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…

I order another

*****

 

Charlotte

nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit sweater… “…I’m going to take Oliver out. Want

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

at the mobile rotating above her in the cot, trying,

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

give me five minutes, just while

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 see the hidden smile behind his eyes. Our daughter burbles a

*****

the stable, 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

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

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

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 long enough for my Master to mount. “Walk

“I thought we might take the path through the top field then loop back

“Great idea.”

*****

world. The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to

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

the

fence. No jumping. That gate

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

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

a maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are soft. “It’s good to see

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

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

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

I

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