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

*****

 

Charlotte

stands by the nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit sweater… “…I’m going

And the sunshine is that

to my tiny daughter, blinking at the

Cara.” My Mom smiles from her rocking

me five minutes, just while

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

*****

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

a cotton top and a thermal vest Mom insisted I

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

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

the yard, he says, “I thought we might take

“Great idea.”

*****

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

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

you to the end of the

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

at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to gallop in fewer hoofbeats

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

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

fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s so good to be able to move again properly.

the long arm of the gate latch to let me through, clucks Oliver along behind me,

the bridle path that will take us to the trail

there’s something I

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