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…

I order another

*****

 

Charlotte

wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit

a crisp snap to the air. And the sunshine

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

Cara.” My Mom smiles from her

minutes,

steps 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.

*****

from where he is checking Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over

woollens, a cotton top and a thermal vest Mom insisted

hands into a cup. “C’mon, I’ll give you a

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

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

“Great idea.”

*****

is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head tossing, his gait dancing between

to run,” says my Master, then eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring under me. “They

the end of

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

and she moves from trot to

steam as he pulls ahead. But as her son begins to draw away, Charlie jolts under me

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

down the 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, clucks Oliver along behind me, and lets

follow the bridle path that will take us to the trail through

there’s something I want

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