Redemption by Rebecca King Page A

want a
McArthur in my family.”
    “You
have no family,” Ben argued. “Lizzie was all you had and you
couldn’t even treat her properly.”
    “’ Ere, step back,” one of the magistrate’s men ordered. In
spite of his order, the jailer side-stepped around Ben, and
continued to drag Julian toward the cart. “In you get.”
    “No,”
Julian spat. “I demand to be released at once. I haven’t done
anything wrong.”
    “You
killed her, admit it.” It choked Ben to actually say the words but
desperation drove him to provoke Julian, and get some answers
before he disappeared into the depths of the jail and was never
heard from again. When Julian merely glared at him, and lifted both
feet up to place them on the side of the jailer’s cart door so he
couldn’t be pushed inside, Ben moved closer.
    When he
spoke this time his voice was more conciliatory.
    “Where
is she, Julian? If you don’t want to get arrested for her murder
then tell me where she is. I will go and fetch her and bring her
back, and prove to the magistrate that she is still alive. It will
secure your release and all of this can be forgotten
about.”
    Julian
snorted, but temporarily lost his belligerence. He looked at Ben
with eyes that were startlingly solemn, and considerably more sober
than his visual appearance portrayed him to be. “There is nothing
you can do to help me, McArthur. Not now. It is far too late for
that.”
    “Did you
kill her?”
    “No, I
did not kill her,” he declared somewhat pompously. “I just don’t
know where she has gone, that’s all.”
    “Julian,
you were heard mumbling about bodies and Lizzie being gone,” Ben
warned him. His heart ached at the thought that she might actually
have been taken from him permanently, but he firmly forced the raw
pain aside and focused on getting the answers he needed.
    “The
staff told the magistrate when he questioned them. Last night, or
early this morning, when you finally found your way home, you were
rambling about Lizzie being gone, dead bodies, and nobody finding
you. Why would you do that if you hadn’t killed her? What were you
talking about? Even drunk, you have to admit that it is odd for
anyone to mutter such things.”
    There
was something in Julian’s eyes that warned Ben there was more he
wanted to say but he wasn’t going to talk about it right there and
then. Ben lifted a hand to beckon to the magistrate’s men to wait
for a moment and leaned toward Julian conspiratorially.
    “Where
is she likely to have gone? Do you have any relatives anywhere that
she might turn to?”
    Julian
shook his head. “I haven’t killed her, McArthur. She was my
step-sister. I am no good at looking after myself. I am not fit to
look after someone like her. She deserves better. I told her to get
out but I didn’t think she would actually do it, especially before
I got up.”
    “What
aren’t you saying? What’s going on?” Ben knew from the shifty way
Julian studied the dirty cobbled street that he was deciding
whether to tell him or not. In the end, Julian threw a look at Ben
that was full of sorrow. He shook his head sadly.
    “They
might have taken her in payment for my debts,” he whispered. He
then turned his attention to one of the magistrate’s men who
suddenly yanked on his arm in an attempt to get him into the cart
so they could leave.
    “Enough
gabbing now. In you go,” the man groused.
    “Who is
likely to have taken her? Just what the hell have you gotten
yourself into?” Ben called after him.
    Rather
than answer, Julian merely stared blankly back at him as he was
hauled bodily into the cart. For a moment, Ben didn’t think he was
going to answer, and stood helplessly to one side while the cart
door was slammed shut and locked tightly. His eyes met Julian’s
through the bars.
    “Some of
my somewhat more questionable creditors threatened to take her if I
didn’t pay them. They are some of the most disreputable people in
town. Believe me, if they have