It took him five minutes to cave and reach for the plastic that encased Robert Alderson. His jacket, while very nicely cut, wasn't quite up to the task of saving him from hypothermia. He wrapped it around him, covering his head and ears and tried not to dwell on the corpse he'd stolen from. His slow shuffle around the freezer was his compromise between frostbite and asphyxia, but he doubted it was working He'd hoped the plastic sheeting would help him retain some body heat around his body as he kept his circulation going but, as the air misted in front of his face and his fingers and face began to go numb, he had a funny feeling he was only putting off the inevitable.

He looked at his watch through the plastic sheeting. He had been trapped in here for eighteen minutes now. And nobody had come looking for him. It was beginning to worry him, if he were honest. He'd expected to be found by now.

A series of possibilities presented themselves to him, none of them good. One, Dani and Edrisa were hurt or, worse, dead; two, Dani and Edrisa are alive but trapped elsewhere in the house; three, Dani and Edrisa are alive and well but have been distracted from searching for him.

Malcolm looked out the small freezer window, catching his neon reflection in the glass. Frost was already clinging to his eyelashes and his nose was definitely on the ruddy side He found himself hoping fervently that it was the latter option and not one of the former two. Dani might be armed but she was definitely outnumbered, and if there was one thing Malcolm Bright nee Whitley knew, it was the lengths a person will go to, in order to protect their family.

"Too true, son. Something you should have thought about before you started rattling the cage, eh?"

Malcolm sighed, turning to see a familiar figure perched on the edge of the butcher's table, peering into Roger Alderson's face. "Please, go away,"

Martin Whitley grinned cheerily. "Well, I wish I could oblige, Malcolm, but seeing as this is the stress induced hallucination portion of your evening, I can't really do much about it. can I? This is all on you."

"Of course it is," Malcolm sighed, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I can create a place of peace and safety no matter where I am. I can create a place of peace and safety no matter where I am . …

"Tut, tut, tut, that isn't going to work Malcolm, you know it isn't. We both know it isn't me that really frightens you, it's yourself. You've always felt safe around me, even when you really, really shouldn't."

"Can't you let me freeze to death in peace?" Malcolm asked, hating the plaintive note in his voice.

"Oh now, we couldn't have that," Martin said. "Nobody should die alone. Am I right Eve?"

Malcolm felt his chest tighten painfully as the body behind his father, the one who should have been Chance Burke, slowly sat up. She wore a resplendent white dress, like the one in his dreams. She smiled at Martin, her eyes clear of the anger she had shown him in real life. "That's right, Mr Whitley," she said. Dying alone is not what it's cracked up to be."

"And Eve should know," Martin mused. "Dying at the hands of Endicott's killer for hire mustn't have been pretty. I bet you get fired up even remembering that; maybe it even eases the guilt you feel for disposing of his body?"

"If in fact he ever felt guilt at all," Eve said.

"Another good point," Martin said. "She's really on fire today, isn't she?"

Malcolm ducked his dead down, watching his feet as he shuffled along. If he didn't look, maybe they would fade away. He was beginning to feel drowsy, which wasn't a good sign. Hypothermia was becoming a definite possibility.

"Better keep moving, son, you don't want to lose those fingers and toes."

Malcolm nearly rolled his eyes but stopped himself in time. Things were pretty bad when you started getting passive aggressive with your own hallucinations.

"He's ignoring you," said Eve's spector.

"Yes, he does that a lot. Malcolm was always a bit of a sulker. One of his failings, I believe. Especially in a situation like this. We are figments of his mind after all. We're here to help him -perhaps he'll talk to the other guy."

Malcolm glanced up and immediately regretted it. The body on the other table had begun to move, using its elbows to prop itself up, The wound that ripped across his vocal shorts was a gory mess and his torso shredded, his wounds weeping through the expensive fabric.

"Probably not," Nicholas Enidcott said, almost cheerily. "He did try to sweep me under the rug, after all."

"Well, technically, he rolled you up in the living room rug and fedexed you to Estonia," Martin drawled. "I've never been more proud."

"For the final time, I didn't mail him to Estonia, I-" He shook his head. Why was he arguing with himself? He must be losing it.

"That's not why you're arguing with yourself," Eve said softly, dropping her bare feet to the floor. Her dress floated around her as she went to stand beside Martin. "You're distracting yourself from the one question you're trying to avoid. What do we three have in common and why are you trying so hard to ignore it."

"Well, we all know why," Martin drawled.. "I mean, consider the lengths you went to, trying to find your sister. You insinuated yourself into my family, slithered into my son's bed-"

"Enough, I don't think I can take anymore of this," Malcolm sighed.

"Quite right," Endicott said. "Now if you could do us all a favour and slip into unconsciousness so we can fade away again, that would be nice."

Malcolm ignored him and shuffled another few feet, it had become harder to move, although he wasn't sure if that was because the plastic was beginning to stiffen with ice or his body was shutting down. His mind was becoming a little muddled.

Which was one of the tell tale signs of hypothermia, now that he thought about it. He was running out of time. This Martin Whitly might be a figment of his own mind, but he did have a point. There must be a reason why his mind conjured all three of them up.

He turned to look at them. "Eve, you were a good person. I...I cared about you," he said. "And I understood why you left. You cared about your sister. You wanted to help her, protect her, I know what that's like."

"His eyes darted to Endicott. "Which means I know why you're here too. You're my own personal hell. Proof of the lengths I'm prepared to go to, to protect my family. I thought I had limits, I thought I had a line I wouldn't cross, but I was wrong."

