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…

order another

*****

 

Charlotte

and boots he uses for

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

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

on Cara.” My Mom smiles from her rocking chair next to mine. “She’ll

five minutes,

face might seem impassive to any that didn’t know him, but I see the

*****

checking Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his

a cotton top and

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

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

he says, “I thought we might take the path through the

“Great idea.”

*****

The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head tossing,

also performing, jarring under me. “They both

you to the end of

finger. “Only to the fence. No jumping. That gate is

the wind as I kick heels at Charlie, and

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

and I do the same. I’m grinning like a maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s

lake glittering 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

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

that will take us to the

something I want to

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