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…

order another

*****

Charlotte

beautiful day…” My Master stands by the nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he

day, with a crisp snap to the air. And the sunshine is that brilliant clear white you only get in

I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in the cot, trying, with unformed muscles, to reach for

Cara.” My Mom smiles from her rocking chair next to mine. “She’ll

minutes,

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 to

*****

is checking Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening

“Two woollens, a cotton top and a thermal vest Mom insisted I put

then he stoops by Charlie, locking his hands

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

might take the path through the top field

“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 Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head tossing, his gait dancing between

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

the

finger. “Only to the fence.

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

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,

pulls Oliver to a standstill and I do the same. I’m grinning like a maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are

the field, stretching down the mountain, the lake glittering at the bottom, the air frigid and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s so good to be able to

lifting the long arm of the gate latch to let

take us to the trail

there’s something I want to ask