"You're a good brother, Malcolm, that isn't something to be ashamed of," Martin said, in that soft warm voice that reminded him of his childhood in the most painful of ways.

"And you Dr Whitly" he said. Dad, he thought. "Remind me every day that I'm only too capable of loving a monster. What does that say about me?" He leaned against the outer wall of the fridge. He could feel his eyes begin to close. Drowsiness, another one of the symptoms of Hypothermia, he didn't have much longer.

His father was standing over him now. When had he slid to the floor? "It's not a crime to love your family, son," he said.

"No, but what do you call it when you enable them?" Malcolm murmured, as that familiar quiet dread bubbled up inside him. He loved his sister, but that didn't mean he couldn't see her flaws. He had told Ainsley that her memory loss was due to the trauma, but it was also a common symptom of those who have experienced a triggered psychotic episode.

If it happened again, what would he do? Would he just keep cleaning up after her, hiding her bodies? He shivered at the memory of it, a flush of shame running through him as he realised he'd actually felt pleasure in the act.

"Oh, how you've grown," Martin said, his voice the very epitome of the proud father. "You were too young to properly understand what I was sharing with you as a child, I know that now, but you've evolved. You can see what I was trying to show you now. We Whitlys….there is a bond we share that nobody else can truly understand."

"Dr Whitly," Malcolm said. "Would you please shut up."

"But you're dying, Malcolm, can't you see it?" Martin said. "This might be my only chance to tell you what I really feel."

Malcolm let out a snort. "Now I know you're a figment of my imagination. You've never been honest with me. You're too afraid of me leaving you. I'm your vicarious connection to the outside world."

"Well now I'm hurt," Martin said, pouting.

"You're a predatory psychopath, your feelings can't be hurt," Malcolm muttered. "And manipulation is not love." He closed his eyes, letting the fog drift over him. He had hung on long enough, hadn't he? It was time to sleep.

"Malcolm," his father said.

"Malcolm"

A hand stroked his hair, he heard his father's voice. "Don't worry, Malcolm, I'm not letting you go that easily."

"Malcolm, hold on!"

Warmth, he felt warmth. Was this the end?

"Shit, Edrisa, why won't he wake up?"

"Give him a few moments. His heart rate has evened out. The electric blankets seemed to be doing the trick. Make some tea - lots of sugar."

He tried to open his eyes but they wouldn't cooperate. His limbs felt heavy, like he was half asleep.

"Malcolm, Malcolm, can you hear me?"

Yes , he tried to say, but what came out was a slurred mess.

"Oh, thank goodness - Dani, he's regaining consciousness!"

Was he? It sure didn't feel like it.

"Don't try to say anything, Malcolm, just concentrate on trying to open your eyes."

This time, his eyelids slid open and Edrisa and Dani's relieved faces came into focus. "Hi," he said. His voice sounded off, a little too gruff, but at least he sounded intelligible.

"Hey," Dani said, holding up a streaming mug "You need to drink this."

It took them a few minutes to prop himself up with the electric blankets wrapped around his torso but eventually he was able to take a sip. It tasted awful, which wasn't surprising since it had at least ten spoons of sugar in it.

"Yeah, sorry about that,"Dani said, with a small laugh. "But Edrisa said the sugar was important. You gave us a scare."

"That makes three of us," he said, as a shiver went through him. He felt like he could sleep for a week but, otherwise, he felt remarkably good; no ominous tingling or loss of feeling in his extremities.

"You got lucky," Edrisa said, her voice uncharacteristically muted. "The plastic wrapping probably saved your life."

"Huh, good to know," Malcolm said, as he looked down at his bare legs.. "Where are my clothes?"

"In the dryer," Dani said. "They should be ready soon.

Malcolm swallowed down a wince as he imagined his thousand dollar suit going through a heat cycle. He supposed he was getting off lightly. Neither of them had made a joke about getting him naked yet, which was probably a testament to how much he'd scared them.

"It was Bobby," he said.

Dani nodded. "Yeah, we figured it out eventually, although his sister tried to cover for him. We have him locked into one of the upstairs bedrooms. The family isn't happy about it, but he eventually caved when he realised we were going to comb the house for you. He confessed to everything.

Malcolm felt his heart sink. "Everything?"

Dani eyed him, suddenly wary. "Yeah, why?"

"Because Bobby may have locked me into the freezer but he isn't the murderer, Abigail is," he said. "And we need to find her quickly because I don't think she's finished."


Two hours later, they still hadn't tracked Abigail Cambridge down. Which meant they were now reduced to searching the entire Island. Dani had thrown him a wary look as he'd lifted a sword from its display hook but said nothing. None of them knew how well Abigail was armed

This isn't good" Malcolm said, as he watched the sun dip close to the treeline. "We're going to lose the light soon."

"And she's probably not even out here," Dani muttered. "You could hide an army in that medieval nightmare they call a house." She looked around. "Where has Edrisa gone to? I knew we should have left her behind."

Malcolm said nothing as he glanced around, looking for her. He hadn't voiced his fears aloud to Dani, but there was no way he was going to leave Edrisa alone in that house with that family. From now on, they went everywhere together. "Edrisa?"

"Here!" A disembodied voice said. "Look what I found!" The medical examiner popped up out of the undergrowth, making herself visible again. She held a flower delicately in her gloved hand.

"Monkshood," Malcolm said. "You've found our weapon. That means she's familiar enough with the terrain to track down where it grows."

