Hot Revenge Box Set 4

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…

order

*****

Charlotte

Master stands by the nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he

day, with a crisp snap to the air. And the sunshine is that brilliant clear white you only get in cold

daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in the cot, trying,

Mom smiles from her rocking chair next to mine. “She’ll probably sleep

me five minutes, just while

reaches down with a long finger, stroking Cara’s cheek. His face might seem impassive to any that didn’t know him, but I see the hidden smile behind his eyes. Our daughter burbles a bit but doesn’t seem to mind. “Take all

*****

“All ready for you.” Straightening

woollens, a cotton top and a thermal

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

him on the shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re going now.”

“I thought we might take the

“Great idea.”

*****

and my wonderful Master, riding together as though there 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 a trot,

Master, then eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring under me. “They both do. They’ll settle after they’ve burned

you to the end of the

finger. “Only to the fence.

kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to gallop in fewer hoofbeats than I

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 reach the end of the field, Charlie and Oliver, mother and son, my Master

a maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are soft. “It’s good to

at the bottom, the air frigid and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s

He reaches out, lifting the long arm of the gate latch to let me through, clucks Oliver along behind

will take us

there’s something I want to