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

*****

 

Charlotte

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

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

to. And Charlie could use the exercise. Um…” I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in the cot, trying, with unformed muscles, to reach for a

smiles from her rocking chair

minutes, just while Cara

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 bit but doesn’t seem to mind. “Take all the time you

*****

for you.” Straightening up, he

pullover. “Two woollens, a cotton top and

locking his hands into a

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

we might take 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 tossing, his gait dancing

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

the end

fence.

the wind as I kick heels at Charlie, and she

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

panting, my blood racing. My

fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s so good to be able to move again properly. Sometimes, it’s just good to

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

that will take us to the trail through the

I want to

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