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 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

And the sunshine is that brilliant

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

an eye on Cara.” My Mom smiles from her rocking chair next to

you give me five minutes, just while Cara

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

*****

my Master 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

roll-top pullover. “Two woollens, a cotton top

lips twitch, then he stoops by Charlie, locking his hands into a cup. “C’mon, I’ll give you a leg

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

we might take the path through the top field then

“Great idea.”

*****

ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head tossing, his gait dancing between a walk and a trot, everything about him

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

to the

to the fence. No

I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to

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 burst

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

Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s so good to be

long arm of the gate latch to let me

follow the bridle path that will take us to the

something I

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