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

and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit sweater…

crisp snap to the air. And the sunshine is

Um…” I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in the

smiles from her rocking

me five minutes,

any that didn’t know him, but I see the hidden smile behind his eyes. Our

*****

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

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

twitch, then he stoops by Charlie, locking his hands into

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

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

“Great idea.”

*****

as though there were no-one else in the world. The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head tossing, his gait dancing

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

the end of

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

heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter

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

pulls Oliver to a standstill and I do the same. I’m grinning like a maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are soft. “It’s good to see you

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

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

take us to the

there’s something I want to ask

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