Fractured Memories
EXCERPT:
Chapter One
A twig snapped.
Texas Ranger Felicity Capshaw paused midstep. Humid air wrapped around her like a damp blanket. Despite the warm temperatures, goose bumps broke out across her skin. She had the faintest impression someone was lurking in the woods.
Watching.
Her fingers brushed against the weapon secured at her hip. Held her breath. Dusk painted the sky with deep blues and purples as the afternoon gave way to evening.
An animal darted out from the brush and skirted across the path. A raccoon. Or a rabbit. It was too dark to tell in the waning sunlight.
Felicity let out the breath she was holding. Normally, she would’ve laughed at her overreaction, but not today. Her emotions were too raw. Every nerve was strung tight and had been since she’d arrived in Knoxville this afternoon. The quiet Texas town was quaint, with red-brick buildings and country living appeal. But she knew that evil lurked under the gentile veneer. She’d seen it. Been within a breath of it.
The lights from her rented lake house beckoned like a beacon of safety. She should go inside and stop with this foolish errand. Memories weren’t like lightning strikes. She couldn’t hope to hold up a metal rod and have one snap into her mind. Especially since this wasn’t her first trip to Knoxville. She’d visited her hometown several times since becoming a ranger to work cases alongside the dedicated police officers sworn to protect the residents. But this time, things were different.
This case was personal.
Fifteen years ago, on a hot summer night much like this one, Felicity’s babysitter was murdered. Brooke Peterson was shot by an unknown assailant late in the evening. It was a crime Felicity witnessed, at least in part, but had no memory of. She’d been found by the police hiding in the guest bedroom closet. The killer never caught.
Nightmares stalked Felicity afterward. Shadowy and terrifying, she’d wake up screaming in a pool of sweat. In a desperate attempt to provide relief, her father packed them up six months after the crime and moved them across the state for a fresh start. It’d helped. For a while. But safety was an illusion, and the nightmares continued to haunt her. Nothing could fully erase the sense of guilt and responsibility hanging around her neck like an anvil. A weight that grew heavier with every passing year as Felicity’s career with the state police department grew.
Now, as a Texas Ranger, she had the training and skill to solve Brooke's murder. The anniversary of her death was next week. It was time for answers.
Felicity pulled in a deep breath to settle her rattled nerves. The air was scented with pine and moist earth. Light reflected off the lake’s smooth surface, and in the distance, children screamed with delight as they enjoyed the last few moments of swimming before being called in for dinner. A boat motor revved. Felicity watched the amateur fisherman maneuver his dingy across the water. Mosquitos nipped at the bare skin along her arms.
Again, the sense of being spied on washed over her. Felicity peered into the trees and brush, but spotted nothing out of the ordinary. She kept her hand on her holster as Brooke’s old house came into view. The porch light glowed, illuminating the yard that swept down to a short dock. Like Felicity’s house, the small two-bedroom cabin was a rental. It was empty tonight, and the owner had given permission for Felicity to enter.
Her phone vibrated with an incoming call. Felicity pulled the device from her pocket and glanced at the screen. Detective Noah Hodge. Her former classmate was now a detective with the Knoxville Police Department. He’d supported her request to reopen Brooke’s case and had been officially assigned to lead the investigation. Something Felicity was grateful for. Noah was hardworking and dedicated, traits necessary to solve a fifteen-year-old cold case.
She answered the call. “Hey, Noah. What’s up?”
“I’m running late.” He sounded frustrated. In the background, a child hollered, followed by the sound of a giant splash. Noah addressed his toddler with a firm but gentle voice. “Harper Marie, this is not a pool. Keep the water inside the bathtub, please.”
Felicity smothered a chuckle. She could easily picture Noah’s daughter, curls wet, dimples on display, as she rammed her tiny hands into the water to create a huge wave. “Sounds like you have your hands full.”
“Bath time has turned into splash time. To keep dry, I’d need a wetsuit and goggles.”
“Perfect. I know what to get you for Christmas.”
He chuckled, a deep baritone that twisted Felicity’s insides in unpleasant ways. She’d always had a soft spot for her childhood friend, but something had shifted in recent months. An unwelcome one-sided attraction that simmered underneath the surface of their relationship. Felicity did her best to shake it off. Noah was a widower who’d made it very clear he wasn’t interested in dating or getting married again.
Unavailable men. That was her specialty. Over the years, she’d dated a string of guys, none of whom were interested in commitment or a white picket fence. Felicity hadn’t been either. Since joining the state police department, she’d worked hard to prove herself and climb the ranks. And had. She was one of the youngest Texas Rangers in the state, but career achievement had come at a cost. Coming home alone to an empty apartment on her thirtieth birthday left her wondering if it’d been worth it.