"Which isn't a good thing," Dani reminded him.

Malcolm pulled a face. She was right. They were wandering around in a strange woods with a killer who knew every inch of it. That didn't bode well for their future. "We should at least walk back to the dock before we go back. It find it unlikely Abigail didn't leave herself a means of escape. "

Dani slowly nodded her head. "I still can't believe it was her," she admitted. "She seemed the most normal of them."

"And she still is, relatively speaking," Malcolm said. "She didn't kill them out of rage, or some sort of psychopathology, she did it for the money."

"How did you figure it out, though," she said. "That it was her, not Bobby."

"Well, you remember how I said that some things weren't matching up. That some of the killer's actions seemed cool and calculated, like the poisonings, while others seemed clumsy or panicked-"

"Like the way the phone line was cut and the jammer activated, yeah," Dani said, nodding.

"Well, the reason why they didn't match up was because they weren't done by the same person. It was Abigail who murdered her grandfather and Chance Burke, but it was Bobby who tried to make sure she wasn't caught. He was trying to protect her." Some part of him had known that from the very beginning, he realised.

"It wasn't very smart of him," Dani said. "He just made himself an accessory to murder."

"She's his sister," Malcolm said "Some people will do anything for their family, especially if that family member is the only one who has ever shown him even a smidgeon of unconditional love."

Dani looked at him sharply and Malcolm realised he may have said a little too much.

"But I don't understand why she did it?" Edrisa said, ploughing through the sudden uncomfortable silence. "Why did she kill them? What was the motive?"

"Well, it turns out William was right, after all. It was about the will."

Dani folded her arms. "Do tell."

Malcolm started walking again. "I think it was the father's emotional disengagement that first set my alarm bells ringing," he said. " That lack of enmeshment with his family seemed curious. It usually indicates some kind of psychopathology but he didn't have any of the other indicators, which only left the one other major cause of emotional disengagement - addiction. He didn't have the telltale physical signs of alcohol or drug addiction, which left only door number three."

"He's a gambler," Dani said. "They're having money issues."

"Yes," Malcolm agreed. "Which means Alexander Cambridge's addiction must be all consuming. It takes real effort to gamble away a fortune that big."

"It must have seemed like a godsend when Robert decided to leave the money to Bobby instead of William," Dani said, frowning slightly. "But that only gave her a motive to kill the grandfather. Why did she kill Chance Burke?"

"You know, that puzzled me for a while too," Malcolm said. "But then I remembered what my father said about Robert. He was a narcissistic sociopath who liked to toy with the lives of his family members and was as petty as hell. He actually paid a man to sleep with his wife in order to divest her of a few million dollars. What other lengths would he go to, to get his own way?"

"I'm sure you're about to tell us," Dani said.

Malcolm grinned. "The will was a feint," he explained. "Robert was in love with Jenny Merryweather, or as close to in love as a sociopath can get, but he knew William would throw as many obstacles in his path as possible if he found out. Firstly because a new wife meant there was a possible new sibling to share the honeypot."

"And secondly, because he was sleeping with Jenny," Dani said.

"Exactly!" Malcolm said. "Robert needed to distract William and get him to take his eyes off the ball. He wrote up the new will and had Abigail and Chance sign it, and then almost immediately voided it with yet another one - not that they knew that at the time. He still needed one of them to spill the beans."

"Which happened almost immediately," Dani said. "William knew Bobby was going to inherit everything in the new will."

"And after that, well, a number of things could have happened," Malcolm said. "All with pretty much the same end result. My guess is Abigail found out there was yet another will and destroyed it, probably with Chance's help-"

"Because they were lovers," Dani said, realisation hitting her. "The way you said he called out her name when she entered his room. He wasn't hallucinating, he knew exactly who was there - and was begging for his life."

"In vain, it turns out," Malcolm said. Because Bobby wasn't the only one who would do anything for family, he thought. He felt more than a sliver of sympathy for Abigail. It was a classic example of destructive parentification, in which the child takes on the parental role as the parent falls further into his addictive habits. He knew the lengths one would go to in that situation. With an incarcerated father and a traumatised mother who'd begun to spend a little too much time day drinking, Malcolm had first hand experience of it, growing up. "We should keep going," he said aloud.

They made it to the dock as the sun hit the horizon, and Edrisa squinted, lifting her hand to shield her glasses as she looked out over the water. "Is that a boat?" she asked, pointing.

Malcolm followed her finger. Sure enough, a boat seemed to be heading in their direction. He was vaguely aware of Dani unholstering her gun and felt a moment of unease. There was something off about this. "Boats are too easy to track," he said aloud. "I'd have used a helicopter."

"Yeah, well, their helicopter is a trash pile in the middle of their courtyard," Dani said. "Maybe this was her plan B."

"A family like this owns more than one helicopter," Malcolm said. "And she would never have relied on Chance's piloting skills for her escape."

"Maybe it's Lieutenant Arroyo," Edrisa said. "He might have got worried."

Malcolm's eyes narrowed as the boat grew closer. He still couldn't pick out a face but there was something about the way the figure on the prow moved… He gulped dryly as he realised Gil wasn't the only one who might have come looking for them when he fell off the grid.

"We need to fall back" he got out, stumbling back. "Quick! Run for the trees."

"Bright?" Dani looked at him as if he'd grown an extra head.

"It's my father," Malcolm said. "And he's not alone, If Martin is on the prow, that means someone else is steering the boat. We're outnumbered and most probably outgunned. We need to run and find ourselves a better position of defense."

