Tough Justice Box Set

by Carla Cassidy

  And Mei was gone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lara sat at the conference room table the following morning, trying not to look at Mei’s vacant seat. She’d spent the long night fighting off images of Mei’s lifeless body with that black tattoo on her cheek. And every time she’d managed to doze off, she’d awoken abruptly with the awful realization in the pit of her belly that something horrific had occurred. And judging by the tension in the room, everyone else felt just as bad.

  “I don’t understand this,” Ty said, his strident voice drawing her attention to him. “First Cass, now Mei. What the hell is Moretti trying to prove?”

  “He wants to punish Lara,” Nick answered. “You know that. He’s trying to destroy her life by hurting everyone around her. It’s his way of getting revenge.”

  “Bullshit. I’m her partner. If anyone feels her loss, it’s me. And what about Mei’s family? What does he have against them?”

  “This isn’t a contest,” Victoria cut in. “We all feel terrible about Mei’s death. And Nick is right. Moretti is targeting Lara because she’s the one who figured out who he was.”

  “Then why not kill her outright?” Ty demanded. “Why hurt everyone else?”

  “I think that’s his plan,” Lara admitted, hating to voice the thought. “The last time I talked to him, he mentioned a grand finale. I think that’s when he plans to kill me. He’s just drawing it out, trying to heighten my fear, so I’ll suffer before the end. Just killing me outright would be too easy. He wants me to feel afraid.”

  “That’s just great,” Xander said. “But the rest of us shouldn’t have to get sucked into his sick game and get killed in the meantime.” Leaning forward, he pinned her with his gaze. “Listen. Maybe no one else wants to say it, but I will. You need to go back into lockdown, like we talked about before. That’s the only way to make this stop.”

  “That’s not fair,” Nick argued.

  “The hell it isn’t.” Xander turned toward him, his eyes furious now. “Moretti’s stamp was on Mei’s cheek. So unless we’ve got some sort of copycat killer, which I don’t believe for a minute, we know he’s the one behind all this. And no matter what point he’s trying to make, we know Lara’s the one he wants. She’s smack-dab in the middle of this thing. It’s always been about her, from that ledge jumper on. And she’s the only one who can make it stop.”

  Lara’s face burned. Xander’s accusation stung, but she knew he wasn’t alone. She could see the condemnation mirrored in her teammates’ eyes. And even though she hated to admit it, she knew that they had a point.

  “You’re absolutely right,” she agreed. “Moretti is doing this because of me. He’s retaliating because I was the one who turned him in. This is personal for him, and he won’t stop until he has destroyed me, and everyone around me, too.”

  She turned to her boss, knowing what she had to do. “I never imagined he would go this far. And I never wanted anyone to get hurt. Not Cass, not Mei, not those innocent women who had my name. Believe me, if I’d known what he was going to do...” She inhaled sharply, feeling guilty at the thought.

  “I want to nail this guy. I want to hunt down this murderous bastard and crucify his sorry ass. I want it as much as you all do, maybe more. And it would kill me to quit this case. But if you think it’s for the best, I’ll go back into lockdown. The last thing I want is for anyone else to get hurt.”

  “This isn’t your fault,” Victoria said, her voice firm. “Let’s not lose sight of who the criminal is here. It’s Moretti, not you.” Her gaze went to everyone in the room. “I know how you all feel. Don’t forget that my daughter was kidnapped by this bastard to make a point. And Mei’s death is a tremendous loss.”

  Her voice cracked, revealing a rare moment of vulnerability at her agent’s death. “But sending Lara into lockdown isn’t the answer. For one thing, it won’t stop him. He’s going to keep coming after us until he finishes whatever twisted plan he’s concocted for revenge. And this is exactly what he wants us to do, to turn on each other and fight. Or worse, to run away and hide.

  “But we’re a team. A strong one. We’re all in this together until we bring Moretti down. If any of you want to be reassigned, you can let me know. But in the meantime, we’re all sticking together to stop him. Understood?”

