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

boots he uses for riding, and a thick

snap to the air. And the sunshine

down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in the cot, trying,

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

minutes,

takes the few 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

*****

girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his eyes. “You’re wearing

a cotton top and a

by Charlie, locking his hands into a

the shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re going now.” Oliver’s ears flick forward, but

take the path through the top field then loop back

“Great idea.”

*****

the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head tossing, his

Charlie, also performing, jarring under

the end of

fence. No jumping. That

to the wind as I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter

up, first closing behind me, then alongside, snorting steam as he pulls ahead. But as her

same. I’m grinning like a maniac, panting, my

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

the gate latch to let me through, clucks Oliver

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

I want

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