Misguided Justice

By Shirley Marlow

Someone is killing Hispanic men in a small town in north central Alabama. Who is killing these men and why? With little or no evidence found at the scenes, progress is slow in solving the crimes. Could the deaths be gang or drug related or something more sinister - - like hate crimes. Local authorities havent a clue.
Special Agent Marco Moretti and Special Agent Dr. CC Cannon along with three other agents from the FBIs New Orleans elite task force have been called in on the case. The agents team up with local law enforcement to try and apprehend those who are responsible.
Morettis archenemy Ivan Milkovich sees him on an Alabama televised news briefing and contacts him. Will the two men finally come face to face and finish the long time feud between them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469110318

Shirley Marlow

Shirley Marlow is retired, living in Dothan, Alabama, and is the author of Maybe Next Time and Misguided Justice. Final Encounter is the last book of her trilogy.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The five-man team was in place—almost. The Elite Task Force that Special Agent Marco Moretti had agreed to assemble and lead for the Federal Bureau of Investigation was complete except for one position. He knew he should hire someone to fill that slot; after all, he had several good applicants that had applied. Certain people in the deputy director’s office in Washington, DC, kept pressuring him for a start date, but he held out, hoping that she would still get in touch. He kept telling himself he had a few days remaining before the office would be fully operational and that she would call.

There were times when he had wondered if picking New Orleans for the team’s home base was a mistake. He did not kid himself; he knew why he chose it. Bottom line, he wanted to be close to her.

Months had passed since he had agreed with Washington to form a task group. Their missions would be designed to help other law enforcement agencies with their more complicated and unsolved cases. His team would have the ability to provide advanced technical support, forensic support, and expertise in areas that were not available to state and local agencies.

Moretti had assembled a team he thought he could trust and depend on; those were crucial ingredients in their line of work. Each had a specialty necessary for any assignment, and that’s why they had been chosen. He knew each team member would risk their own life to protect one of their own. All for one, one for all—they would live by that slogan.

He was in his makeshift office alone this morning. Crews were frantically working on the new facility that would house his team and the local FBI employees. He was looking forward to seeing his old friend and colleague, New Orleans bureau chief Tom Pierce, and his team, not that he was expecting to see much of them. If things went right, he knew his team would be traveling most of the time.

He sat at his desk, staring at the files. The only spot left he needed was a doctor, a profiler. Someone who could possibly help the others understand what makes the criminals do what they do. He didn’t need just anyone; he needed CC Cannon. He had left word with her family and friends to call, but she hadn’t. He knew it was time to move on, time to select one of the three applicants he had weeded out from the surprisingly high number who had applied.

CC had not seen or even talked to him since her return from Europe. Special Agent Tom Pierce, their mutual friend and colleague, had told her he was back in New Orleans. The anticipation of seeing him again had made her feel edgy. Now standing in the doorway to his office, watching him, she felt uncomfortable as she tried to speak. I heard you were looking for me, she said barely above a whisper.

His back was to her, but it was her; he would recognize that voice anywhere. He slowly turned around and blinked. Moretti wanted to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. She was standing there in the flesh and blood. You could say that, he calmly said. He hoped his voice was calm because his heart was racing. He walked around the desk to meet her.

She met him halfway, and they embraced. CC dropped her arms while gently pushing him back, glancing around the room as she took a step backward; she needed a little distance between them. It’s good to see you, she said. How are you?

He smiled. Fine, it’s good to see you. You look great. Thoughts flooded through his head. Careful, Moretti. She looked like the old CC the way she did when they first met. Europe was good for her.

They stared at each other without speaking. Someone had entered the room, but they did not notice until they heard a voice.

Well, hello there, the voice said in a slow Southern drawl. The man who had joined them eyed CC up and down and smiled. Am I interrupting anything? he said. And who are you?

This is FBI special agent Dr. CC Cannon. This is Rob Grayson, one of the team members, said Moretti.

Smiling, he extended his hand, and she placed hers in his. She thought she was looking at a young Robert Redford. That accent, he was a Southerner, no doubt about it. I believe I detect a Southern accent, she added, smiling.

His wide grin returned. You detected right. I have my mama to thank for that, a good Southern woman herself. He was still staring at her. Georgia. Columbus, Georgia. Born and raised. Well, not really, my old man was in the military, and we did relocate from time to time.

She looked at this brassy young man, his eyes sparkling; he was enjoying this. Was he putting her on with his Southern-boy charm? She couldn’t be sure.

Moretti had heard enough. Grayson, could I see you outside for just a moment? He turned around to CC. Will you excuse me for a moment? He put his arm around the young man’s shoulder to hurry him out.

She nodded.

Sure thing, no problem, Grayson said in his syrupy voice, his eyes still on CC. Nice to meet you, ma’am, I look forward to seeing more of you.

