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…

I order another

*****

Charlotte

beautiful day…” My Master stands by the nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick

snap to the air. And the sunshine is that brilliant clear white you only

my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her

smiles from her rocking chair next to mine. “She’ll

give me five minutes, just while Cara

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. Our daughter burbles a bit but doesn’t seem

*****

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

woollens, a cotton top and a thermal vest Mom insisted I

he stoops by Charlie, locking his hands into a

up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re going now.” Oliver’s ears flick forward, but he settles long enough for my Master to mount. “Walk

our way through the yard, he says, “I thought we might take the

“Great idea.”

*****

else in the world. The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head

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

the end of the

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

I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves

I have 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 burst of speed and as we reach the end of the field, Charlie and Oliver, mother and son,

do the same. I’m grinning like a maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are soft. “It’s

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,

lifting the long arm of the gate latch to let

take

there’s something I want to