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 another

*****

 

Charlotte

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

the air. And the sunshine is that brilliant

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

keep an eye on Cara.” My Mom smiles from her rocking chair

minutes, just while Cara

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 daughter burbles a bit

*****

girth. “All ready for you.”

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

locking his hands into a cup.

his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re going now.” Oliver’s ears flick forward, but

might take the path through the top field then loop back for 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 to take the bit. Head tossing, his gait dancing between a walk and a trot, everything

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

you to the

fence. No jumping. That gate

are lost to the wind as I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to gallop in fewer

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

I’m grinning like a maniac, panting,

and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s so good to be able to move again properly. Sometimes, it’s

out, lifting the long arm of the gate latch to let

follow the bridle path that will take us to the trail

there’s something I want to ask

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