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

boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit sweater… “…I’m going

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

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

on Cara.” My Mom smiles from

five minutes, just while Cara

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 need,” he says. “I’ll

*****

Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with

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

he stoops by Charlie, locking his hands into a cup. “C’mon, I’ll give you a

neck. “Shhhh…

the yard, he says, “I thought we might take the path through the top

“Great idea.”

*****

wonderful Master, riding together as though there were no-one else in the world. The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is

says my Master, then eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring under me. “They

the end of

a finger. “Only to the fence. No jumping. That

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

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,

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

at the bottom, the air frigid and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue

it is.” He reaches out, lifting the long arm 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

something I

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