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 jeans and boots he uses for riding, and

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

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

My Mom smiles from

you give me five minutes, just

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 behind his eyes. Our daughter burbles a bit but doesn’t seem to mind. “Take all the time you need,” he says. “I’ll be with the

*****

where he is checking Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up,

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

then he stoops by Charlie, locking his hands into a cup. “C’mon,

to be off. 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

our way through the yard, he says, “I thought we might take the path through the top field

“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

performing, jarring under me. “They both

to the end of the

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

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

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

standstill and I do the same. I’m grinning like a maniac, panting, my

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,

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

bridle path that will take us to the trail through the

there’s something I want