Fractured Memories (Badge of Honor #1)

Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Noah took a seat at the dining room table next to Felicity. The hearty dinner sat like a lump in the pit of his stomach as stress and worry tangled his insides. Across from him, Tucker’s expression was grim. He wore his uniform, although it was wrinkled along the chest from a long shift and his jaw was shadowed with beard growth. Grady looked equally worn out. The Texas Ranger was still wearing the same clothing as earlier and the circles under his eyes were darker than before.

The scent of fresh coffee filled the tiny space. Everyone had a mug of the dark brew, along with one of Imogene’s homemade brownies, which she’d packaged up for their meeting. Noah took a swig of his drink and instantly regretted it. The flavor was perfect, but his stomach couldn’t handle the acidity. Beside him, Felicity twisted her mug but didn’t drink from it. Worry lines bracketed her mouth. He wanted to reach across the distance between them and gather her into his arms. To hold her until the tension riding her shoulders disappeared.

In the last twenty-four hours, she’d been pushed down the stairs, nearly burned alive, and shot at. Felicity didn’t deserve this. No one did. But the fact that it was her life in danger… it sparked a protective streak inside Noah that was fierce and undeniable.

He would do anything to protect her. Anything .

Noah was used to putting his life on the line for strangers. He was a cop, after all. But this was different. The risk was greater and becoming more so with every passing minute. The wisest thing would be to pass this case over to the Rangers. They would protect Felicity and make sure justice was done. Noah had a daughter to think about. A little girl who’d already lost her mother and needed her dad. Mentally, he knew what the logical answer was. But he couldn’t do it. His heart wouldn’t allow him to walk away from Felicity.

What did that mean? Noah wasn’t sure. He cared for her, that much was certain, but these feelings were far more than mere friendship. He couldn’t pinpoint when things had shifted between them. It was long after Sally’s death, but before yesterday. It added another layer to an already confusing and tangled mess.

Noah pushed aside his coffee and focused on Grady and Tucker. “Okay, bring us up to speed.”

Grady set a photograph on the dining room table. “The shooter is Gene Webb. Thirty-one. He has a rap sheet longer than my arm, going as far back as his teens. Possession, theft, armed robbery, bombing, attempted murder. You name it, he’s been involved in it.”

Noah studied the mug shot. Gene’s head was shaved. Tattoos crisscrossed the visible skin above the collar of his shirt and crept up his chin. His eyes were small and hard. Anger and hatred seemed to pour off him, vibrant enough to be captured in the photograph. The information listed under the mug shot described him as six feet and a bulky 230. From the curve of his shoulders, it appeared to be more muscle than fat.

He pushed the picture toward Felicity. “Does he look familiar?”

“No.” She frowned. “I don’t understand. What is Gene’s connection to Brooke?”

“That’s a good question, and it’s not one we can answer yet. Gene is originally from this area, but as his arrest record reflects, has spent most of his time in Houston. Gene is linked to Triple 6.”

Felicity reared back. “The organized crime ring?”

“Yep. Triple 6 traffics in drugs, guns, and people. Several departments—including the FBI and ATF—have tried to infiltrate the organization to shut them down but without success. No one knows who the leader of Triple 6 is. We’ve captured and convicted a few of the lower-level drug dealers, but they’ve refused to cooperate, even if it means a lighter prison sentence.”

Noah’s mind whirled with the information. “What connection does Gene have with Triple 6?”

“Informants have identified him as an enforcer. We’ve been unable to confirm that information though.” Grady turned to Felicity. “Is it possible Brooke was working for Triple 6?”

Felicity stiffened. “No way. Brooke wasn’t a criminal, nor did she hang out with them. Nothing uncovered during the initial murder investigation shows she was into anything illegal.”

Grady shrugged. “With all due respect, we can’t rely on the initial investigation. I don’t want to take the possibility off the table.” He held up a finger. “However, there is another potential explanation. Brooke’s killer could’ve hired Gene to silence you.”

“Is there anything in Gene’s history that indicates he’d been contracted to murder someone before?”