It was nice meeting you. She couldn’t help but smile at the confident young agent as he and Moretti stepped outside into the hallway. His smooth Southern charm was intoxicating.

As soon as he thought he was out of CC’s hearing range, Moretti asked, What the hell was going on back there? His face was a little red from the anger he was feeling. Why were you talking like that?

Grayson laughed. Oh, that, that was my voice for the ladies. They eat it up, works every time.

Well, don’t try it again on Dr. Cannon. She is too smart to fall for bullshit like that.

OK OK. I understand, it won’t happen again, he said apologetically.

Good, now that that’s settled, did you need me for something? Moretti asked, his voice much calmer now.

I wanted to tell you I was out at the airport checking out the jet this morning, it’s ready to go.

Good, I appreciate that, just keep it that way. We may be using it any day now.

Grayson nodded.

I’ll see you later, Moretti said. He smiled to himself as Grayson hurried away.

I’m sorry about that, Moretti said to CC when he returned to the office where she was waiting. He’s young, just trying to impress you.

No need to apologize, she said. I thought he was nice. She looked at

Moretti. You may have your hands full with that one, she continued, smiling.

Not really, he was merely putting on a show for you. He’s an excellent and dedicated agent when he is working and a hell of a pilot. He watched her. He will be flying the jet.

Wow, you have access to a jet? I am impressed.

Don’t be. It’s probably temporary. He stared. It was confiscated in a drug case. He didn’t give her a chance to respond before he asked, Have you seen Pierce? He offered her a chair, and they sat down.

I’ve talked with him.

Did he say anything about the team?

He mentioned it.

Did he tell you I wanted to offer you a job?

He did.

Moretti observed her. What did he tell you?

He told me I should do it.

And?

I told him I would think about it.

Have you? His eyes were fixed on her.

She lost her train of thought. Those damn blue eyes were making her nervous.

Have I what?

Thought about it?

I have.

And?

I have decided it might be something I could do. He was still staring. It was as if he was holding his breath. I decided if you still wanted me, I would give it a try. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard a sigh of relief come from his mouth.

Very well then, it’s settled, welcome back. You can start tomorrow if that is convenient for you.

She nodded.

I have a few things I need to finish up today.

OK.

He continued, I will fill you in then, and you can meet the other members of the team.

That’s fine, she said.

Do you have any questions?

She shook her head. No, I can’t think of anything, but I’m sure I will later.

They both stood up, and she walked toward the door. He called out to her, CC, I’m glad you decided to join us.

She looked over her shoulder. Thanks.

Be here at eight, and by the way, keep a packed bag with you at all times, you’ll never know when you will need it.

She nodded. OK, I will. Before she got to the door, she turned around, Any news on Ivan Milkovich? She saw the instant anger in his eyes. I shouldn’t have asked him that, she thought.

Not a word.

Don’t give up. You will catch him one of these days, Moretti.

Yeah, I keep telling myself that.

*     *     *

Last year, after the case of her parents’ death was finalized and the kidnapping case she was working on regarding the Russians was over, CC had taken an extended leave of absence from the bureau. She met her grandmother, who was traveling with friends in Europe. She had spent several months there. But now CC was glad to be back in New Orleans with her family and friends; she had missed them. She had enjoyed her travels, but now she was just excited to be home.

CC was looking forward to returning to work. She was ready for a new chapter in her life to begin.

She had to admit it was difficult when she had her initial contact with Marc. She had some anxieties at first, but now she was feeling better about it. She saw no reason why the two of them couldn’t have a positive working relationship; she kept telling herself that. She was determined to make it work; she had to believe she could do it.

After leaving Moretti’s office, she drove back to her apartment. She had some telephone calls to make. The first one on her list was to her friend Tom Pierce. Hi, Tom, it’s me, she said when he answered his phone. Are you busy?

I’m never too busy for you, what’s going on?

She kicked off her shoes and sat down on the sofa, holding a bottle of water in her other hand.

I called to tell you I met with Moretti this morning. I told him I would accept the position.

I know, he answered.

You know, how? She took a sip of water.

He called me as soon as you left his office and told me the good news.

Oh, I see.

CC, I hope it was OK. You didn’t mind, did you?

No, no, of course not, she replied. There was a moment of silence. She took another sip of water.

OK then, I think I hear a ‘but’ coming, don’t I?

Not really, it’s just that I wanted to be the one to tell you. I owe you that.

Listen, you don’t owe me anything, and I don’t want you thinking you do, is that clear? he asked.

Oh all right, I won’t. Thanks, Tom. I appreciate you saying that.

