Chapter 9: The Last Page
Victor was alive.
The bullet had grazed his shoulder, leaving him bleeding heavily but conscious. Damon pressed a folded handkerchief against the wound while Evelyn called for an ambulance.
“Stay with me,” Damon ordered.
Victor grimaced.
“I'm trying, sir.””
“Who shot you?””
“I didn't see his face.””
“Was it Marcus?””
Victor shook his head.
“I saw someone coming up the stairs. I thought it was one of the housekeepers.””
Calvin stood in the doorway, staring at the empty corridor.
“Where did they go?””
Victor swallowed.
“The east exit. Someone had already opened it.””
Damon looked at his father.
“Your code.””
Calvin nodded grimly.
“Someone has it.””
“Someone who knows this house, knows the security system, and knows exactly where the ledger was hidden.””
Evelyn rose slowly.
“And someone who knew Marcus would be here.””
Damon turned toward the open desk.
The leather folder had contained the original financial records, Eleanor's video, and the evidence connecting Arthur's accounts to the present-day transfers.
Now all of it was gone.
He felt the old anger returning.
He could almost see himself striking his father again, driven by certainty that had been manufactured by someone who knew precisely where to place the knife.
He clenched his fists.
Then he forced them open.
“No more guessing,” he said.
“We're going to the carriage house.””
Calvin shook his head.
“Absolutely not.””
“Someone just shot Victor to steal the ledger. Whoever did it is heading for the same place that message pointed us toward.””
“That's exactly why we shouldn't go.””
“And let them destroy the evidence?””
Calvin's voice cracked.
“I've already lost your mother. I'm not losing you too.””
Damon looked at him.
For the first time, he heard the fear beneath his father's stubbornness.
“I know you lied to me,” Damon said.
“I know you hid things that should never have been hidden. But I'm not going to let another person die because this family is too afraid to speak.””
Calvin's eyes filled.
“You sound like Eleanor.””
Damon looked away.
Then he took his phone and called the police again, giving them the location of the carriage house and reporting the shooting.
He did not intend to go alone.
He did not intend to go unarmed.
And he did not intend to trust anyone simply because they shared his name.
Twenty minutes later, Damon, Calvin, Evelyn, and Serena stood outside the old carriage house.
Police officers were on their way, but the estate's eastern road had been blocked by a fallen tree. The dispatcher had instructed them to wait.
Damon had agreed to wait for ten minutes.
That was all.
The carriage house stood at the edge of the property, half-hidden behind overgrown hedges. Rain tapped against its roof, and the wind carried the smell of wet earth and rotting leaves.
The doors were locked.
Calvin removed a key from his pocket.
Damon caught his hand.
“How long have you had that?””
“Since the day we moved the furniture here.””
“And you never thought to check the mirror?””
“I did. Years ago. It was an ordinary mirror.””
Evelyn shook her head.
“Not if Eleanor knew how to hide something inside it.””
Calvin unlocked the door.
The hinges groaned.
Inside, old furniture stood beneath white sheets. Dust coated the floor, and a single window allowed a thin shaft of gray light to fall across the room.
At the far end stood a tall mirror with an ornate wooden frame.
Damon approached it slowly.
The glass was cloudy with age.
In the lower-left corner, someone had scratched a small crescent.
Serena stopped beside him.
“That's the mark from the photograph.””
Evelyn touched the frame.
“Your aunt made this herself. She used to restore antique furniture when we were young.””
Damon examined the mirror.
“Where would she hide a page?””
Calvin ran his fingers along the wooden edge.
“Behind the backing, perhaps.””
They lifted the mirror carefully and laid it against a padded table. Calvin removed four small screws from the rear panel.
The wood came loose.
Inside was a narrow compartment.
It was empty.
Serena let out a broken laugh.
“No.””
Damon looked inside.
A thin layer of dust covered the bottom, but a clean rectangular outline suggested something had once rested there.
Someone had taken it.
Evelyn leaned against the table.
“We're too late.””
Calvin stared at the empty compartment.
“Not necessarily.””
He examined the interior more closely, then pressed his thumb against a small notch in the wood.
A hidden panel slid sideways.
Behind it lay a folded sheet of paper sealed in plastic.
Damon's breath caught.
Calvin carefully removed it.
The page was covered in names, dates, and account numbers. Near the bottom was a list of transfers made during the six months after Eleanor's death.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Robert Blackwood.
Another appeared beside it.
Calvin Blackwood.
Damon stared at his father's name.
“You told me you spent twenty-three years trying to repair the damage.””
“I did.””
“Then why is your name here?””
Calvin's hands trembled.
“I don't know.””
Damon looked at the figures.
The transfers were small at first, then larger. They continued for years before stopping abruptly.
At the bottom of the page was a handwritten note.
The money was not the purpose. The money was the payment.
Evelyn covered her mouth.
Damon read the line again.
“What does that mean?””
Calvin looked as though he might be sick.
“Robert wasn't simply investigating Arthur's accounts.””
He took a shaky breath.