She tilted her head at him. "I'm a police officer, Malcolm, I can't do that."

"Dani, please, do as I ask. You have no idea of what he's capable of."

"I've read the files."

Malcolm pulled his hand through his hair. How could he explain the full horror of what his father was capable of? "Those files don't tell you everything, Dani. You think my father hasn't come prepared to take you out? You're his greatest threat on this Island. He probably already has you in his sights and we're out in the open here." He grabbed Edrisa's hand, pulling her away from the water's edge. "We're going back to the house."

"Great, running from one killer into the arms of the other," Dani said, not budging from her position.

"Killers, Dani," he reminded her. "Plural, all of whom will not only show no hesitation but also derive pleasure from our deaths. They're addicts who haven't had a fix in years. Do you really want to be their first meal?" he watched as the boat veered right. "They've spotted us. Which means they're going to beach the boat somewhere else."

"We'll follow the coastline," Dani said.

"Dani," Malcolm said. "If we try to keep up with the boat we'll be winded by the time we catch up. It's better we get ahead of them. We know where they're going. Lets get there first."

Grudgingly, she holstered her. "You better be right about this."

Malcolm stayed silent, as he started running towards the house, dragging Edrisa with him. Edrisa was looking decidedly green around the gills but Dani easily caught up with him and they set a jogging pace.

Why hadn't he seen this coming? For some strange reason, he'd thought that it would be just him and his father, he hadn't thought about the potential collateral damage. Even the thought of his father getting his hands on Dani or Edrisa was sending him onto a panic.

I can create a place of peace and safety no matter where I am. I can create a place of peace and safety no matter where I am .

Yeah, that wasn't working.

Dread filled his veins. He knew his father wouldn't kill him. No, the fate Martin Whitly had in store for him was so much worse, and Malcolm knew him well enough to be afraid for Dani and Edrisa. In his eyes, they would be leverage, and Malcolm wasn't sure if he had the courage to say no to him if their lives were on the line.

Or the will to say no to him, if he were being honest with himself.

And that wasn't even factoring who was with him. Friar Pete and Hector were definite possibilities, and Bert, Malcolm thought, and then there was Tevin; he'd have to watch his back with that one if he didn't want an axe buried there.

He needed a plan, one that he knew Dani wouldn't approve of, in order to beat his father. He had to unlock that part of him that he didn't like to admit was there. The part that knows how to manipulate a person, how to turn them against themselves. The part that's willing to hurt someone, maybe even kill them. Not because his life was on the line, but because the life of someone he cared about was. It was the lesson he'd learned when he carved up Endicott's body, when he got rid of the murder weapon, and when he tired to convince Ainsley to forget.

Not that Ainsley took his advice.

He shied away from that thought. His fears are not reality, he told himself firmly. you have no actual proof that Ainsley suffers from the same psychopathology as our father.

Not yet, at least.

Oh yes, Martin Whitly had thought this out perfectly, Malcolm thought, as the looming castle came back into view. He had stacked the odds firmly in his favour and cornered Malcolm into a situation where he had no choice but to let that part of him out.

He looked down at his hand. It wasn't shaking. Malcolm wasn't sure that was a good thing.

Beatrice Cambridge was waiting for them when they made it to the courtyard. "I'm sorry, but William has let this go on long enough. I'm going to ask you to leave and not come back until you have a warrant."

"Exigent circumstances," Dani said crisply, we don't need a warrant."

"Well, I think my lawyer may have something-"

Mrs Cambridge," Malcolm interrupted. I know it's been a few decades but you do know who I am, right? Your daughter must have told you. I'm Malcolm Whitly, you used to be friends with my mother?" There was a sliver of recognition in her eyes, then fear. He was used to that reaction but it still stung.

"My daughter neglected to mention that fact." she said.

"And have you been keeping up with the news recently?"

"Your father escaped custody," she said, her eyes fluttering as she tried to keep up with the rapidly changing landscape of their conversation.

"Yes," Malcolm said. "And now he's here and he's not alone. Does that portcullis work or is it just for show?"

Her face blanched, going blank with terror. "Yes," she breathed. "It's motorised. The switch is inside."

Malcolm's eyes darted over to Dani, who belted towards the door. A few moments later, the portcullis began to drop and Malcolm adjusted the grip he had on his blade.

"How bad is this going to get?" Edrisa asked softly.

"Well, they're going to get in sooner or later, and then it depends on whether pragmatism has trumped their natural inclinations."

"What do you mean?" Beatrice asked shakily

"Well, as you know, my father likes to kill with a scalpel, while Tevin prefers to use an axe. Friar Pete likes to flay his victims alive and Hector prefers a knife. I'm not sure what Burt's likes to use but, with his explosive temper, I suspect he uses his fists." He tugged Edrisa into the foyer, Beatrice in tow. It was best if they stayed out of his father's line of sight for a long as possible. It would reduce the possibility of impulsive actions.

"You say that like it's a good thing," Edrisa said, as she extricated her hand from his grip and went to stand beside Dani. Maybe he was hanging on a little too tightly, but Dani could take care of herself and knew exactly what she was dealing with, while Edrisa's natural inclination to run headlong into a deadly situation because something shiny caught her eye definitely put her at risk.

"It is a good thing," Malcolm insisted. "They derive their pleasure from bodilly contact with their victims, which means they're less likely to use long ranged weapons. They may have guns, but they won't use them unless they have to. A bullet won't feed their habit."

