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

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

the air. And the sunshine is

the exercise. Um…” I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in

Mom smiles from her rocking

give me five minutes,

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 him, but I see the hidden smile

*****

stable, my Master glances up from where he is checking Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his eyes. “You’re wearing

a cotton top and a thermal vest Mom

hands into a cup. “C’mon, I’ll give

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

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

“Great idea.”

*****

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

run,” says my Master, then eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring under me. “They both do. They’ll settle after they’ve burned off some

to the end of the

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

final words are lost to the wind as I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to gallop in

for 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

grinning like a maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are

great.” I scan the field, stretching down the mountain, the lake glittering at the bottom, the air frigid and fresh. Oliver and

the gate latch to let

path that will take

I want to