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…

I order

*****

Charlotte

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

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

tiny daughter, blinking at

My Mom smiles from her rocking chair

give me five minutes, just

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

*****

ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his

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

by Charlie, locking his hands into a cup. “C’mon, I’ll give you a leg

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

we might take the path through the top field then loop back for

“Great idea.”

*****

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,

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

to the

a 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

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

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

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,

to let me through, clucks Oliver along behind me, and lets

bridle path that will take us to the trail through the

something I want to ask