Blackwood

The Witness

George sat on the wet grass next to Arthur, his clothes soaked through, his hands shaking from cold and adrenaline.

Arthur was breathing. Shallow, but steady. His eyes were closed. His face was pale, almost blue in the moonlight.

George pulled out his phone. His fingers were numb. He dialed 911.

"Providence Police. What's your emergency?"

"I need an ambulance. Watch Hill. The Blackwood estate. The boathouse. My brother's been shot."

"Sir, is the shooter still there?"

"No. He's gone. Just send help."

"An ambulance is on the way. Stay on the line."

George didn't stay on the line. He hung up and knelt next to Arthur.

Arthur's eyes fluttered open. "George?"

"Don't talk. Save your strength."

"Vincent?"

"Gone. He ran."

Arthur tried to sit up. George pushed him back down.

"Stay still. The ambulance is coming."

"I don't need an ambulance."

"You need an ambulance. You fell into the water. You almost drowned."

Arthur's eyes focused. "He shot at me."

"He missed. You fell."

"I fell." Arthur laughed weakly. "That's funny. I fell."

"It's not funny."

"It's a little funny."

George shook his head. "You're delirious."

"I'm always delirious. That's my secret." Arthur closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, George. For everything."

"Save your apologies."

"I mean it. I should have been better. I should have protected you. Protected Mom. Protected everyone."

"You did what you could."

"No. I did what was easy." Arthur's voice was fading. "Vincent was right about that. I always did what was easy."

"Arthur—"

"I love you, George. You know that, right?"

George's throat tightened. "I know."

"I'm going to sleep now."

"Arthur. Stay awake."

Arthur's eyes closed.

George pressed his hand to Arthur's chest. His heart was beating. Slow, but steady.

He stayed there, hand on his brother's chest, until the ambulance arrived.

---

The hospital was the same one where Arthur had been treated before.

George sat in the waiting room, wearing hospital scrubs—his wet clothes had been taken away. The fluorescent lights were harsh. The air smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee.

Sam arrived an hour later. She ran through the doors, her face pale.

"George! I got your message. What happened?"

"Vincent happened."

"Is Arthur okay?"

"He's in surgery. They're removing the bullet from his chest." George stood up. "He'll survive. They said he'll survive."

Sam hugged him. "Thank God."

"Vincent got away. He ran. He's still out there."

"And your father?"

George shook his head. "I don't know. No one knows."

Sam sat down next to him. "What do we do?"

"We wait. And then we find him."

---

Arthur's surgery took four hours.

When the doctor came out, George stood up.

"Mr. Blackwood?"

"Yes."

"Your brother is stable. We removed the bullet. He's going to make a full recovery."

George exhaled. "Can I see him?"

"He's in recovery. He won't be awake for another hour or two. But you can sit with him."

George walked to Arthur's room.

Arthur was lying in the bed, his face pale, his chest bandaged. Machines beeped around him. An IV dripped into his arm.

George pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down.

Arthur's eyes opened. Just barely.

"George."

"I'm here."

"Did I die?"

"No. You're going to be fine."

"Lucky me." Arthur smiled weakly. "I keep surviving. It's becoming a habit."

"Then stop getting shot."

"I'll try." Arthur closed his eyes. "Vincent. Where is he?"

"Gone. But we'll find him."

"Not before he finds us." Arthur's voice was weak. "He's not going to stop, George. He's been planning this for years. The money. The revenge. Everything. He's not going to stop until we're all dead."

"Then we stop him first."

"How?"

George didn't answer.

Arthur opened his eyes. "There's something I need to tell you."

"What?"

"About Dad. About where Vincent took him."

George leaned forward. "Where?"

"I don't know exactly. But I know who helped him." Arthur's voice dropped. "Maya."

"Maya is dead."

"No. Maya is alive. She survived the shooting at the cabin. She's been helping Vincent this whole time."

George's blood ran cold. "That's not possible. I saw her shot. I called the police."

"The police report said she was in critical condition. But Vincent got to her first. He moved her to a private hospital. She's been recovering there. And she's been feeding him information."

"Why would she help Vincent?"

"Because she blames me. For the shooting. For everything." Arthur's voice cracked. "She thinks I tried to kill her. She's been working with Vincent to destroy me."

George sat back. His mind was spinning.

Maya. The woman who'd helped him. The woman who'd protected his mother. The woman who'd been shot.

She was alive.

And she was working with Vincent.

"I need to find her," George said.

"She's at a hospital in Boston. I don't know which one. But Vincent has been visiting her."

George stood up. "I'm going to Boston."

"George—"

"I'm going. And I'm bringing Maya back."

---

The drive to Boston was long and dark.

George called Sam on the way. She insisted on coming. He told her to stay with Arthur. She argued. He won.

He drove alone, his mind churning.

Maya. The woman who'd been his ally. The woman who'd helped him escape the cabin. The woman who'd sacrificed herself.

Was it all a lie?

Had she been working with Vincent from the beginning?

George didn't know. But he was going to find out.

He arrived in Boston at 3:00 AM.

The city was quiet. The streets were empty. He drove to the first hospital on his list—Massachusetts General.

Maya wasn't there.

He drove to the second hospital—Beth Israel.

Maya wasn't there.

He drove to the third hospital—Brigham and Women's.

Maya was there.

She was in a private room on the fifth floor. The nurses said she was asleep. George said he was her brother. They let him in.

Maya was lying in the bed, connected to machines. Her face was pale. Her hair was gray and thin. But her eyes were open.

Watching him.

"George," she said. Her voice was weak. "I knew you'd come."

"Maya." He sat down next to her. "I need to ask you something."

"Vincent," she said. "You want to know about Vincent."

"Yes."

