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

*****

Charlotte

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

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

daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating

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

minutes, just while Cara drops

know him, but I see the hidden smile behind his eyes. Our daughter burbles a bit but doesn’t seem to mind. “Take all the time you need,” he says. “I’ll be

*****

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 layers? It’s cold out

neck of my roll-top pullover. “Two woollens, a cotton top

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

stamping 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

he says, “I thought we might take the path through the top field then loop back for the

“Great idea.”

*****

were no-one else in the world. The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head

eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring under me. “They both do. They’ll settle after they’ve

to the

“Only to the fence. No jumping. That

wind as I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to gallop in fewer hoofbeats than I

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, my Master and I, are neck

and 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 you smiling properly at

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

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

that will take us to

I want to ask