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 another

*****

Charlotte

nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit sweater… “…I’m going to take Oliver out. Want to

air. And the sunshine is that brilliant clear white you

tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in the cot, trying, with unformed muscles, to reach for

on Cara.” My Mom smiles from her rocking chair next to

give me five minutes, just while Cara drops

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 the time you need,” he says. “I’ll

*****

you.” Straightening up, he runs over

roll-top pullover. “Two woollens, a cotton top and a

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

My Master slaps him on the shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re going now.” Oliver’s ears flick forward, but he settles long enough for my Master

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

“Great idea.”

*****

riding together as though there were no-one else in the world. The ground is firm with the

my Master, then eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring under me. “They both do. They’ll

the end of the

to the fence. No jumping. That gate is too

I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to

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 and

grinning like a maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are soft. “It’s good to see you smiling properly

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

the long arm of the gate latch to let me

bridle path that will take us

something I want to ask