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

*****

Charlotte

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

tiny daughter, blinking at the

My Mom smiles from her rocking chair next

five minutes, just while

I 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 him, but I see the hidden smile behind his eyes. Our daughter burbles a

*****

he is checking Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his eyes. “You’re wearing plenty

the neck of my roll-top pullover. “Two woollens, a cotton top and

hands into a cup. “C’mon,

stamping and snorting, eager 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

we make our way through the yard, he says, “I thought we might take the

“Great idea.”

*****

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

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

you to the end of

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

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

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 I, are neck

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

I scan the field, stretching down the mountain, the 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 be alive, isn’t

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

the bridle path that will take us to the trail

there’s something I want