Fractured Memories (Badge of Honor #1)

Chapter 11

ELEVEN

Noah’s muscles were tense, and he was sporting the beginning of a headache when he turned onto the dirt road leading to the homeless camp. Afternoon sunlight glinted off the hood of the Tahoe. The inside of the cab smelled like french fries and warm burgers. Thanks to the shooting at the gas station, he’d chucked the meals purchased at the fast-food place—the summer heat had ruined them—but the bottles of water and the toiletries were fine.

Felicity gripped the handle over the door and peered through the windshield. “This place is pretty remote.”

“Most of the residents prefer it. Out here, no one bothers them. The property belongs to the Jameson family. It’s tied up in probate court, and while technically the tenants are trespassing, no one has demanded they be removed.”

Ahead, a clearing appeared. Tents dotted the landscape, some disappearing into the trees. A common firepit was available to cook food or warm up if the night was chilly. Several beat-up vehicles sat under the shade created by thick pine branches.

Rick Paulson, unofficial leader, leaned against a makeshift table. His tennis shoes and T-shirt had holes and his jeans were muddy. A thick beard covered the lower half of his face. He squinted suspiciously until his gaze registered Noah at the wheel and then his expression softened.

“Let me do most of the talking.” Noah cast a warning glance toward Felicity. “And stick close. These people don’t take kindly to strangers.”

She arched a brow. “Sounds like I should be worried.”

“Naw. You’re physically safe, but rub them the wrong way, and everyone in camp will clam up. They protect each other.”

“Got it.”

They exited the vehicle. Rick ambled over as Noah lifted the rear hatch. He eyed the supplies in the back of the Tahoe before turning a judgmental gaze on Felicity. “Who’s that?”

“Ranger Capshaw. She’s with me.” Noah pulled out a bag of supplies and handed it to the older man before grabbing several cases of water. “You want these in the usual spot?”

“Yep.” Rick spit a wad of tobacco juice toward a crop of nearby weeds. He took another bag from Felicity’s outstretched hand so she could grab bottles of Gatorade. “’ Preciate the water. Heat wave a’coming and the stream is getting low. By August, we’re gonna have to move someplace else if this keeps up.”

Noah hauled the water onto the rickety table. The wood groaned in protest under the weight. The back of his neck itched with the feel of eyes on him, but he ignored the sensation. Most of the residents liked to steer clear of law enforcement. Some of them were addicts who’d had run-ins with the police and would again in the future. Others were simply leery. Once Noah and Felicity left, the people hiding in their tents would emerge to take advantage of the supplies.

Rick, for all his rudeness to strangers, was a fair leader. He doled out donations equally and never kept more for himself. Drug and alcohol abuse was tolerated in the camp, but not violence. Any theft resulted in immediate expulsion. Noah often wondered why Rick pursued this way of life. He’d asked him once, but the man had simply said that he liked being free to do as he pleased.

Noah glanced at the small riverbank several yards away. Sure enough, the water level was low. The camp used it for drinking, washing their clothes, and bathing. He envisioned heat stroke and death if the group didn’t have enough access to fluids for hydration. “I’ll let Pastor Isaiah at the church know. He’ll organize a donation drive for y’all.”

Rick spat another wad of tobacco juice in the weeds. “Don’t bother. That man comes out here and preaches at us. We don’t like it. Don’t need none of that Jesus business.”

In Noah’s opinion, everyone could use more of that Jesus business, but he kept that thought to himself. “Easier to have a conversation or two with the pastor in exchange for water than packing up the entire camp.”

The older man grunted, lifting a filthy ball cap from his head. Three strands of gray hair clung to his scalp. “I’ll think about it.” He settled the hat back in place and then squinted at Noah before jerking his chin toward Felicity. “Is she another do-gooder? Or is someone here in trouble with the law?”

“No one is in trouble, but we’d like to speak to Jeremy.”

Rick’s gaze narrowed. “If all you want to do is talk, then why bring her?”

Noah ignored the way the man refused to speak to or use Felicity’s name. Yes, Rick was being purposefully rude, but calling it out would be counterproductive. “Ranger Capshaw is partnering with me on a case. Again, Jeremy isn’t in trouble. We just need to ask him a few questions.” He held Rick’s gaze. “I’ve never lied to you before and have no reason to start now.”

Rick mulled that over and then spat more tobacco juice. “Jeremy’s in his usual spot, but he ain’t doing so great.” He pointed to his temple. “Ain’t been right in the head for a couple of days. Tried to get him to eat yesterday, but he refused.”

“Mind if I take him a few bottles of water?”

“Nope.” He rummaged around inside a sack and removed some beef jerky and a package of crackers. Rick tossed them to Noah. “Take those too. Maybe he’ll eat something.”

With a tilt of his head to indicate Felicity should follow, Noah shifted to a worn path weaving through the trees. He’d visited Jeremy enough times over the years to know where his regular campsite was. He kept his voice pitched low as the woods swallowed them up. “If Rick is right, and Jeremy is having a paranoid episode, then we probably won’t get much from him. This may have been a wasted trip.”

