Chapter 5: Blackwood Cottage
Chapter 5: Blackwood Cottage
Rain poured over the Carter estate as Ethan hurried across the grounds.
Lightning flashed above the towering oak trees, briefly illuminating the narrow stone path leading to Blackwood Cottage.
He hadn't been there in nearly fifteen years.
As a child, he had loved the little guesthouse hidden at the edge of the property. His father would often spend quiet evenings there reading, writing, or working on personal projects.
Then, without explanation, the cottage had been locked.
After his father's death, no one had mentioned it again.
Tonight, Ethan intended to find out why.
The old iron gate groaned as he pushed it open.
The cottage looked untouched by time.
Its windows were covered with dust.
Vines climbed across the brick walls.
The porch light had long since burned out.
Ethan pulled the old brass key from the leather journal.
His father had taped it inside the back cover.
The lock resisted at first.
Then—
Click.
The door slowly creaked open.
A stale smell filled the air.
Dust floated through the beam of his flashlight.
Furniture sat exactly where it had been years ago.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
Yet something felt wrong.
Someone had been there recently.
A faint trail of muddy footprints stretched across the wooden floor.
Fresh.
Not his.
Miles away...
Detective Brooks received another call from the forensic garage.
"We've completed the examination."
"What did you find?"
"The brake line wasn't the only thing tampered with."
Brooks grabbed his notebook.
"Go on."
"There were fingerprints inside the engine compartment."
"Usable?"
"Very clear."
"Were they Ava's?"
"No."
"Ethan's?"
"No."
Brooks frowned.
"Run them."
"We already did."
"And?"
The technician hesitated.
"They belong to someone who worked for the Carter family."
Brooks waited.
"Victor Hale."
The name sounded familiar.
"Head of security."
"Retired three months after Ava's accident."
Brooks immediately stood.
"Find him."
Back at the hospital...
Dr. Harper entered Ava's room carrying another folder.
"I have something you should see."
Ava looked up.
"What is it?"
"Your rehabilitation records."
Ethan wasn't there.
He had gone back to the estate.
Ava carefully opened the folder.
Something immediately caught her attention.
Several therapy sessions had been marked as "Patient Refused Treatment."
She frowned.
"I never refused."
The doctor nodded.
"I know."
"We checked the hospital attendance logs."
"You were never even scheduled on those dates."
Ava looked confused.
"Then who wrote this?"
Dr. Harper pointed to the signatures.
"They're forged."
Ava stared at the papers in disbelief.
Someone hadn't just drugged her.
Someone had altered her medical history.
Making it appear she refused to recover.
Meanwhile...
Inside Blackwood Cottage...
Ethan followed the muddy footprints into his father's study.
Bookshelves lined every wall.
Family photographs covered the fireplace.
Everything looked ordinary.
Until he noticed one picture hanging slightly crooked.
He removed it from the wall.
Behind it was a small steel safe.
His father's journal had mentioned nothing about it.
The safe required a six-digit code.
Ethan thought for a moment.
Then entered his parents' wedding anniversary.
Nothing.
His father's birthday.
Nothing.
He sighed.
Then remembered something.
As a child...
His father had always called Ethan's birth "the happiest day of my life."
He entered his own birthday.
The safe clicked open.
Inside were three items.
A stack of sealed envelopes.
A USB flash drive.
And a small velvet jewelry box.
Ethan opened the box.
Inside rested an emerald ring.
His breath caught.
It looked identical to the one Margaret always wore.
But this one was slightly different.
Engraved inside the band were two initials.
R.C.
Not Margaret Carter.
Richard Carter.
His father's ring.
Confused, Ethan examined it more closely.
Then he noticed something.
A tiny scratch across one corner of the emerald.
His mother's ring...
Didn't have that scratch.
His father had owned an identical ring.
Just then—
A floorboard creaked behind him.
Ethan spun around.
No one.
Only darkness.
He stepped into the hallway.
"Who's there?"
Silence.
Then...
The back door slammed shut.
He ran outside.
A shadow disappeared into the woods.
"Stop!"
The figure never looked back.
Within seconds, they vanished into the rain.
Ethan immediately called Detective Brooks.
"I think someone was inside Blackwood Cottage."
"What happened?"
"They ran before I could see their face."
"Did they take anything?"
Ethan looked around.
The safe remained open.
Everything appeared untouched.
"I don't think so."
"Stay there," Brooks said.
"I'm on my way."
Forty minutes later...
Crime scene investigators carefully searched the cottage.
One technician called Brooks over.
"We found something."
A muddy boot print.
Fresh.
Another investigator held up a small object recovered from beneath the bookshelf.
A disposable lighter.
Brooks examined it.
There was a faded company logo printed on one side.
Carter Estate Security.
The detective looked toward Ethan.
"Victor Hale."
Ethan nodded.
"The former head of security."
Brooks carefully placed the lighter into an evidence bag.
"If he came here tonight..."
"He was looking for the same thing you were."
The technicians continued processing the cottage.
Then one of them noticed something unusual.
"The fireplace."
Brooks walked over.
"What about it?"
"The bricks are hollow."
Within minutes, they removed several loose stones.
Behind them was a hidden compartment.
Inside lay another leather journal.
Unlike Richard Carter's diary...
This one belonged to someone else.
The name embossed on the cover made Ethan's blood run cold.
Margaret Carter.
Brooks carefully opened the first page.
The handwriting was elegant.
Precise.
Cold.
He read the opening sentence aloud.
"Power is never given. It is taken."
He turned another page.
"Richard has started asking questions."
Another.
"Ethan trusts Ava too much."
Then...
Near the center of the journal...
A dated entry stopped everyone.
It had been written the day before Ava's crash.
"Victor says the brakes can be altered without immediate detection."
The room fell silent.
Brooks slowly looked up.
"Get a warrant."
Ethan frowned.
"For Victor?"
Brooks shook his head.
"For both of them."
At that very moment, across town, Victor Hale was throwing clothes into a suitcase.
His passport lay on the kitchen table.
A plane ticket sat beside it.
Departure:
6:10 a.m.
Destination:
Buenos Aires.
He believed he still had time to disappear.
He had no idea that detectives were already on their way.
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And he certainly didn't know...
That Margaret's own journal had just made him the most important witness in an attempted murder investigation.