I’m happy for you. You need to get back to work, and if it’s working with Moretti and his group, so be it. He cleared his throat. We will miss you around here, no doubt about that. You’re a good agent, CC, and will be an asset to that group.

Thanks again. Good ole Tom, she thought, always wanting the best for everyone.

He changed the subject. How’s Devereux’s campaign coming along? Is he going to be Louisiana’s next attorney general?

We sure hope so. Things look good. CC had an instant flashback to the time she found out she had a half brother. The affair her dad and his mom had. How difficult it was for Jonathan to grow up without a dad, but how much he had appreciated the stability he and his mom had with the financial support. Memories of how they had found each other about a year ago when her parents were killed in an automobile accident. They had actually been murdered. Jonathan was the assistant district attorney in New Orleans and was instrumental in solving the crime and prosecuting the people involved. He had become an overnight hero. Now he was running for the highest legal office in the state. Rumors had it that he was a shoo-in to win.

CC, Tom said.

She didn’t hear him.

He tried again. CC, are you OK?

I’m sorry, Tom, I was just reminiscing for a second.

Oh, OK, he replied. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help Jonathan.

Thanks, I’ll pass that along to him.

Great.

Tom, he will appreciate your offer, he admires you very much.

It goes without saying, the feeling is mutual.

I know.

CC, are you getting enough sleep?

She wasn’t expecting that. Yeah, sure, why do you ask? she lied.

No reason, just asking, he told her. Listen, someone is holding for me on another line, I’d better get it.

OK.

Good to talk to you, CC. I’ll be seeing you around. After all, we’ll be working in the same building.

Yeah, I know, I’ll talk to you later. Maybe I could mention my recurring dream to him. Maybe it would help to talk to someone, "And who better than Tom? It wouldn’t be the first time he had listened to her. She trusted him to keep her secrets.

She wanted to tell her grandmother Ressa about her decision to go back to work, but not over the telephone. She took a quick shower, changed into something more comfortable, then drove out to her house. She would be glad to see her. CC hoped she would take the news well. Ressa did not want her working and often reminded her of the fact. To CC’s great surprise, her grandmother seemed excited when she told her she would be working with Moretti’s team.

That’s good, chéri. I really like that young man.

I’m glad you do.

By the way, how is he doing?

He’s fine.

I thought he had left this area, she said.

He did, but he’s back. CC wanted to talk about the job, not Moretti. She tried to explain what the team’s objectives would be and about the traveling that was going to be involved, but she wasn’t sure Ressa was listening.

Why don’t you bring him out for dinner one night? she asked with a twinkle in her shining brown eyes. Speaking of dinner, have you had yours yet?

No.

Well, you should eat, child. Let me ask Annie to set you a place. She started to walk toward the kitchen.

CC called after her, Not tonight, I’m not really hungry, Nana, but thank you.

She stopped.

About Agent Moretti, he is my boss, Nana, not my boyfriend, she replied.

Well, bosses have to eat, don’t they? she said, smiling.

She is incorrigible, CC thought. We’ll see, she said.

When do you start? she asked.

I already have. I met with Moretti today. Tomorrow will be my first full day. I’m looking forward to it, Nana. I’ve been idle long enough, I need to get back to work, she told her.

I know, dear, but just be careful, she said, placing a small hand on CC’s cheek.

I will.

You work too hard, you know.

CC smiled and hugged her. She knew her grandmother always worried about her. Thank you, Nana, your approval means a lot to me.

They walked arm in arm to the door. Good night, Nana, I love you, CC said as she kissed her grandmother softly on her cheek.

Good night, chéri, I love you too. Drive careful going home."

The apartment was dark. She reached for the light switch just inside the doorway and flipped it up. Her eyes rested on her mother’s piano as she entered the room. She walked over, sat down, and started to play. She had not done that in months. It felt good, but minutes later, she stopped, walked over to the DVD player, and put in a disc of one of her favorite blues singers. She went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of white wine, humming as she went. CC suddenly realized she was hungry; she actually thought she heard her stomach growl. She smiled as she peered into the refrigerator for something to eat. Settling on some white grapes, Colby cheese, and crackers, she took them with her along with her wine to the sofa and sat down. Eating and enjoying the music, she looked around the room. She wondered what her parents would be doing if they were sitting here now. After all, this had been their apartment; she had moved here after their deaths. A thought suddenly crossed her mind; maybe she should move, get another place. This apartment held a lot of memories, and maybe a fresh start would be good. She decided she would give it some serious thought, but not tonight.

CHAPTER 2

This hazy, hot Tuesday morning was like most mornings in CC’s life except on this particular morning, she was going back to work after having taken an extensive leave of absence from the bureau. On one hand, she wanted to go back, but on the other, she kept asking herself, Am I ready? Is it too soon? Can I do this? Her mind raced back and forth, searching for answers. She still doubted herself as she drove her SUV into the bureau’s parking lot.