“That’s okay. It’s worth a go.” She waved a fly away from her face. “Do you visit him often? Jeremy, I mean.”

“From time to time.” Noah ducked under a low-hanging branch. “One of the first call outs I responded to after joining the Knoxville PD was an attack on a woman in the homeless camp. While talking with her, a suspect came out of the woods and attacked me with a tire iron. Jeremy jumped into the fray with no concern for himself. His involvement is probably the only reason I’m here today.”

He didn’t want to think about the possibility that Jeremy, years earlier, had killed Brooke. Kurtis’s statement had been suspect. Like Felicity, Noah didn’t trust the man one iota, but he couldn’t allow his feelings to cloud his judgment. He had to follow the evidence. No matter where it led. “I’ve tried several times to convince Jeremy to get into rehab, but he refuses. I pray for him all the time though. One day, I hope he’ll accept help. ”

Felicity was quiet for a long moment. “In case I haven’t said it lately, you’re a good man, Noah Hodge.”

Her words sent a warmth shooting straight through him. Noah was tempted to reach for her hand, but resisted. They were wading into dangerous territory, and now was not the time to let his heart rule his head. Instead, he gripped the bag of supplies tighter. “Just for the record, Fee, I think you’re amazing too.”

They continued in silence. The path grew slimmer as the woods became thicker. Overgrowth threatened to trip Noah. Sweat dripped down his back and a mosquito buzzed his ear. He held a low hanging branch away from the path and waited for Felicity to pass. Her cheeks were flush from exertion, but had no trouble keeping up with his rapid pace.

A few moments later, they reached a small campsite. Ancient pots covered in dirt hung from various branches. Rocks were arranged in strange patterns and various piles. Trash had been tied to the trees using different colored twine. A tent with a sagging middle was nestled against the shade of an oak tree. The firepit was nothing more than a hole in the ground crusted over with pine needles and leaves. It hadn’t been used in a while. The whisper of a breeze skittered through the space and leaves rustled overhead. Birds sang.

Felicity planted her hands on her hips and turned in a circle. “Doesn’t look like Jeremy is here.”

Noah tilted his head toward the tent opening. Inside was a bundled sleeping bag. No sign of Jeremy. He raised his head and listened for any sound of human life. Bushes moved in the shadows. “Jeremy? It’s Noah Hodge.” He removed a bottle of water and waved it for the other man to see. “I’ve got some things for you. It’s safe to come out.”

The bushes moved again, and then a man emerged into the small clearing. Jeremy’s hair flowed long over his shoulders. A beard covered the bottom half of his face. Deep lines marred the skin around his eyes and along his forehead, making him appear ancient. He was barefoot. Pants hung from his narrow hips and his shirt had long tears. Every inch of visible skin was dirty.

Noah kept his expression impassive as a wave of body odor mixed with sweat drifted on the breeze. He held out the bottle of water. “We brought food too.”

Jeremy came up close, baring rotten teeth. He snatched the water bottle before drifting toward his tent. “They’re coming. Danger. We must be ready.” He spun toward Noah. “I’m building a bomb to protect us.” He scurried over to a collection of metal objects. Spoons tangled together with broken wires and thread. “Soon it’ll be ready.”

Yep. Definitely in a paranoid state. Noah ignored Jeremy’s comments, instead focusing on the task at hand. “I need to ask you some questions about Brooke Patterson.”

Jeremy removed the cap from the water and drank deeply before adding some liquid to his “bomb” and muttering something under his breath. Then he flung the water bottle aside. He tugged on his long hair. “I need more time. A bit more time before we can be safe.”

Felicity stepped around Noah. “Safe from who? ”

Jeremy glanced up as if surprised by her voice. He blinked. Recognition sparked in the man’s eyes before he rushed toward her. Noah stepped between them, but faster than he would’ve thought possible, Jeremy moved around him. The homeless man grabbed Felicity’s arms. “You need to run! Go! Before the killer finds you.”

Her mouth dropped open. Felicity reared back as if Jeremy had hit her. Her feet slipped on the pine needles and she tumbled to the ground, taking Jeremy with her. Noah rushed to their aid. He attempted to pry Jeremy’s hands off Felicity, but the other man’s grip was strong. “Let go of her!”

Felicity gaped like a fish out of water. She was stiff as a board, her gaze some place far away. Noah feared she was having some kind of panic attack. He was desperate to separate them, but didn’t want to hurt either in the process.

Jeremy shook Felicity again. “Go! Run!”

As suddenly as Jeremy had grabbed Felicity, he released her. A second later, he was across the clearing and began rummaging through a duffel bag. The words he muttered were indecipherable.

Noah crouched next to Felicity and lightly touched her arm. “Breathe.”

She blinked and then sucked in a breath. Then another. Felicity slowly turned her gaze toward him and the confusion cleared from her expression. It was replaced by shock. “Noah, he was there.”

“What? Where? ”

She trembled. “At Brooke’s house. The night of the murder, Jeremy was there.”

Leaves rustled on the ground and Noah turned. Jeremy approached with a balled-up shirt in his hands. The fabric was falling apart and dirty, but there was no mistaking the dark brown stains streaking across the light-blue fabric.

Blood.