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

*****

 

Charlotte

beautiful day…” My Master stands by the nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and

with a crisp snap to the air. And

to. And Charlie could use the exercise. Um…” I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in the cot, trying,

smiles from her rocking chair next to

me five minutes, just

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

*****

Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening

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

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

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 ears flick forward, but he settles long enough for my Master to

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

“Great idea.”

*****

in the world. 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, everything

needs to run,” says my Master, then eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring under me. “They both do. They’ll

you to the end

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

and she moves from trot to canter to

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

panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are soft. “It’s good

bottom, the air frigid and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils.

latch to let me through, clucks

path that will take us to the trail through

I

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