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…

order

*****

Charlotte

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

is indeed a lovely day, with a crisp snap to the air. And the

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

smiles from her

me five minutes,

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

*****

girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his eyes. “You’re wearing plenty of layers? It’s

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

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

be off. My Master slaps him on the shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re going now.” Oliver’s ears flick forward, but he settles long enough for my Master to

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

“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. Head tossing, his gait dancing between a

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

you to the end of the

the fence. No jumping. That gate

at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to gallop in fewer hoofbeats than

thunders up, first closing behind me, then alongside, snorting steam as he pulls ahead. But as her son begins to draw away, Charlie jolts

maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are soft. “It’s good to see you smiling properly

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 move again properly. Sometimes, it’s just good to be alive, isn’t

it is.” He reaches out, lifting the long arm of the gate latch to let me through, clucks Oliver along behind me,

path that will take us to the

there’s something I want to