"Yeah, still not seeing the upside to that," Dani said.

"It gives us time," Malcolm said, turning to Beatrice. "You need to convince your son to turn off the jammer."

"I can't do that," Beatrice said, letting her eyes fall to the ground.

Malcolm's heart sank. "You let him out, didn't you?"

"He's just a boy!" She protested. "He doesn't deserve this!"

"He's a minor, comes from a wealthy background, and didn't actually kill anyone," Malcolm told her. "He won't serve time in Juvenile Detention, Beatrice, and his file will be sealed when he reaches eighteen."

Beatrice glared at him. "Why should I believe you?"

Malcolm sighed. "I understand, really I do, but you're not evaluating the true risk to your son's future right now. He is in imminent danger of losing his life today, as are you all. We need to contact the mainland as soon as possible or none of us may be alive by morning." Well, he might be, but he was pretty sure nobody needed to hear that right now.

"Is there another entrance from outside the curtain wall?" he asked aloud, her hesitation told him his answer. "Where is it?"

"It's a tunnel, it extends from the kitchens to the woods," she said reluctantly.

What was it with old families and their secret tunnels, Malcolm thought, sighing in exasperation. "Right, so we need a way to barricade the kitchen," he said. "Anything else."

"Well, there is the servant's exit, but that is kept locked at all times." Beatrice said. "Peterson has the key." Footsteps signalled the arrival of the rest of the family, and Malcolm braced himself for impact.

"What the hell is going on here?" William Alderson boomed. "Beatrice, I thought you were going to send him on his way."

Malcolm resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As if he could brush off the pursuit of his fugitive niece as if it were a gnat. Had he really thought they'd toddle off, cap in hand, at Beatrice's say so? "Mr Alderson," he said. "The situation has escalated."

"He's a Whitley," Beatrice burst out. "Martin's kid."

William's eyes narrowed. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked. "What the hell is going on here?"

"No time, Mr Alderson," Malcolm said. "Martin Whitly has just made land on the island, along with his fellow escapees. We need to find the cell phone jammer and you need to arm yourself." he looked around. "Where is Peterson?"

But William Alderson was in no mood to discuss the location of his groundskeeper. "What do you mean your father is on the island? What is the meaning of this? I want you and your father off this Island right now!"

I can create a place of peace and safety no matter where I am.

Malcolm took a deep breath. "Mr Alderson, I'd love to oblige, really I would, but even putting aside the fact we're here to bring your niece and nephew into custody. There is the simple matter that my father is not going to go away just because you give him a stern talking to. You and your family are in clear and present danger, and we need to get help here as soon as possible - which means, we need to disable the cell phone jammer."

"I didn't know what you mean," William bluffed.

Malcolm closed his eyes. This was getting them nowhere.

"Well, maybe you'll understand what I'm saying," Dani said, stepping in. "If you don't help us find the cellphone jammer, I'll arrest you for accessory after the fact and lock you up until we've dealt with the situation."

"You wouldn't dare." he hissed.

"Try me," Dani said. "Martin Whitly killed twenty three people in cold blood, and now he's here and brought his serial killers friends with him. Do you really think he's going to leave this Island without having a little fun with you first. From what I've heard, he isn't exactly a fan of the Aldersons. Something about your pervy father hitting on his wife while she was still in high school?" His face paled as he glanced back at the rest of the family, who stared back at him like frightened sheep. Probably not his most charitable thought, Malcolm realised , but apt.

"I can't be sure, but he's probably hidden it in his bedroom. First floor, third door on the right," he eventually said.

"I'll find it," Edrisa said, heading for the stairs. "I've had the most experience pulling apart a room for evidence."

Malcolm felt a flash of fear as she disappeared up the stairs but tamped it couldn't keep tabs on everything right now. He needed to triage the situation. "We need to barricade the kitchen exit and find Peterson to make sure the other exit is secure. "He said. "The longer we can keep them out, the better. Let's not make it easy for them."


It took them a few minutes, but he and Dani managed to maneuver a kitchen display cabinet in front of the tunnel exit. Dani locked the kitchen door and pocketed the key. "That should slow them down," she muttered.

Malcolm tried to smile reassuringly at her but the truth was he didn't think the tunnel was the greatest threat to their safety. Even if his father knew of its existence, he'd still have to find the other side of it in the woods. No, it was the servant's entrance he was the most worried about. It wouldn't take them long to identify it and somehow he doubted the door had its own personal portcullis.

A sudden chirp in his jacket pocket made him jump and he fished out his phone. "I guess Edrisa found the jammer," he muttered.

Dani promptly pulled out her own phone and began to dial. "Gil," she said. "We have a situation here…"

Malcolm didn't bother to listen to the rest of the conversation. He had no doubt Dani was going to call out the Cavalry to help them. No, he was much more worried about the 27 calls he'd missed from an unknown number. He held the phone up to his ear.

"Malcolm, is something wrong with your phone, I keep going to Voicemail."

"Malcolm, now this is really unfair. You know we need to talk."

"Malcolm, this is not funny, pick up your phone."

"Now, my boy, I know you're a little upset with me, but that is no reason to ignore me."

"Okay, now I'm getting worried. It's one thing ignoring me but ignoring your mother too? I'm most disappointed."

"And Ainsley too. This is unlike you, son. I'm coming to find you-"

Malcolm hung up, he didn't need to hear the rest. He had known this would happen sooner or later, that his father's need to manipulate him would eventually overcome his cautiousness. He rang his mother.

