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

the jeans and boots he uses for riding,

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

exercise. Um…” I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at

on Cara.” My Mom smiles from her rocking chair

five minutes, just

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

*****

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 of layers?

my roll-top pullover. “Two woollens, a cotton top

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

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

says, “I thought we might take the path through

“Great idea.”

*****

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

performing, jarring under me. “They both do. They’ll settle

to the

fence. No jumping. That gate is

are lost to the wind as I kick heels at Charlie, and

he pulls ahead. But as her

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 properly at

down the mountain, the lake glittering at the bottom, the air frigid and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from

to let

will take us to the trail

I want to

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