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Every professional bone in Detective Sonya Fields' body screamed out to her that what she was doing was wrong.
"Fresh eyes see fresh clues," she muttered to herself, hoping maybe after the hundredth reiteration that she would believe it.
The likelihood of a judge throwing out any evidence that was found, the possibility of Sonya getting the sack for such a reckless decision; it was a big risk, and she'd chosen to take it.
"Weird…" Georgie whispered as she ran a finger over some interesting figurines.
"Don't touch that," Mike said, the anxious one of the group.
"It's okay, Mike," Sonya murmured. "Anything of actual significance would have already been bagged, tagged, and taken away for further examination."
"Then why are we here, Son?" he asked.
"To find what the professionals missed," Sonya replied, knowing fully well that she was one of those professionals.
"Like this," said Greggory. "I bet no one thought to check here."
He pushed on one of the bricks, a spot in the wall behind the stairs that looked just like every other brick. It slid inward and another brick, perpendicular to its location popped out of the wall and onto the floor.
"Greggory, you genius," said Sasha, giving him a quick hug.
"I guess visiting the house of horrors every now and then has its advantages," the boy said, trying to squirm his way free of the embrace.
"Passports!" said Mike. "So many passports."
"Put the brick back and don't touch anything else," said Sonya, sternly.
Even though everyone was wearing thin, latex gloves, the detective did not want to do any more to disrupt the scene. This was exactly the sort of thing she'd hoped to find. Now that, with the boy's help, she had what she needed it was time to leave.
"Are there any other secrets?" Mike asked, as he pushed the brick back into place and the wall returned to its normal state.
"Too many," Greggory said with a shudder. "No more hidden compartments though, I'm sorry to say… Or none that I know of any way…"
"I could have found that," Mike grumbled.
"Yeah, us too, dad, if we had enough time," added Georgie.
"True," said Sonya. "But now our time is up and the winner is Greggory."
"Hometown advantage," said Mike. "And a find like that deserves fish and chips."
"Yay!" said the girls.
"Can we get some squid rings too?" begged Sasha.
"Seafood from the ocean, of course we can," laughed Mike.
"Back on the trail again," said Sonya, the relief obvious in her tone.

"No… No… No, Philip," Lisa begged, her voice a mere whisper.
The man she was sharing the cramped semi-trailer cockpit with had found a screwdriver. Lisa knew exactly what Philip liked doing with a tool, any tool, but his mastery of the screwdriver was frightening.
"He is not my type," Philip murmured with a thin-lipped grin, indicating the truck driver. "You on the other hand…"
"I don't fit your profile either," said Lisa, but not for a moment did she think that made her safe.
"No, that's true," lamented Joe and Jack's other brother. "But this will come in handy for when we reach our destination."
"I'm going to be sick," Lisa suggested.
"Don't you dare," warned Philip.
"Everything going ok back there?" Anton the truckie asked.
"Yeah… As good as can be…" Philip suggested.
"How far off is Alice?" Lisa asked. "I've got a call of nature coming."
"Don't worry, love," said Anton. "That cupboard looking thing is a dunny."
"All the creature comforts, this rig," said Philip, pretending to be impressed.
Anton bought it.
"You a fan of trucks?"
"I've driven a couple, nothing as swish as this," Philip continued to lie.
Lisa took that as the sign she could slip away. The onboard toilet was a tight squeeze, but better than sitting so close to Philip and his screwdriver.
"Come on, come on," Lisa urged.
She wasn't sure if she was hoping to get on top of the squirming in her stomach, or if she was hoping her whirring mind could come up with an escape plan. As the gentle sound of release and relief tinkled into the prosocline bowl, Lisa was suddenly thrown against the flimsy wall of the tiny space. The truck's breaks had been engaged, and the rig had come to a sudden, shuddering stop. Pulling her pants up hurriedly, Lisa exited without flushing.
"Philip, what have you done?" she asked, certain she did not want to know the answer.
"Time to go, Lisa," Philip said, a bloodied hand grabbing Lisa's shirt sleeve.
"Why, Philip, why?" she asked as he dragged her past the slumped and broken figure of Anton.
The truckie had been stabbed in the neck, chest, and through the ear, with any of the trio of wounds sufficient to kill him.
"He barracked for the wrong footy team," Philip explained, probably another lie.
"Where the hell are we going?" Lisa asked. "Where are you planning on taking me?"
"Home, Lisa, I wanna go home."
"Home is too far away," said Lisa. "We can't get there on our own."
"You are going to get us a car," said Philip.
He no longer had the screwdriver. It was still embedded in Anton's neck. Lisa knew that she would share a similar fate to the truckie if she refused to do what Philip asked.
"Ok then, Philip, do we follow the road?" she asked. "What's the great plan?"
"I don't know… I don't know…" Philip moaned. "I can't go to jail."
Lisa was pretty sure jail or worse was going to be in Philip's future. She just hoped it was not going to be her future too.
"Let's just get to Alice and see what happens after that," she said, trying to reassure herself and the monster she was with.
"Yeah… Yeah… We get to Alice and it will all work out," Philip agreed.
If we get to Alice I can try and make my escape, Lisa thought to herself.
She knew if she was going to survive she needed to get as far away as possible from all three brothers. Jack, Joe, and Philip, each in their own way, was bad news.

The storm raged on as the hatchback hurtled its way down the mountainside. Charlie clung on for dear life, unsure of if this was going to be her end or not. A helicopter' spotlight shining down erratically lit up the brush and trees as Krystoff tried to keep the car upright.
"This was a stupid idea," Joe growled. "If you kill me, I'll haunt you…"
"Of course, Joe, I understand," said Krystoff. "Trust me… This way is a short cut."
Narrowly, the tiny car threaded the gap between a truck, two cars, and a bunch of motorcycles. Charlie was sure that three of the motorcyclists were wearing helmets under raincoats. The rest seemed both soaked and completely unsafe. One of the kids sitting between mom and dad gave her a wave.
"How much longer?" the girl asked.
"Before we die?" grumbled Joe. "Not long I'd say."
"See you in hell, then," Charlie whispered.
"What did you just say," the man growled, suddenly squeezing her knee, his grip too tight.
"We're here," said Krystoff, breaking the tension.
"Where is here?" asked Joe, just before Charlie could ask the same.
"My sister's shop," said Krystoff.
"And why the hell did you bring us here?" asked Joe.
"She has a cellar in the back office," Krystoff explained. "It is solid… I know… I built it for her myself…"
"Joe, seriously, anything is better than being in this car," Charlie suggested.
"Bloody hell, Krystoff," Joe sighed, after a moment. "This is your dumbest idea yet."
"I know, Joe," Krystoff laughed. "Now come on in and meet the family."