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

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

to the air. And

love to. And Charlie could use the exercise. Um…” I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating

My Mom smiles from her rocking chair next to mine. “She’ll

five minutes, just while

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 bit but doesn’t seem to mind. “Take all the time you need,” he says. “I’ll be with the

*****

my Master glances up from where he is checking Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me

roll-top pullover. “Two woollens, a cotton top and a thermal vest Mom insisted I put

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

is stamping and snorting, eager to be off. My Master slaps him on the shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm

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

“Great idea.”

*****

in the world. The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head tossing, his gait dancing between a walk and a trot, everything about him says

jarring under me. “They both do. They’ll settle after they’ve

you to the end of the

to the fence. No

I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to

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

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

scan the field, stretching down the mountain, the lake glittering at the bottom, the air frigid and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s so good to be able to

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

bridle path that will take

I want