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

boots he uses for

is indeed a lovely day, with a crisp snap to the air. And

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

five minutes, just while Cara drops

can.” My Master takes the few steps to bring him close to me, then reaches down with a long finger, stroking Cara’s cheek. His face might seem impassive to any that didn’t know

*****

you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his eyes. “You’re wearing plenty

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

locking his hands into a cup.

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

we make our way through the yard, he says, “I thought we might take the path through the top field then loop back for the

“Great idea.”

*****

simply magical: just me 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

says my Master, then eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring under

you to the end

to the fence. No

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

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

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

and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue

to let me through, clucks Oliver along behind me, and lets the gate swing

that will take us to the trail through

something I want to ask

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