Maya closed her eyes. "I've been working with him for years. Since before the kidnapping. Since before everything."

George's heart sank. "Why?"

"Because he promised me something. Something I wanted more than anything."

"What?"

"He promised to protect Eleanor. To keep her safe. To make sure she was free."

George stared at her. "You wanted to protect my mother?"

"I loved her, George. I loved her for thirty years. And I couldn't protect her. I couldn't save her. But Vincent could." Maya's eyes opened. "He promised me. He promised me if I helped him, he would get Eleanor out of that room. Out of the mansion. Out of the nightmare."

"And you believed him?"

"I wanted to believe him. I needed to believe him." Maya's voice cracked. "I've spent my whole life protecting people. First in the Secret Service. Then for your father. But I couldn't protect the one person who mattered most."

George didn't know what to say.

Maya reached out and grabbed his hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

"Vincent is going to kill your father, George. He's going to kill him and blame it on Arthur. Then he's going to take over the company and destroy everything your father built."

"Where is Vincent?"

"I don't know. But I know where he's going. The old Blackwood property. Upstate New York. Where your father used to take you hunting."

George's heart pounded. "The hunting lodge."

"Yes. Vincent is taking Julian there tonight." Maya's eyes were wet. "He's going to make it look like a suicide."

"I won't let that happen."

"I know. That's why I'm telling you." Maya squeezed his hand. "Find him, George. Save your father. And save your family."

George stood up. "I will."

"George." Maya's voice was barely a whisper. "Be careful. Vincent has been planning this for a long time. He knows every move you're going to make."

"Then I'll make a move he doesn't expect."

He walked to the door.

"George." Maya called his name. "I'm sorry. For everything. For the lies. For the secrets. For not being better."

George turned. "You loved my mother. That's not something to be sorry for."

Maya smiled. A small, sad smile.

Then she closed her eyes.

George left.

---

The hunting lodge was four hours north.

George drove through the night. The roads were empty. The sky was dark. The moon was hidden behind clouds.

He called Sam on the way.

"I found her," George said. "Maya. She's alive."

"Where is she?"

"Hospital in Boston. She told me everything. Vincent is taking Dad to the hunting lodge. Upstate New York."

"The one we already searched?"

"The same one. But Maya said that's where they're going."

Sam was quiet for a moment. "It could be a trap."

"I know."

"Are you going anyway?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"No. Stay with Arthur. Keep him safe."

"George—"

"I'll call you when it's over."

He hung up.

The miles passed. The trees got thicker. The roads got smaller.

George drove faster.

---

The hunting lodge appeared at dawn.

Same dark windows. Same empty clearing. Same silence.

But this time, there was a car in the driveway.

Vincent's car.

George parked a quarter mile away and walked the rest of the way. His footsteps were silent on the fallen leaves.

He circled around to the back of the lodge. A light was on in the kitchen.

He peered through the window.

Vincent was there. Sitting at the table. A gun in his hand.

And across from him, tied to a chair, was Julian.

George's father looked older than he remembered. Beaten. Broken. But alive.

Vincent was talking. George couldn't hear the words. But he could see Vincent's face. Angry. Desperate. Unhinged.

George moved to the back door. It was unlocked.

He pushed it open.

Vincent spun around.

"George."

"Vincent."

"You shouldn't have come."

"I had to."

Vincent stood up. The gun was aimed at George's chest.

"You're going to make me kill you," Vincent said. "I don't want to kill you. But you're making me."

"Then don't. Put the gun down. Let Dad go. We can figure this out."

"There's nothing to figure out. This is how it ends. One way or another."

George stepped closer. "You don't have to do this. You can walk away. Start over. Somewhere else."

"Start over?" Vincent laughed. "I've been starting over my whole life. The forgotten son. The middle child. The one who never mattered. I'm done starting over."

"Then what do you want?"

Vincent's eyes were wild. "I want what I deserve. I want the company. The estate. The money. I want everything Dad promised Arthur and never gave to me."

"And you think killing him will get you that?"

"I think it's the only way."

George shook his head. "You're wrong. Killing Dad won't give you anything. It will just make you a murderer. And you'll be alone. You'll always be alone."

Vincent's hand shook. "I'm already alone."

"No. You're not. I'm here. I'm your brother. And I'm not going to leave you."

Vincent stared at him. His eyes were wet.

"George—"

"Put the gun down, Vincent. Please."

Vincent's hand dropped.

The gun hit the floor.

Vincent fell to his knees.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."

George walked to him and put his hand on Vincent's shoulder.

"It's okay," George said. "It's over now."

He picked up the gun and walked to Julian.

His father was crying. Silent tears streaming down his face.

"Dad," George said. "I'm going to untie you."

Julian nodded.

George untied the ropes. Julian fell forward into his arms.

"I'm sorry," Julian said. "I'm so sorry for everything."

"I know, Dad. I know."

---

The police arrived an hour later.

Detective Miller led the team. They took Vincent into custody. They took Julian to the hospital. They took George to the station.

George sat in the interview room, staring at the wall.

Miller walked in.

"Vincent is talking," Miller said. "He's giving us everything. The money. The murders. The connections."

"Murders?"

"Three people. Over the last five years. All of them connected to the company. All of them people who knew too much."

George closed his eyes. "And Cade?"

"Cade is next. We have enough evidence from the warehouse to take him down. Vincent's testimony will seal it."

"Good."

Miller sat down across from him. "You did good, Blackwood. Really good."

"I just saved my family."

"Exactly." Miller stood up. "Go home. Get some rest. We'll handle the rest."

George stood up.

He walked out of the station.

The sun was rising. The sky was pink and orange. Beautiful.

His family was broken. His brothers were in custody. His mother was free. His father was alive.

It wasn't a happy ending. But it was an ending.

And for George, that was enough.