"Malcolm, where have you been?"

"Sorry, Mother, cell phone issues," he said. "Martin Whitly was in touch with you?"

"Well, that is one way of putting it. He's such an insufferable nag. I would have hung up but Gil insisted we try and trace the call."

Malcolm closed his eyes. "Think, Mother what did he say to you when he realised you hadn't been in contact with me."

"Oh, nothing that made sense. Something about the Aldersons being a bunch of old pirates which, honestly, he kind of had a point about, but all the old families have skeletons in their closets."

"Trust me, mother, I know," Malcolm said dryly. "Did he go into any specifics?"

There was a pause on the other side of the line. "Why, what's going on, Malcolm?"

"So that's a no?"" Malcolm asked.

"Don't try to pretend you didn't hear my question, Malcolm-"

"Sorry, Mother, Detective Powell is trying to catch my attention. Talk to you soon."

Dani looked unimpressed with him. "You're a little old to lie to your Mom, aren't you?"

"Is Gil sending help?" he asked, as he dialled Ainsley's number.

"They're sending out a SWAT team by helicopter," Dani said. They should be here in about 20 minutes - and don't think this is the end of this conversation. You are not allowed to use my name as an excuse to hang up on your Mom, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Malcolm said automatically, ducking his head as she glared at him. Luckily, Ainsley picked that exact moment to pick up her phone.

"Malcolm, are you okay?"

"I'm fine Ainsley, we just didn't have any cell coverage for a while," he said, trying to inject as much reassurance into his voice as he could. "Listen, I know Dad was in touch with you-"

"Don't worry, I didn't tell him where you are ," she said.

"Yeah, about that, he kind of already knows where I am."

"What do you mean? Do you - oh my goodness, Malcolm, is he there?"

"Lets just say he's nearby," Malcolm prevaricated. "So what did he say?"

"Oh, I don't know, Malcolm, the usual?" Ainsley snapped. " He kept talking about how he needed to help you because you're going through a trying time right now. Whatever that means."

Malcolm fisted his shaking hand. "And you, how did he say he was going to help you?"

There was a pause. One that went on a little too long. "What the hell are you talking about, Malcolm?"

He wasn't the only Whitly who was good at prevarication. He caught Dani's eyes, she was beginning to look more than a little impatient . "Never mind, talk to you later, Ainsley."

"Wait, Mal-"

He hung up, frowning as it immediately began to ring again. "It's Edrisa," he said, looking at the ID before he answered.

"We've got a problem," Edrisa said. " The Aldersons found Peterson and he's dead. Blunt force trauma to the head."

"Did he still have his keys on him?" Malcolm asked, as he hurried down the hall. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the drawing room and no, his keys are missing."

"What is going on," Dani hissed.

"Peterson is dead, which probably means it was Abigail who took his keys." Malcolm said to Dani, putting his phone on speaker. "Edrisa, have you seen any signs of Bobby?"

"Well, his drawers were all pulled open and it looked like he'd gone through his wardrobe in a hurry, " Edrisa said. " My money says he's made a run for it."

"Damn it," Malcolm said, as he hung up. We're going to have to assume my father has already apprehended them."

"Well we know Abigail doesn't seem to have a problem killing people," Dani muttered as they reached the main landing "Maybe they'll take each other out."

"Actually, I'm afraid poor Abigail didn't really have it in her to survive a direct confrontation."

Malcolm froze, vaguely aware of Dani pulling her gun out as he looked up at the figure standing on the stairs. His father was wearing a bland looking suit and had trimmed his beard, and wouldn't have looked out of place strolling along the upper east side - if it weren't for the blood splatter on his shirt.

"You look surprised, my boy, surely you've listened to my messages?"

"She and Ainsley went to school together," he eventually said.

"Really?" his father exclaimed. "Well, I'm glad I made it quick then.

Something gave inside Malcolm. Abigail may have been a killer but he had understood her." You didn't have to do that," he said.

"Actually, I kind of did," Martin said, as he began to descend the stairs. An object glinted in his hand, a scalpel. "She was feisty."

"Don't make another move, Dr. Whitly," Dani said. "Or I will shoot you."

Martin tutted under his breath. "Oh, I'm afraid you're not going to do any such thing," he said. "Because I have hostages." He smiled beatifically, and Malcolm felt his stomach lurch. This was not good. He pulled out his phone again and quickly redialled Edrisa's number. She didn't pick up.

He looked up at his Father. "So what's your next move, Dr Whitly. I'm sure you didn't come all this way just to check up on me."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, my boy," he said. "I really was worried about you. You should answer your phone."

"Cell phone jammer," Malcolm said succinctly.

"Yes, I noticed that when we landed," his father said. "Although you seem to have rectified that problem, which presumably means Gil is on his way here." Glee shone in his eyes and Malcolm knew that he had to make sure his father and Gil didn't cross paths today.

"So, what now?" he asked

"Now I put cuffs on him," Dani said firmly, stepping firmly.

"Dani, no!" Martin moved so quickly, Malcolm didn't quite know how it happened. All he knew was that his father had a blade at Dani's throat and her gun in his other hand. "Don't kill her."

"Well, I have to be honest, I don't think I can indulge you here, my boy," Martin drawled. "I mean, I like Dani, really I do, and we worked so well together before, but you know better than I how good a cop she is. I can't really let her go free now, can I?"

Malcolm really didn't like the way his eyes lingered on Dani's carotid artery. "Her handcuffs," he burst out. "You can cuff her."

