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

it’s a beautiful day…” My Master stands by the nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit

air. And the sunshine is that brilliant

love 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, with unformed muscles,

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

you give me five minutes, just while

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,”

*****

glances up from where he is checking Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his eyes. “You’re wearing plenty of

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

he stoops by Charlie, locking his hands into a

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

says, “I thought we might take the path

“Great idea.”

*****

and my wonderful Master, riding together as though there were no-one else in the world. The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the

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

you to the end

to the fence. No jumping. That gate is too

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

the lead. Oliver is larger and heavier, more powerful, than Charlie and almost immediately, he thunders 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

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

scan the field, stretching down the 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

it is.” He reaches out, lifting the long arm of the gate latch to let me through, clucks Oliver along behind me,

will take us to the trail through

there’s something I want to