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…

order another

*****

 

Charlotte

and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit sweater… “…I’m going to take Oliver out.

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

blinking at the mobile rotating above her in

on Cara.” My Mom smiles from

you give me 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,

*****

for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me

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

hands into a cup. “C’mon, I’ll give you a

Master slaps him on the shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh…

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

“Great idea.”

*****

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 and a trot, everything about him

Master, then eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring under me.

you to the end of

finger. “Only to the fence. No jumping. That gate is

his final words are lost to the wind as I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to

as he pulls ahead. But as her son begins to draw away, Charlie jolts under me with another burst of speed and as

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

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

arm of the gate latch to

follow the bridle path that will take

something I want to

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