A is For Arson: A Langley & Porter Mystery (FIRST FIVE CHAPTERS)

4 Stolen

I had initially decided to walk home as the air felt less heavy than it had before but even the light exercise of walking had me breaking out into a sweat before long due to the uncommon city heat. So I decided to hail a hired cab instead. I paid the man what little coins I had left in my purse and settled in for the jostling ride back to my temporary home. The hansom took me directly to my sister's door and I thanked the gentleman and paid him before stepping onto the sidewalk, hoping that my sister had some leftovers from whatever they had eaten for lunch given the fact that such a meal had long since ended. I hoped that they had not been waiting on me or worried about me in any way. I had been gone much longer than I had anticipated or than I had told them to expect.

I was not aware that something, other than my own tardiness, was amiss until I came to rest just outside the door to the residences above my brother in law's butcher shop. That was when I heard the raised voices from within. I turned the knob and opened the door to find my father sitting in a chair, swaying half drunk. Liza was gripping his right arm to keep him seated and Victoria was bent over in his face, shaking her finger at him in admonishment. Benjamin was the only one who saw me enter. He glanced my way and gave me the smallest shake of the head when our eyes met.

"I cannot believe you would go back there!" my eldest sister was shouting. Her face was red and she paced in front of our father like a mad woman. "To risk your family's lives like that! They've already burned down your shop, Papa. What if they were to come here? To my home? And to make Benjamin come and get you! They know him now! They've seen his face!"

I glanced back to Benjamin and he nodded. So my father had returned to the gambling dens this morning and, if I was understanding my sister's tirade correctly, her husband had been forced to drag him out. I exchanged a glance with Liza. The concern was plain in her eyes. She looked from Victoria's tantrum to me, pleading with me to get involved. I was not sure yet if I should. Benjamin seemed to be warning me against it. He knew, better than anyone, how intense my sister's rage could be. But I knew as well, having grown up with her my entire life, and I knew that, if anyone in this family could face it, it was me.

Though I wasn't certain that I entirely disagreed with her. Our father deserved a bit of admonishment, if I was being honest with myself. He had endangered his family, had endangered Victoria's home and her husband. That was an offense that no woman could abide by. Still, he was her father. As drunk and disorderly as he was.

"I cannot allow you to remain in my home if you endanger my family," Victoria said then, the words falling into the tense air around us. Her anger had subsided somewhat, replaced by what appeared to be simple exhaustion. Now would be the most appropriate time to involve myself in the situation. If any time were appropriate at all. I stepped forward then and the movement drew all eyes to me.

"Perhaps Liza could remain here during the day," I suggested, a measured air of calm in my voice. I needed to diffuse the situation, not restart an argument. "Rather than finding employment. She could watch over father."

"Keep me prisoner here, you mean," my father snapped. I turned my eyes on him and glared. He was not helping his case. Could he not see what he was doing to Victoria? Could he not see the choice that he was forcing her to face? Victoria loved all of us dearly. I knew she did even though her overall gruff manner restricted her from showing us such affection. She would not relish having to decide between her sisters and her husband and the least we could do would be to behave under her roof so that she would not have to make such an atrocious choice. I knew the struggle that my father currently faced well enough but that gave him no excuse to act horrendously at the charity given to him by his eldest daughter.

"If that's what it takes to curb your addiction, then yes," I answered him and I could see the surprise on his face at my choice of words. He was so used to being coddled, so used to our admiration and mother's love but mother was gone and, as I could see it, his actions had forfeited my admiration for the moment. I could help him through this, we all could, but he needed to see that even a daughter's patience had it's limits. I approached him and softly laid a hand on his shoulder. "You are sick, Papa. Allow us to help you through it."