“An accusation from three years ago.” Tucker flipped to a page in a copied report. “Houston Police Department couldn’t verify the information, so Gene was never charged, but he allegedly murdered a plastic surgeon. Gunned him down in the parking lot of his office.” His mouth hardened. “Happened in broad daylight. The killer used a stolen vehicle, which was recovered a few miles away in a store parking lot. He was never caught. The doctor’s wife inherited millions and had a tenuous connection to Triple 6. It’s suspected her dry-cleaning business is used as a front to launder money.”

Noah’s spine stiffened. “And HPD couldn’t prove the wife had hired Gene?”

“There was no exchange of money or strange withdrawals from her bank accounts.”

“Doesn’t mean much. If she planned the murder, the wife could’ve easily pulled money out of the account over time and paid the killer in cash.” Noah didn’t like the similarities between the doctor’s murder and the shooting at the gas station. “Killers are creatures of habit, just like the rest of us. If Gene murdered the doctor, then he’s used a drive-by shooting style before.”

Grady nodded. “It’s something to consider. But why didn’t Gene use an automatic weapon this afternoon? Surely he has access to them as a gang member. An AR-15 would’ve been a much better choice for a drive-by shooting.”

“He didn’t use one to kill the doctor.” Tucker broke off a piece of brownie and popped it in his mouth. “A 9mm was used in the commission of that crime. If you look at his rap sheet, most of the violent crimes he’s been arrested for involve a handgun. My guess: after his first attempt to kill Felicity failed, he used an older method that had worked for him in the past.” His gaze met Noah’s and his brows arched. “Like you said, a creature of habit.”

“I assume you’ve put a BOLO out on Gene.”

A BOLO was short for be-on-the-lookout. It meant every law enforcement officer in the state would be searching for the criminal.

Grady nodded. “We’ve also got officers knocking on the doors of his family members and known comrades.” He drained the last of his coffee. “In the meantime, a trooper is stationed outside to keep watch over Felicity tonight. Hopefully, we’ll have a solid lead on Gene’s whereabouts in the morning.”

Felicity rested her hands on the back of the chair. “ We have an appointment tomorrow morning with Melanie Ferguson. As Brooke’s best friend, she’ll have a deeper insight into what was going on in Brooke’s life before the murder.” She provided Grady and Tucker with a rundown of everything they knew so far. “If my flashback is right—and I believe it is—then Jeremy was in the house on the night of the murder. He likely witnessed it, but questioning him won’t be effective while he’s in a paranoid state. We’ll know more once the shirt is analyzed by the lab.”

Grady tilted his head. “Is it possible Jeremy murdered Brooke?”

“Initially I thought so, but I can’t see Jeremy hiring Gene to kill me. He doesn’t have the funds, for starters.” Her forehead creased. “Jeremy told me to run on the night of Brooke’s murder. I think he was trying to protect me.” She hugged herself tighter. “Brooke told her brother she was dating someone new, but Daniel didn’t know who. Neither did Kurtis. It’s possible this mystery boyfriend is connected to Triple 6. Hopefully, talking to Melanie tomorrow morning will help fill in the gaps.”

The men rose from the table, and after a few last words, Grady and Tucker left.

Felicity picked up their empty mugs and carried them to the sink. Her shoulders were tense and worry hung like a cloud in the small home decorated in soothing grays and browns.

Noah piled the rest of the plates together and took them into the kitchen. “You wash, I’ll dry.”

She tossed him a weak smile and filled the sink with soapy water. Noah could practically hear the wheels in her head spinning. He picked up a dishtowel. “It might help if you share those thoughts running around inside your head. If you don’t, I’m afraid your brain might overheat.”

The comment earned him a laugh, as he hoped. Some of the tension eased from her shoulders. Noah took a dripping plate from her, waiting patiently. He’d learned a long time ago that sometimes she just needed a few minutes to gather her thoughts. He’d expressed support. Now it was up to her to accept the offer or not.

Felicity handed him another dish and used the back of her hand to swipe at a loose curl. “I’m mulling over the possibilities. Gene could’ve been hired by someone to kill me. Kurtis is a criminal court judge. Is it possible they crossed paths that way? Or am I reaching for an explanation because I dislike Kurtis?” She swiped aggressively at a coffee mug. “I can’t stop thinking that he manipulated us today. Sent us searching for Jeremy, who had a blood-stained item that is probably going to come back linked to Brooke.”

