Fractured Memories (Badge of Honor #1)

Chapter 5

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 to do. 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 grooves along 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 sensed someone 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 in response, 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.”

The chief’s eyebrows rose. “Is there reason to believe her killer was a woman?”

“An empty glass on the end table contained smeared lipstick marks but no fingerprints.” He riffled through the file and found a photograph of the item. “The investigating officer believed it’d been wiped down.” He tapped on the picture of Brooke. “She wasn’t wearing lipstick at the time of her death. Of course, that doesn’t mean much. We have no way of knowing when the glass was placed there.”

Felicity drummed her fingers against the table. “Brooke wasn’t the best housekeeper. She often left discarded dishes lying around the house for days.” She tilted her head. “Is the glass still in evidence? We might be able to pull the lip mark from the rim. ”

It was a good thought. Lips were as individual as fingerprints and could be used for comparison. It was a shame the initial investigators hadn’t considered it.

Noah shook his head. “Afraid not. According to the report, once the chief of police heard there were no fingerprints on the glass, he discarded the item as unnecessary to the investigation.” He frowned. “Chief Walters, the former Knoxville PD chief of police, made a lot of mistakes while working cases. Nothing that rose to the level of corruption, but there were several bad calls.”

Tucker gaffed. “That’s a diplomatic way of putting it.”

Chief Garcia held up a hand. “We all know my predecessor didn’t do a great job running the department. There’s no need to belabor the point. Right now, we need to work with what we have. Keep going, Noah.”

“The only fingerprints recovered from the home belonged to Brooke and Felicity.” Noah read from a report. “The bullets recovered from Brooke’s body were 9mm. She didn’t own a handgun, so it’s believed the perpetrator brought the weapon with him.”

“That indicates the murder was planned.” Chief Garcia turned to Felicity. “So why didn’t the killer know about you?”

“I wasn’t supposed to be there. My dad was an emergency room doctor. On the night of Brooke’s murder, there was a pileup on the freeway and he was called in to assist. Dad dropped me off at Brooke’s around seven.” Her brow wrinkled. “I remember arriving, discussing the need to do my math homework, and then…” She spread he r hands. “Everything after that is a blank. From the police reports, I know they found me hiding in an upstairs closet in the guest bedroom.”

“Did you often go to Brooke’s house unexpectedly?”

“No. My dad had a regular schedule and I was almost sixteen. He’d left me home alone while he was at work, but that night, Dad was worried he’d be roped into staying for a double shift.” Felicity’s gaze dropped to the crime scene photos, pain vibrating through her voice. “Brooke never complained, never made me feel like I was annoying to hang out with. I know Dad was paying her, but she genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time with me. She treated me like a little sister.”

The room grew quiet. Noah had the urge to cross the room and hug Felicity, but that would be unprofessional. Still, it tore his insides to witness her grief.

It seemed Chief Garcia shared the desire to comfort Felicity because he placed a meaty hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Sounds like Brooke was someone special. You have my word that we’re going to do everything possible to find her killer. And your attacker.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The chief turned to Noah. “Any suspects?”

“One. Brooke’s half-brother, Daniel Peterson.” He pulled out a mugshot of the man from the file and attached it to the whiteboard. Daniel had dirty blonde hair and pitted cheeks. “Daniel has been arrested several times on possession charges and neighbors witnessed a yelling match between him and Brooke a few days before the murder. Police questioned him repeatedly, but Daniel had a rock-solid alibi. He was at work on the night of the murder. Fellow employees confirmed it.”

Chief Garcia tilted his head. “Still, it might be a good idea to question him. Where is Daniel now?”

“He lives in town. Daniel’s divorced now, with two kids, and is employed as a sanitation worker. His last arrest for possession was one year after Brooke’s death. After that, it seems he got sober. He’s been out of trouble ever since.” Noah pulled out another report and slid it across the table to his boss. “There’s another potential suspect we should look into. Kurtis Ferguson.”

Grady sat up straighter. “As in judge Kurtis Ferguson? The criminal judge?”

“Yes. According to the initial interviews, Kurtis and Brooke dated briefly but broke up six months before her murder. He stopped by her house earlier in the day to pick up some of his things. Several of Brooke’s friends hinted that the relationship was volatile, but no one would outright say so.” Noah shrugged. “It could be innocent—people are often unwilling to speak ill of others—or there could be more to Brooke and Kurtis’s breakup than initially thought.”

“Their relationship was on-and-off, if I remember correctly,” Felicity added. “Brooke didn’t talk with me about it much, but I know she cared about him. She also had a best friend, Melanie something-or-other. They worked together at the bank.”

“Melanie Carpenter,” Tucker piped in. “Her family owns the Knoxville Bank. Melanie still works there as the manager. She’s also married to Kurtis now. No children. ”

Felicity’s brows arched. “Brooke’s ex and her best friend got married? When did they start dating?”

Noah met her gaze. “Right before Brooke’s murder. Neither of them have a criminal record, and there’s nothing in the case file to indicate either of them were involved. Still, they should be questioned. If for no other reason than to learn what Brooke’s life was like in the weeks before her death.”

“Okay.” Chief Garcia pointed at the case files. “Noah and Felicity, I want you to work Brooke’s murder case from scratch. Talk to everyone all over again, starting with her brother, and compare their notes to the original interviews. Let’s see what shakes loose.”

Noah nodded. The chief’s plan was exactly what he’d intended to do before the assault on Felicity. The case file was small, the interview notes severely lacking. By questioning everyone in Brooke’s life again, they might uncover a motive for her murder.

“In the meantime, I’d like Grady and Tucker to continue working the assault on Felicity,” Chief Garcia continued. “While I know these cases are likely connected, I don’t want to risk overlooking something. Felicity was attacked by a man. There’s a possibility—because of the glass in Brooke’s living room—that she was killed by a woman. We could be dealing with two different perpetrators.”

Noah’s heart kicked against his ribs. His boss didn’t say it, but the clock was ticking. Somewhere, locked in Felicity’s memories, was the murderer’s identity.

And the killer knew it.