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

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

with a crisp snap to the air. And the sunshine is that brilliant clear

the exercise. Um…” I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above

smiles from her rocking chair

me five minutes, just while Cara

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

*****

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

“Two woollens, a cotton top and a thermal vest Mom

twitch, then he stoops by Charlie, locking his hands

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

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

“Great idea.”

*****

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

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

to the

the fence.

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

do I have the lead. Oliver is larger and heavier, more powerful, than Charlie 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 the end of the field, Charlie and Oliver, mother and son, my Master and

He pulls Oliver to a standstill 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

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

long arm of the gate latch to let me

path that will take us to the trail through the

there’s something I want to ask