"Bright, no."

But Malcolm ignored her. She may feel betrayed but at least she'd be alive. "You have her gun. If you cuff her to banister, she won't be a threat to you anymore. You can let her live." He took a breath and used his final gambit. "Please , Dad."

It worked, Malcolm watched as his father sighed dramatically. "Oh very well, but you and I are going to have a serious chat about your tendency to emotionally manipulate me. That's not a very healthy habit." Malcolm looked away as Dani glared at him. It was going to be a while before she forgave him for this, if ever. The cuffs clicked closed and Malcolm stepped back to admire his handiwork, pocketing the key.

"What now?" Malcolm asked hoarsely.

"Well, now we join the others in the drawing room," his father said cheerfully. "By the way, what happened to your suit? It's in an awful state."


The first thing Malcolm noticed when he entered the drawing room was that there were only three of his father's fellow inmates in the room: Tevin, Hector, and Brother Pete. "Where is Burt?" he asked.

"Oh, he's with the boat," Martin said. "We thought it best to not leave it unattended and he is the only one of us who can steer it."

Malcolm threw his father a sideways look. That was a lie, his father used to go boating a lot when he was younger. What was he up to? He watched the way his father twisted the scalpel in his hand. He had tucked Dani's gun away before they'd entered the room, which told Malcolm this alliance was even more tenuous than he'd originally thought. Hector's hand tightened on Edrisa's shoulder as she perched precariously on the edge of an armchair. "Are you all right, Edrisa?" he asked.

Edrisa summoned up a watery smile. "I'm okay," she said. "Although I can't say the same for Mr Alderson." Malcolm followed her glance and spotted a pair of expensive shoes sticking out from behind the couch.

"I'm afraid, William refused to take direction and I had to deal with him accordingly," Brother Pete said. He held a rapier in his hand.

"They killed Abigail," Beatrice said. She sounded broken. Malcolm looked around the room. There was no sign of Bobby. Had he managed to find a way to escape?

Tevin stood in front of the fireplace, tapping the handle of an axe into his palm as he studied the room in anticipation. There was a slight chance he might convince the others to leave the room without killing anyone else but Tevin wouldn't be satisfied with that. He had an axe and he was going to use it. He scanned the rest of the room. Beatrice and Alexander, Janet and Ophelia and Anne O'Kelly... "Where is Amelia?"

"Ah," his father said. "I'm afraid she may have met with a little accident.

"She disrespected me," Hector said. "I couldn't allow that."

Malcolm bit his tongue before he asked about the rest of the household staff. They had managed to stay out of sight since he'd arrived this morning, perhaps they'd be lucky enough to avoid detection if he didn't bring them up.

And then there was also the little matter of Bobby. Had he managed to give them the slip also? He turned to his father "So what's the plan?"

"The plan was we get the money from these motherfuckers's safe and then get the hell off this Island," Hector butted in. "But Martin insisted he find you."

"Well, a father's concern about his son's well being is only natural," Father Pete said.

"I just don't see why we always end up doing what he says," Hector said, his grip tightening on Edrisa's shoulder. "I only wanted to have some alone time with the lovely medical examiner here. It's been a long while, after all."

Malcolm looked away from the terror radiating on Edrisa's face. "I'm afraid, you may have to wait a little longer before you revisit your former tendencies, Hector." he said. "The police are on their way."

Father Pete stiffened. "How long do we have?"

"Not long," his father said. "Did you get the money?"

The defrocked Brother nodded. "I emptied the safe. That's a lot of petty cash for one family."

"Well, you know what they say. Everything is relative," his father said. "Time to go."

"I'm bringing the lady with us," Hector insisted, and Malcolm could feel his father's eyes rest on him.

"Well, if you insist," he said. "I'm sure Malcolm would appreciate having a friend come along with us." And by friend, he meant hostage. On the one hand, Malcom was relieved. A hostage was only useful if they were kept alive, but it also meant Edrisa was going to have a really bad day and he wasn't sure if she was able to handle that.

And he really didn't like the way Hector was looking at Edrisa.

His eyes slid to his father. He had a smile painted on but he didn't look very happy. Martin Whitly was, by his nature, a lone predator. Oh sure, he had in the past played the part of mentor, but he was too much of a narcissist to truly share the stage. He and Ainsley were the only exceptions to the rule, as he saw his children as natural extensions of himself. Not healthy, he knew, but still a very real relationship to Martin 's mind.

He hadn't thought he could feel more uneasy than he already did, but it seemed he was wrong. "Hostages will slow you down," he said softly. "You'd be better off just running for it."

"And leave you behind with this horrid family?" Martin asked. "What kind of father would I be if I did that?"

"The time for debate is over," Brother Pete said. "Let's go." He grabbed Beatrice Cambridge by the arm and pulled her from the couch. "Now we all have a hostage. "

"I don't," Tevin protested. "Why can't I have one too?"

"Because you've already killed your plaything and let that boy get away from you," Martin snapped. "Now move it along." But Tevin scowled as Brother Pete forced Beatrice towards the door, Hector on his heels with Edrisa.

"It's not fair," Tevin said again, raising his axe. "I want-"

The shot rang out, dropping Tevin like a stone and Malcolm turned to look at his father.

"What?" asked Martin. "You know how he gets. It's better this way."

Brother Pete shook his head before he looked at the rest of the Alderson family one final time. "If you try to follow us, that's what will happen to you."


