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

*****

 

Charlotte

day…” 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 take

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

use the exercise. Um…” I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in the cot, trying, with unformed muscles, to reach for

from her rocking chair next to mine. “She’ll probably

you give me five minutes, just

that didn’t know him, but I see the hidden smile behind his eyes. Our daughter burbles

*****

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

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

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

shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re going now.” Oliver’s ears

“I thought we might take the path

“Great idea.”

*****

simply magical: just me 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 walk

Charlie, also performing, jarring under me.

to the end

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

and she moves from trot to canter

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 I, are neck and

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

fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s so good to be

the gate latch to

follow the bridle path that will take us to

I want

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