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

door, wearing the jeans and boots he

is indeed a lovely day, with a crisp snap to the air. And the sunshine is that brilliant clear white you

at the mobile rotating

from

minutes, just while

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

*****

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

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

twitch, then he stoops by Charlie, locking his hands into a cup. “C’mon,

a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re

says, “I thought we might take the path through the top field then loop back for

“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

performing, jarring under me. “They both do. They’ll settle after they’ve burned

you to the end

“Only to the fence. No jumping. That gate

at Charlie, and she moves from trot to canter to gallop

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 son begins to draw away, Charlie jolts under me with another burst of speed and as we reach the end of the field,

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

air frigid and fresh. Oliver and Charlie blow blue from

to

bridle path that will take us to the

there’s something I want to

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