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

wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit sweater… “…I’m

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

at the

an eye on Cara.” My Mom smiles from her rocking chair next to mine. “She’ll

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 ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his eyes. “You’re wearing plenty of layers? It’s

pullover. “Two woollens, a

Charlie, locking his hands into

off. My Master slaps him on the shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re going now.”

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

“Great idea.”

*****

The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head tossing, his gait dancing between a walk and a trot,

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

you to the end of

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

and she moves from trot to canter to gallop in fewer hoofbeats than I

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

the same. I’m grinning like a maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are soft. “It’s good to

and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s so good to be able

reaches out, lifting the long arm of the gate latch to let me through, clucks Oliver along behind

path that will take us to the trail

there’s something I want to