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

by the nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick

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

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,

an eye on Cara.” My Mom smiles from her rocking chair next

five minutes,

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

*****

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

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

his hands into a cup. “C’mon, I’ll give you

neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re

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

“Great idea.”

*****

wonderful Master, riding together as though there were no-one else in the world. The ground is firm with the cold

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

to the

fence. No jumping. That gate is too

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

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 Master and I, are neck

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

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

of the gate latch to let me through, clucks

take us to the trail

something I want to

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