Malcolm supposed it was a small mercy that they headed towards the servants entrance rather than the front door. He didn't want to think what Hector would do if he stumbled across Dani, helpless and chained up on the stairs. At least she still had her phone on her, Malcolm thought, she'll be able to get Gil up to speed before he even lands.

The small narrow door opened out onto the back of the property and it was only a couple of hundred yards to the treeline. Beatrice was still openly weeping and Malcolm wanted to tell her she should try to stop because he didn't like the way Hector was looking at her, but he was afraid it would only aggravate the situation further.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Well, as it happens this little island has a rather cute beach only a few hundred meters that way," Martin said. "We laid anchor a little offshore."

Of course they did, Malcolm thought, it would take a while for the NYPD to track down their anchor point, even from their air, and by that time they would be on their way. He glanced at Edrisa, she was grimly silent, which made Malcolm even more uneasy. Edrisa could be wildly unpredictable if you cornered her.

The trees thinned out and they stepped onto a narrow sandy strand. Just like Martin had said, the boat was anchored a few metres offshore and Malcolm spotted Burt's distinctive head as it popped up on the boats deck when they stepped out from under the trees.

"Oh look, there is Burt," Martin said, and promptly pulled out Dani's gun again and shot him through the head. His father was a surprisingly good shot, it was one of the few things they truly had in common.

"What the hell, Whitly," Hector burst out and then promptly fell back onto the sand as his brain exploded from the bullet's impact.

"What the hell are you doing?" Malcolm cried out.

"Grab your friend, Malcolm, we're leaving." his father said coolly, training his gun on Brother Pete.

"This isn't very sporting of you, Martin," Brother Pete said, as he dragged Beatrice in front of him and backed into the waves. "I thought we had a deal."

"Well, Brother Pete, I did warn you," he said. "You should have let me go when I said we should part ways in the city but, oh no, you knew better." His smile turned into a snarl as he pulled the trigger again and Beatrice slumped into the water. Malcolm ran for Edrisa as another bullet rang out, and Brother Pete fell onto his knees.

"But you said you were a terrible shot," he gasped. "That's cheating." He tumbled forward onto Beatrice's body and Edrisa pulled Malcolm behind him just as his father swerved the gun in his direction.

"Now, now, Malcolm," he said. "Please move out of the way."

"You're not having her," Malcolm said.

"Oh relax, boy, I'm not going to kill your friend. I just need a little safety net just in case the NYPD comes after us, and one of New York's finest Medical Examiners fits the bill, don't you think?"

"Aw, that's' so sweet," Edrisa said, from behind him, before her brain engaged. "Um, I mean, thanks but no thanks."

The low vibration of a helicopter blade filled the air, and Malcolm let out a laugh of relief. "There is no us , Dr Whitly You have only one decision. You either try and force me to go with you against my will and lose the precious moments you need to escape, or you run now and maintain your freedom. It's your choice."

"Damn it son," Martin spat out. "Why do you have to be so stubborn? You know you belong with me. This life will never be what you truly need."

"I beg to differ," Malcolm said. "Goodbye, Dr Whitly."

I was split second, but Malcolm could see the moment he chose to run. He leapt into the waves and Malcolm turned to watch him, careful to keep himself between his gun and Edrisa.

"We're not going to try and stop him?" Edrisa asked.

"He's got a gun and he's a good shot," Malcolm said. "Let the professionals track him down"

The boat engine started up, and Malcolm watched his father push Burt's body overboard before pulling up the anchor. He was already another few hundred meters out by the time the SWAT team poured onto the sand.

Gil came to a swift stop as he took in the body on the sand as well as the two bodies in the waves. Edrisa squeezed his arm, crowding into his back as the SWATS team's guns swung in their direction.

"Whoah," Malcolm said, pointing out at the receding boat. "The guy with the gun went that way."

"Lower your weapons," Gil called out. "They're with me." But from the expression on his face, he knew he had a stern talking to in his future. Something told him it would go for a lot longer than a few minutes.

He spotted Dani walk from the treeline, a grim expression on her face, JT was by her side, and there was almost an expression of pity on his face. Oh no, he was in trouble.

"This isn't gong to be pretty, is it?" he asked Gil.

"No, it isn't, kid."


Once again Malcolm had been sent home, and this time he had been told in no uncertain terms he was on probation. Although how you could put a consultant on probation, Malcolm really wasn't quite sure.

"Cheer up," Ainsley, kicking at his ankle under the table. "It won't be forever. Sooner or later they'll catch him and you'll be back at work, hunting killers again.

"It's been a week, Ainsley," Malcolm complained. "I think I might be going a little stir crazy." Not to mention the fact Edrisa was the only one talking to him at the moment, and even that was a little strained. His phone buzzed and Malcolm hit the decline button when no ID popped up.

"It's him, isn't it?" Ainsley asked.

"Probably," Malcolm admitted.

"Are you ever going to let him out of the dog house?"

"Ainsley, this isn't a little thing like forgetting my birthday," Malcolm said. "He killed six more people last week.

"That we know of," Ainsley said automatically.

"Exactly," Malcolm said, standing up. "Listen, I've got to go. Tell Mother I'm sorry I couldn't wait for her."

"Oh no, no, no, no," Ainsley protested. "You're not leaving me alone with Mother again. Malcolm-"

But it was too late, he had already shut the front door after him.

The air was crisp as he shrugged on his overcoat, and he could almost ignore the low buzzing of his phone in his pocket.

He'd pick up eventually, he knew he would. In the end, the heart was always weak.

But not today.

THE END.