their relationship had been his one hesitation about joining the department last year. Mixing family and work could be tricky. Sam treated him fairly, and Noah never took advantage of his connection to the chief, but still… it was a delicate dance that required constant consideration. Favoritism of any kind could undercut Sam’s authority.

Seated next to the chief was Officer Tucker Colburn. His uniform was sharply pressed, a cowboy hat resting on the table in front of him. A former Army Ranger, he kept his auburn hair cut close in military fashion. Since joining the department, Noah had worked several cases with Tucker. An easy friendship had formed between the two men based on mutual respect. Tucker was conscientious and hardworking, an excellent cop. His wife, Leah, was good friends with Felicity. They’d gone to school together, along with Cassie.

Texas Ranger Grady West stood next to the whiteboard. Felicity’s colleague had worked several cases in Knoxville, and it didn’t surprise Noah to discover his presence at the meeting. Company A, led by Lieutenant Vikki Rodriguez, was a tight-knit group. One of their own had been attacked. It wasn’t something any of them would stand for.

Everyone stood and greeted each other. Noah didn’t miss the way Grady embraced Felicity in a sisterly hug.The lawman was happily married, with two kids of his own, so there was no romantic interest there. Grady released Felicity and extended his hand to Noah. “Nice to see you again, Detective.”

Noah nodded. “Nice to see you too, although I wish it were under different circumstances.”

“Agreed.” Shadows marred the skin under his eyes, and his jaw sported a five-o’clock shadow. He looked like a man who’d been up all night. Probably had. It would’ve taken hours for the arson investigator to arrive and for the crime scene unit to process the burned house.

“Let’s all sit.” Chief Garcia gestured to the chairs around the table. “Ranger West was about to fill us in on what he knows so far about last night’s attack.”

Grady frowned. “Unfortunately, I have little to share. The arson investigator won’t issue a final report for a few days, but has an initial assessment. After pushing Felicity down the stairs and tying her up, the perpetrator broke the gas line leading to the stove and then, using some kind of delayed incendiary device, created an explosion that led to the fire. A witness reported seeing a silver truck fleeing the neighborhood, but didn’t glimpse the driver nor did he jot down the license plate.”

“What about security cameras?” Noah asked. “Homeowners are using them more and more these days.”

“Unfortunately, nothing yet. It’s possible the perpetrator hid his truck in the woods near the cabin to avoid driving through the neighborhood streets.” Grady nodded toward Felicity. “Ranger Capshaw sensedsomeone watching her in the woods but dismissed the instinct, believing it was nerves. It’s my assessment the killer snuck inside the house after her. He intended to make her death look like an accident. First, he pushed her down the stairs. When that didn’t work, he tied her up and caused a natural gas explosion.”

Chief Garcia’s expression was stone cold. “I don’t take kindly to anyone being attacked in my jurisdiction, but it’s especially insulting when it’s a member of law enforcement. A perpetrator willing to murder a Texas Ranger is a danger to everyone. Are we certain this attack is connected to Brooke Peterson’s murder?”

“It’s the most logical conclusion.” Felicity turned toward the older man. “After the attacker pushed me down the stairs, he said I should’ve left things alone. I believe he’s referring to my request to reopen the investigation.”

The chief grunted. “What do we have on the Peterson murder?”

Noah stood. “Not much. The file is pretty thin.”

Tucker pushed a closed accordion folder across the table and Noah caught it with one hand. He opened it and laid out several photographs of the crime scene. Brooke lay on the living room floor. Her blonde hair formed a halo around her head. Blood pooled under her body and stained her top. Magazines from the overturned coffee table were scattered around. Her murder had been brutal.

Noah’s chest squeezed tight, and he tossed a sympathetic look toward Felicity. She nodded slightly inresponse, but kept her expression professional and blank. He recognized it as a self-protection mechanism. Knew that underneath that carefully constructed mask, her heart was bleeding just like his was. It was something they shared. A passion to defend the innocent.

“Brooke Peterson.” Noah locked away his own emotions, focusing on the task at hand. “Twenty-five. Caucasian. Unmarried, no children. She was shot twice in the chest by an unknown perpetrator nearly fifteen years ago. Her purse was hanging from a hook next to the door and her cell phone was resting on the couch. Robbery wasn’t the motive. No sign of sexual assault either. There was no sign of forced entry, so the prevailing theory was that she knew her killer and let him—” Noah paused “—or her, in.”

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