She loved her job—Felicity had no intention of giving it up—but she couldn’t escape the truth any longer. Life was passing her by. She’d done a terrible job at making room for romance. That had to change. As soon as this case was over, she was taking a long vacation and figuring out what adjustments needed to be made in her personal life.
Leaves rustled behind her. Felicity glanced over her shoulder. The shadows in the woods had deepened, making it more difficult to distinguish clear shapes.
Silence followed.
Felicity shook her head. Nothing threatening was out here. She was just on edge. “Don’t worry, Noah. Take your time. I’m at Brooke’s old house now, so I’ll head inside and look around.”
“I’m ten minutes behind you. Just gotta get this munchkin into bed.”
They said goodbye, and Felicity hung up. The lapping of the lake against the shore and the cloying scent of damp brush enveloped her. Her boots crunched leaves. The grass was trimmed and perennials wilted by the summer heat were tucked into carefully weeded flower beds. Lights inside the house flicked on, automatically timed to ward off intruders. The back porch was wide with Adirondack chairs perfectly positioned to enjoy the view.
A memory burst in Felicity’s mind. Brooke, blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, laughter on her face as she handed over a marshmallow for roasting. The firepit had been portable. S’mores had been one of Felicity’s favorite desserts. She hadn’t had one in years.
Had they made them on the night Brooke was murdered? Or was the recollection from another day? She tried to dredge up more from the recesses of her mind, but couldn’t. The sick feeling buried in her gut returned. That whole evening was a giant blank.
The screen door creaked open like something out of a horror movie. Felicity punched the correct code into the security panel on the door and the locks snicked open. She braced herself with a deep breath. Then entered the house. Air-conditioning blasted over her skin, cooling the sweat beading along her brow. She shivered.
Her gaze scanned the yard and the woods beyond. No sign of anyone. Her imagination was running away with itself. Maybe it was better that Noah was running late. Felicity would have time to view the house on her own for a few minutes. Hopefully, more memories would surface.The kitchen had been completely renovated with brand-new cabinets and a granite countertop. Felicity drifted into the living room. The oversized couch and wide-screen television were modern. Large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the lake. Tile had replaced the carpet. Felicity stood in the center of the room and tried to remember the events of that horrible night, but couldn’t. The last thing she recalled was doing her homework with Brooke in the guest bedroom. After that… it was all a blank.
Frustration nipped at her. Locked inside her mind could be a crucial clue that would throw this case wide open. Felicity had little hope visiting the upstairs guest bedroom would jog her recollections loose, but she would try anything.
She climbed the narrow staircase to the landing. Like the downstairs, the upper floor had been renovated with plush carpeting and beige paint. A hallway stretched to a bonus room, often used by families as a playroom. Brooke had used it as an office.
Felicity headed for the third door on the right. The guest bedroom. She ignored the four-poster bed covered in a white duvet. Instead, she focused on the closet.
The door hung open, the inside dark and gaping.
Felicity’s heart suddenly pounded against her rib cage. She willed her feet to move forward, but they were frozen in place. Fear gripped her chest, making it hard to draw in a breath, and sweat beaded along her hairline. She had never experienced a panic attack, but from what others had described, this sounded close. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t force herself to take one step forward to look inside the closet.
A bang came from downstairs. Felicity swallowed a scream as her hand tightened around her weapon. It took two breaths to realize that it was probably Noah coming into the house. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, forcing her muscles to relax. “Noah, I’m up here.”
Her voice came out strong despite the rapid beat of her pulse. Felicity exited the guest room as though the devil himself were on her heels. She hurried down the hall.
Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention one second too late.
A set of hands landed on her back and shoved. Pain exploded along Felicity’s body as she collided with the staircase. The world spun. Instinctually, she tried to curl into a ball, but was moving too fast, tumbling down the worn steps with increasingly agonizing jolts.
With a final shudder, Felicity landed on the first floor. Every part of her body hurt. Blood seeped into her eyes. She wanted to move, but couldn’t coordinate her muscles to work. Stars danced across her vision. Through the haze of her injuries, she felt someone unholster the service weapon from her hip. Then the barrel of a gun pressed against the underside of her chin. A hand twisted in her hair and more pain erupted as the attacker drew her head into an unnatural position and a hot breath whispered over her cheek.
“It was a mistake to start this all up again. You should’ve left things alone.”