  The team murmured their agreement. But Xander sat back and crossed his arms, his expression stony, and Lara knew that he wasn’t about to budge. He would continue to blame her, especially if anything else went wrong.

  “So what do we know about Mei’s murder?” Nick asked in an obvious attempt to pull them back to the job at hand and lessen the animosity in the room.

  “We don’t have anything conclusive yet,” Victoria said, shooting him a grateful look. “Of course, it’s early days. Until we get the autopsy and forensic results, we won’t really know anything else. The tech team was there all night. They taped her clothes and apartment for fibers, and lifted all the prints they could. But even without the autopsy results, the cause of death is pretty clear.”

  For a moment no one spoke. Strangulation was a ghastly way to die, as they all knew. Lara closed her eyes, struggling to dispel a barrage of images, not wanting to imagine those final, violent moments of her teammate’s life.

  “We’ve sent a liaison from our Evidence Response Team to work with the NYPD. We’re giving them all the support we can. They’re checking surveillance tapes and going door to door in Mei’s building this morning to see if anyone saw or heard anything.”

  “Fat chance of that, the way our luck’s running,” Xander said.

  No one could disagree with that. Except for capturing Anna’s kidnappers, they hadn’t had any real success in this case so far—only setbacks, and each one progressively worse.

  “Speaking of witnesses,” Lara said. “Do you think that might be what provoked the attack on Mei, that we were asking about that blond guy in the cowboy hat?”

  “It’s certainly possible.” Victoria looked at Ty. “I want you to go back over the evidence from the Central Park case and see if there is anything we’ve missed. It would be great to find a link.”

  “All right.”

  “How about the painting?” Nick asked.

  Victoria turned to him. “What about it?”

  “We were working on that before she died. Maybe she’d discovered something there.”

  “You might be right,” Lara said. “Last night, before she left, she told me she was going to check on something related to that. And then she asked me whether Moretti was dyslexic or not.”

  Nick frowned. “Why did she want to know that?”

  “I don’t know. She said it probably didn’t mean anything.” Lara paused, her belly dipping. It was the last thing Mei had said to her.

  “I’ll take a look at the painting again,” Nick said a moment later. “Maybe that’s what she was calling me about last night.”

  “She didn’t leave a message?” Cass asked.

  “Only for me to call her back. But I’ll look in her notes and see if I can find anything.”

  “Let us know what you find out,” Victoria said. “Check with the prison guards again, too. Find out if Moretti does any artwork. We need to find out who did that painting in case it holds a clue. Xander, I want you to get in touch with the NYPD and see if you can get into her apartment. She might have left some papers there.”

  “All right.”

  “How about putting someone undercover at the prison?” Ty asked. “Maybe we can keep an eye on Moretti and try to figure out what he’ll do next.”

  Victoria pursed her lips, as if giving his suggestion some thought, but then she shook her head. “It’s too risky. A new prisoner or guard is always suspect. Moretti would see right through that. We’ll have to stick with looking at the surveillance tapes and questioning the guards.”

  “Where do we stand on the hunt for The Ghost?” Lara asked.

  Victoria sighed. “No one matching his description has turned up in
his neighborhood so far, but we’ve still got surveillance in place. The moment he comes anywhere near that street we’re going to pick him up.”

  She straightened her papers and prepared to go. “All right, people. The first thing we need to do is find that murderer. We know he’s connected to Moretti somehow. So here’s our plan. I want everyone back here at noon. Bring everything you’ve got on Moretti, and be prepared for a long afternoon. We’re going to start from scratch and comb through everything we know about him—his childhood, his years building the syndicate, any old girlfriends or people he knew... I don’t care how long it takes, or how impossible it seems, but somewhere, somehow, we’re going to figure out who killed Mei.”

  * * *

  They reassembled in the conference room several hours later. “Okay, listen up,” Victoria said. “We’re going to do this in order. We’ll recap his childhood first, then work our way up to the present. If anyone thinks of anything pertinent to the case, just shout it out. Remember, the goal here is to trigger ideas, to see if there’s anything we’ve missed. Lara, would you like to do the honors?”