Good morning, Moretti said when she arrived and got out of her vehicle. He was waiting for her.

Good morning to you. What are you doing out here? she asked. Were you waiting for me? She quickly glanced down at her watch. Please tell me I’m not late for my first day on the job, she said, smiling nervously.

He had a grin on his face. She hasn’t changed in one respect, he thought. She still asks multiple questions in one sentence. He loved that about her and often teased her, but not this morning; he knew she was nervous. No, you’re fine. I was watching for you, however. I thought I would take you by the new facility this morning and introduce you around. Everyone is there pitching in.

Fine with me, she said as she turned to open her car door.

You can ride with me. Your vehicle will be OK parked here, we won’t be long. He was already walking in the direction of his parked SUV, which was sitting close by. She followed. He opened the door on the passenger side, stepped back for her to enter, and then walked around to the other side.

Cannon, this morning when we return, I want you to go over the members’ personal files, he said while driving. Let me know what you think.

OK, am I looking for anything in particular?

No not really. I want you to get to know them, understand them, and as time goes by, if you see anything different in their character that I should know, tell me about it.

OK.

This is all new, I really don’t know what to expect to begin with, but then, none of us do. We’re on a trial basis, we can’t afford any screwups. He looked over at her. I just need to know we’re all on the same page in any given situation.

I agree.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, I need you to help be my eyes and ears for a while.

OK, I’ll do what I can and keep you posted.

We’re here, he said minutes later as the SUV came to a stop and he turned off the engine. She followed him inside. She quickly looked around. To her, it appeared the workers were finished; however, she did see a few of them milling around, probably taking care of last-minute details. The facility was really nice. She couldn’t believe the government would spend so much money building such an elaborate building.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two men walking in their direction. She turned to get a better look. It was Rob Grayson and Jake Johnson. Johnson had a big smile on his face as he approached her and wrapped his big arms around her. Hello, Cannon, it’s good to see you. He let his arms drop, stepped back, and whistled. Woman, you look good.

Thanks, Johnson, she said, smiling. It’s good to see you. How are things with you?

"Good, you?’

Good.

I heard you would be joining the team, he said.

Yeah, I let Moretti here talk me into it, she said, glancing in his direction. His face was stern, and he gave no indication he had heard them talking about him; he was busy looking at someone and waving.

She heard Grayson’s voice. Good morning, Dr. Cannon, or should I call you Agent Cannon? he asked politely. The Southern drawl was gone.

Good morning, you can just call me Cannon, everyone else does.

Very well, Cannon it is. What do you think about our new building? he asked.

Well, I haven’t seen much of it so far, but what I have seen, I like, she responded.

The person Moretti had been waving to walked over to join them. Cannon, this is Martin Waldman, the other member you haven’t met. This is Dr. CC Cannon.

They shook hands. Welcome aboard, he said.

Thanks, glad to be a part of the team.

Where’s our computer genius, is he back there? Moretti pointed in the direction of an office with glass walls.

Where else; he shrugged. Yes he’s back there, Johnson said. A few minutes ago, I heard him yelling at the people who are installing his computers. If you ask me, he’s a sensitive dude. They all smiled; they were in complete agreement with his assessment of the young man.

Moretti motioned to CC. Come on, let me introduce you to our boy wonder. I’m told there is nothing he can’t do with a computer.

He was bent over a machine doing something when they walked in. Hey, Michael, got a minute? I’ve got someone I want you to meet. He stood erect the moment he heard Moretti’s voice. He didn’t look like a computer nerd to her; he looked like any other young man his age. That was about to change. Michael, this is Dr. CC Cannon, and she is going to be working with us. Cannon, this is Michael McPhee.

Hello, Michael, glad to meet you, she said, extending her hand toward him.

He stepped back, not wanting to touch her. Hello, he said timidly. They stared at each other.

Moretti broke the eerie silence. Any word on when all of this will be operational? he asked.

He looked at the two men who were working on the equipment, and he shook his head. They are idiots.

CC and Moretti tried not to smile.

OK, then, we’ll go and let you get back to whatever it was you were doing, catch you later, he added.

That went well, don’t you think? she said, smiling as soon as they were out of hearing range. That young man has some women issues.

He shook his head. He’s going to take some getting used to is all I have to say, he replied. Are you ready to head back?

Sure, any time you are, I’m with you.

They waved to the others as they walked out. See you guys later, Moretti yelled.

He showed her around the office, handed her the personal files, and left. She did a quick inventory of the files; Moretti’s was not among them. She was disappointed. She really hoped it would be. She wanted to read it.

She picked up the first one; it belonged to Waldman.

His file contained a massive amount of information. She was impressed