Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Chapter 9

The coffee strong and fragrant, washes away my doubts and clears my thinking, although granted, it leaves me with my problem.

How to find Juliana?

And what is the significance of the invoice addresses?

I let my mind freewheel, caffeine lubricating the gears.

What's the connection?

?

?

Back to basics...

Finchby’s invoices...

Taken from his own files…

Supply addresses from legitimate businesses…

… Listing women, children… Human cargo.

???

That can't possibly be what went through the customs checks...

Duplicate documents then?

Same references. Same monetary values. Different cargo.

That would seem logical: A parallel accounting system: one for the outside world, one for private records.

Yes, that works. Any competent criminal could make that work. And doubtless, with the money involved, they’d have accountants and bookkeepers… Perhaps even customs officers and tax inspectors on the payroll.

But none of that gives me the connection to Antonio’s bar or any of the others.

Why here?

Frustrated, mind spiralling inward…

Damn the coffee…

I order

*****

 

Charlotte

the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a

And the sunshine is that brilliant clear

use the exercise. Um…” I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the

an eye on Cara.” My Mom smiles from

five minutes,

to any that didn’t know him, but

*****

Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his eyes. “You’re wearing plenty of layers? It’s cold out

pullover. “Two woollens, a cotton top and

stoops by Charlie, locking his hands into a cup. “C’mon, I’ll give you a

Master slaps him on the shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh…

yard, he says, “I thought we might take the path through the top field then loop

“Great idea.”

*****

were no-one else in the world. The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head tossing, his gait dancing between a walk and

jarring under me. “They both do. They’ll settle

to the end of the

a finger. “Only to the fence.

Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to gallop in fewer hoofbeats than

seconds do I have the lead. Oliver is larger and heavier, more powerful, than Charlie and almost immediately, he thunders up, first closing behind me, then alongside, snorting steam as he pulls ahead. But as her son begins to draw away, Charlie jolts under me with another burst of speed and as we

a maniac, panting,

at the bottom, the air frigid and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s so good to be able to move again properly. Sometimes, it’s just good to be alive, isn’t

of the gate latch to let me through, clucks Oliver along behind me,

bridle path that will take us to the

I

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