  “Sure.” She opened the top folder in the pile she’d brought along and took out the summary she’d compiled. Then she cleared her throat and began. “We know that his real name is Andrew Moretti. He was born in Brooklyn and grew up in Bushwick, which was a high crime area, even back then. There was a lot of white-flight going on, but their family stuck around. His father worked at the Port Authority. His mother was a housewife. Andrew and his twin brother, Mason, were the only kids.

  “His school records were exceptional. Both he and his brother were definitely gifted. They scored in the top percentile for everything on standardized tests and got good grades—when they applied themselves. There’s no sign that they were dyslexic or had any sort of learning disabilities, by the way.”

  “Any idea where Mei was going with that?” Victoria asked Nick.

  “Possibly. I compared the painting to Moretti’s mug shot and noticed that one of his tattoos was reversed. I called the cryptologist, and he said he’d look into it. It might not mean anything, though. It might just be a mistake.”

  “Still, that was pretty sharp of Mei to notice,” Ty said.

  Lara nodded. “I think I know what gave her the idea. There was a photo in Mrs. Ramirez’s apartment that her daughter took. It had to do with mirrors and reflections, making things reversed. It must have reminded Mei of that tattoo.”

  “Be sure to let us know what the cryptologist finds out,” Victoria told Nick, then signaled for her to go on.

  Lara cleared her throat. “I talked to an old cop from their neighborhood. He remembers them well. He told me the Moretti boys had behavior issues from early on—mostly fights and problems with authority. By the time they were teenagers, they’d begun missing a lot of school and racked up various status offenses like truancy and possession of alcohol. Later, that escalated to more violent behavior like robbery and assaults, but the cops could never get enough proof of their involvement. Mason was by far the worst. The cops picked him up several times. I put in a request for his juvenile file, but haven’t gotten it yet.”

  “Any sign of abuse at home?” Victoria asked.

  “Not that I know of, but I can check.” She made a note in the margin of the page. “When they were sixteen their parents died in a car wreck. The only family they had left was an aunt who moved in to take care of the boys.”

  “Make a note of any names you come across,” Victoria cut in. “Cops, caseworkers, probation officers, anyone who had contact with them then. We’ll try to track them down.”

  Nodding, Lara circled a name. “When they were seventeen their house burned down. Mason Moretti was trapped inside and died.”

  “What caused the fire?” Nick asked.

  Lara skimmed her notes. “The investigation was inconclusive. There wasn’t any sign of arson—no traces of accelerants, no multiple sites of origin like you’d expect. The official report says it was accidental, probably caused by an electrical fault in an old fuse switch. The house was pretty old, so the wiring wasn’t up to code.”

  “That doesn’t really rule out arson,” Nick said. “They could have made it look accidental if they were as bright as everyone said.”

  “If they set it, it backfired, because Mason died in the fire. They found his charred body in the ruins.”

  “Unless his brother killed him and then set the fire to cover it up,” Ty pointed out.

  “True, but there’s nothing to indicate they didn’t get along. And, according to the officer on the scene, Andrew was distraught over his brother’s death. But he could have faked that,” she admitted. “He’s good at faking emotions to manipulate people and get what he wants.” When it came to her, he’d put on an award-worthy act—an act so riveting she’d fallen in love with the man.

  Pushing away that thought, she went on. “Regardless, the aunt buried Mason in The Evergreens Cemetery with his parents. Andrew went from bad to worse after that. Not that he was ever good before, but he definitely went downhill. Then he was arrested on a weapons charge. He joined the army as part of a plea bargain to avoid serving time. He got injured in Afghanistan—nothing serious enough to get him discharged—then went AWOL halfway through his tour.”

  “How was his military record?” Nick asked.

  “I put in a request for that, too, but they haven’t sent it yet. But I talked to a guy from his unit and was able to get some details. He said Moretti had been written up for various infractions—insubordination, missing duty, a couple of alcohol incidents. He was facing a court martial when he disappeared.”