“How would Kurtis know that you’d remember Jeremy? Or that Jeremy still had that shirt?”

“He wouldn’t.” She blew out a breath and shook her head. “That’s what I mean. My visceral dislike for Kurtis is clouding my logic. That argument he had with Brooke… I can’t stop thinking about it. He was angry and verbally vicious, but people get mad. Couples argue. It doesn’t make him a killer.”

Noah prided himself on following the evidence, but there was a place for gut instinct too. Felicity had witnessed Brooke’s murder. Maybe her emotions were trying to communicate something her brain already knew. “Right now, Kurtis isn’t at the top of our suspect list, but I didn’t like the way he handled our interview today either. There’s a guy at the police department who’s fantastic at digging into people’s backgrounds.”

Detective Jax Taylor had been a top-notch research analyst for the FBI before coming home to take care of his aging parents. His skill set with the computer and financial data couldn’t be matched. “I’ll ask Jax to check for a connection between Kurtis and Gene.” Noah reconsidered. “Actually, it might be a good idea to see if Brooke’s brother and Gene know each other. Daniel was forthcoming during our interview, but he owns a handgun similar to the one used to murder Brooke. It’s worth digging into a bit more.”

Felicity handed him the last plate and then popped the drain so the water could run out. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He folded the dish towel and set it on the counter.

“For… everything. This would be much harder to handle if you weren’t with me.”

The woman had a way of making him feel like a superhero. “Aww, Fee. Come here.” Noah pulled her into his arms, her strawberry-scented shampoo teasing his senses as he kissed the top of her head. Felicity sighed, nestling her face in the crook where his neck met his shoulder. Her breath was warm against the exposed skin along his collar .

The embrace was supposed to be friendly, a way to comfort her, but Noah couldn’t ignore the way she felt in his arms. It was… right. He absently rubbed the knots in the muscles along her neck. Her skin was silky smooth. Noah could’ve stood there all night holding her, but it was getting late and they both needed rest.

With regret, he released her. “I should go.”

She walked him to the front door. Noah lingered in the entryway. He didn’t like leaving her alone in the house all night, even with a trooper stationed at the end of the driveway. “Would you like me to sleep on the couch tonight? Or I could call Cassie? She and Nathan would come in a heartbeat.”

Felicity’s mouth turned up at the corners. “That’s a kind offer, but no thank you. I can protect myself.” She gestured toward the window. The outline of a trooper’s vehicle parked on the street was visible through the gauze fabric. “And I’ve got backup. I’ll be okay.” Her hand landed on his chest. “Go home to your daughter, Noah.”

He cupped her fingers with his own, stepping closer until they were mere inches apart. Giving in to his desire, Noah brushed a curl away from her forehead. Felicity inhaled sharply. Her gaze lifted to meet his. He trailed a finger across her cheek and down to her chin. “I’m a phone call away if you need me.”

“I know.”

She rose on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek. It was quick and spontaneous, but his heart rate spiked. He was tempted to capture her lips with his own, but that one move could put their entire friendship at risk. Noah hesitated. Felicity froze. Their gazes met. A mixture of emotions was buried in the depths of her beautiful brown eyes. Desire tangled with fear. In that instant, Noah realized that whatever attraction he was feeling, she shared it. These worries about screwing everything up were ones she had as well.

It’d been a long day. They’d nearly died twice. Once in the fire yesterday and then today at the gas station. It wasn’t smart to kiss Felicity. There were a dozen reasons this would be a colossal disaster—starting with the fact that they were working a case together—but Noah didn’t have the strength to resist any longer. To fight these feelings for her that’d formed over the last year and were growing with every breath. Especially not when Felicity was looking at him with so much yearning.

He leaned forward, brushing her lips with his. Testing. Hesitant. Giving her time to back away if she thought better of it. She didn’t. He persisted with a series of featherlight kisses that sent his pulse racing and swallowed his senses so that all he knew was her.

Felicity’s arms wound around his neck and he pulled her closer, finally deepening the kiss.

And just like that, he was lost.