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

door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit sweater…

And the sunshine is that brilliant clear white you only get in cold

the exercise. Um…” I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in

smiles from her rocking chair next to

five minutes, just while Cara

I can.” My Master takes the few steps to bring him 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, but I see the hidden smile behind his eyes. Our

*****

Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with his eyes.

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

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

snorting, eager to be off. My Master slaps him on the shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm

says, “I thought we might take the

“Great idea.”

*****

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

jarring under me. “They both do. They’ll

to the end of

to the fence. No jumping. That gate

kick heels at Charlie, and she

is larger and heavier, more powerful, than Charlie and almost immediately, he thunders up, first closing behind me, then alongside, snorting steam as he pulls ahead. But as her

He pulls Oliver to a standstill and I do the same. I’m grinning like a maniac, panting, my blood

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,

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

follow the bridle path that will take us

there’s something I

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