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

by the nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick

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

tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in

on Cara.” My Mom smiles from her rocking chair

minutes, just

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

*****

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

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

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

hand up his neck. “Shhhh…

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

“Great idea.”

*****

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

my Master, then eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring

the end of

finger. “Only to the fence.

I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to gallop in fewer

as he pulls ahead. But as her son begins

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

air frigid and 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

lifting the long arm of the gate latch to let me through, clucks Oliver along

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

there’s something I want to ask

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