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

jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit sweater… “…I’m going to take Oliver out. Want

crisp snap to the air. And the sunshine is that

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

on Cara.” My Mom smiles from her

five minutes,

His face might seem impassive to any that didn’t know him, but

*****

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

pullover. “Two woollens, a cotton top and a thermal vest Mom

hands

shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re going now.” Oliver’s ears flick forward, but he

we might take the path through the top field then loop

“Great idea.”

*****

simply magical: just me 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 bit. Head tossing, his gait dancing between a walk

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

the end of

finger. “Only to the fence.

at Charlie, and she moves

he pulls ahead. But as her son begins to draw away, Charlie jolts under me with another burst of speed and as we

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

mountain, the lake glittering at the bottom, the air frigid and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from

reaches out, lifting the long arm of the gate latch to let me through,

path that will take us to the trail through the

something I want to

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