“He was being paid to keep the investigation quiet.””
Damon stared at him.
“By whom?””
Calvin shook his head.
“I don't know.””
“Your brother was receiving money from the same accounts as the man you believe murdered your wife, and you never knew?””
“I suspected Robert had been hiding something. I didn't know he was involved in the transfers.””
Evelyn pointed toward the final entry.
“Look at the date.””
Damon leaned closer.
The final transfer had been made six months earlier.
The same month Robert had died.
Beside the transfer was a reference number and a handwritten instruction:
*FINAL PAYMENT — CLOSE THE FILE.*
Serena took a step backward.
“That's when Marcus contacted me.””
Damon turned toward her.
“Why would he contact you at the same time Robert died?””
“Because he wanted the ledger.””
“Or because he knew Robert was dead and needed someone else to find it.””
Serena shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Damon studied her.
She looked exhausted, frightened, and ashamed. But he had learned that fear could be real even when the story built around it was false.
He needed evidence.
Not tears.
Not promises.
Evidence.
Evelyn lifted the plastic sleeve and examined the page's reverse side.
“There is writing on the back.””
Calvin turned it over.
A single sentence had been written in faded ink.
*The final witness is still alive.*
Beneath it was an address.
Damon recognized the street immediately.
It was the address of the nursing home where Robert Blackwood had supposedly spent his final months.
He looked at Calvin.
“You said he died six months ago.””
“He did.””
“Did you see his body?””
Calvin's face went blank.
“No.””
“Did you attend the funeral?””
“Yes.””
“Did you see the body there?””
Calvin didn't answer.
Damon felt his stomach tighten.
“Dad?””
“The casket was closed.””
Evelyn stepped back from the table.
“Then we don't know that Robert is dead.””
A noise came from outside.
Footsteps on gravel.
Damon turned toward the door.
A figure stood beyond the window, partially concealed by the rain.
Marcus Vale.
He was holding the leather folder.
Damon rushed to the door, but Marcus had already moved toward the east side of the building.
“Marcus!””
The man stopped beneath the trees.
For a moment, they stared at each other through the rain.
Then Marcus lifted the folder.
“You found the page.””
Damon stepped outside.
“Who killed Eleanor?””
Marcus looked toward Calvin.
“Ask him what he did after he found the car.””
Calvin appeared in the doorway.
“Marcus, don't.””
“Tell him!””
Calvin's voice broke.
“I tried to save her.””
Damon stopped moving.
“What?””
Calvin looked at his son, tears running down his face.
“I found her on the roadside. She was alive when I reached her. I called for help, but she made me promise not to tell anyone who had been with her.””
Damon's world tilted.
“You found her before the police?””
“Yes.””
“And you let me believe she died instantly?””
Calvin lowered his head.
“She died in my arms.””
Damon couldn't breathe.
For twenty-three years, he had imagined his mother dying alone in a wrecked car, with strangers finding her too late to save her.
Now he learned that his father had held her while she died—and had hidden the truth.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because she made me promise.””
“Why?””
Calvin looked toward Marcus.
“Because she told me that if I revealed the name of the person who had been with her, that person would kill you.””
Marcus shook his head.
“That's not what she said.””
Calvin stared at him.
“What?””
Marcus took one step closer.
“She told you to protect Damon. She never told you to protect me.””
Damon turned toward Marcus.
“You were with her?””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“I was trying to get her away from Arthur's men.””
“Then why did she tell my father not to reveal your name?””
“Because she knew I was the only person who could lead the police to the people responsible.””
“Yet you disappeared.””
“Because someone framed me for her murder.””
Marcus opened the leather folder and pulled out a photograph.
It showed Robert Blackwood standing outside a hospital, alive and healthy, dated three weeks earlier.
Damon stared at it.
“Where did you get that?””
“From the person who has been moving the money.””
Marcus's gaze shifted to Serena.
“And that person has been using your wife's name.””
Serena went rigid.
“That isn't true.””
Marcus held up another document.
A transfer authorization.
Damon's signature.
Serena's access card number.
And a third name listed as the final recipient.
Damon read it once.
Then again.
His father took a step backward.
Evelyn began to cry.
Because the name at the bottom belonged to the one person Damon had trusted more than anyone else in his life.
*Robert Blackwood.*
The uncle who had supposedly died six months earlier.
The uncle who had investigated Arthur's crimes.
The uncle who had been paid to close the file.
And the uncle whose supposed death had started the entire chain of lies.
Damon looked at Marcus.
“Where is he?””
Marcus folded the document.
“Alive.””
“Where?””
Marcus looked toward the mansion.
“Inside your house.””
A sudden flash lit the distant windows.
Then the entire estate went dark.
And from somewhere in the darkness came a woman's scream.
Serena's scream.
Damon ran toward the house.
But as he reached the garden gate, his phone vibrated with a message from an unknown number.
*If you want Serena alive, bring the final page to the study.*
May you like
A second message appeared.
*Come alone. Your father already knows what happens if you refuse.*