  “What for?”

  “Assaulting an officer.”

  “The army never found him?” Cass asked.

  “Apparently not, but things get murky from then on. He was staying off the grid so the army wouldn’t catch up with him. He probably started using the Andrew Moore alias then, too. He built his criminal empire under the Moretti name in Chicago. We’re not sure why he chose that locale. He gained power quickly by being a ruthless SOB, either by taking over neighboring gangs or getting rid of them. He used his other name, Andrew Moore, for his arms commander role.”

  “And no one ever suspected they were the same guy?” Ty asked, sounding skeptical.

  “No. He was very clever at keeping things separated.” Even she’d been fooled, and she’d gotten closer to him than anyone else. “We all know about the syndicate,” she continued, not wanting to dwell on her time with Andrew Moore. “There were three main branches—weapons, drugs and sex trafficking.” She stole a glance at Cass, sorry to have to bring up such a painful subject and remind her of her sister’s death.

  “And, of course, anyone in the syndicate had to get a tattoo, the small black M superimposed over an upside down one. We’re not exactly sure why he chose two Ms,” she added. “It could have been in memory of his brother, Mason Moretti. Or it could be a representation of the dual roles he played as Moretti and Andrew Moore. His commanders all had an additional tattoo on their necks, a crown indicating their rank in the hierarchy. We didn’t realize it at the time, but his was the most elaborate.”

  “Anything else?” Victoria asked.

  “No, that’s it. Just the information about the syndicate, which we all know.”

  Victoria gave her a nod. “All right. Let’s divide this up. Lara and Nick, you take his childhood. Xander and Ty, you can investigate his military years. Cass and I will focus on the syndicate to see if we missed anything there. Cass, I also want you on Mason’s juvenile files and Andrew’s army records.”

  She paused, her eyes traveling around the group. “Look. I know you’re tired. I know how frustrating this case has been and how desperately you want it done. And I know how upset you all are about Mei. Believe me, I feel the same. But we owe it to Mei to find her murderer. So even if we’re exhausted, we need to suck it up and carry on so we can nail whoever did this to her.”

  CHAPTER SIX


  There was nothing that Lara dreaded more than visiting Mei’s grandmother, but by late that afternoon, she knew she could no longer put it off. She made a quick stop at Victoria’s office, then headed with Nick into the heart of Manhattan’s Chinatown to pay her respects. The police had already notified Mei’s grandmother of her death, thank God. Lara never would have had the heart to break that wrenching news. But even so, her steps slowed, regrets and guilt piling inside her as she and Nick approached her street.

  “Do you think her grandmother will agree to see us?” Nick asked, voicing her doubts.

  “I don’t know.” That was what she feared the most, being turned away. But they didn’t really have a choice. They had to visit the family of their fallen comrade, no matter how difficult it turned out to be.

  She kept her eye on the house numbers as they made their way down Doyers Street, one of the most infamous places in Chinatown. Once crowded with opium dens and brothels, the street now looked like any prosperous section of New York. The tenement houses were long gone, the previously-secret tunnels modernized and turned into shopping malls. Still, a shiver ran through her as they walked through the curve known as the Bloody Angle, at one time deemed the most murderous spot in America.

  The grandmother’s apartment was at the top of a five-story building. Lara rang the doorbell, her doubts rising again about the reception they would receive. Would Mei’s grandmother be glad they came? Or would she blame her for her granddaughter’s death? Lara could hardly fault her if she did. Like Xander said, Moretti had targeted Mei because of her.

  A few seconds later, a young woman in her twenties opened the door. She’d obviously been crying, judging by her pink nose and puffy eyes. Her gaze went from Nick to her. “Yes?”

  “Good afternoon. I’m Lara Grant. This is Nick Delano. We’re with the FBI. We worked with Mei. If it’s all right, we wanted to see her grandmother and pay our respects.”

  “Of course.” The woman stepped aside. “Mei talked about you. I’m her second cousin, Sunny.”