Billy Donovan didn't like conflictual situations. She didn't like being in the centre of an angry talk, she didn't like to be around screaming matches. It makes you wonder how she befriended Kathryn in the first place.

...Or how soft Kat was for her.

In any case, Billy Donovan is scared out of her mind. In fact, seeing a middle-aged man with a head bashed in really knotted her stomach. She had tried to get herself as far away from the situation as she possibly could, really, she did. Not getting involved.

Patching Heyward up didn't qualify as 'far away'. Billy swallows thickly as she applies the bandage. She's terrified. She's been here before. She never thought she would again.

"Is this okay? I'm not hurting you, am I?" she asks, careful in her gestures.

Heyward winces. "You're doing just fine." It's a lie, but she seems so distraught that he doesn't have the heart to tell her.

"All done," she blows out in a breath.

His face is scrunched up as he says, "Thank you, darlin'."

Pope is on him in a matter of seconds, hovering in a way that makes Billy wonder who is the parent. "Pop, what happened?"

"Oh..." He shakes his head. "He came in just as I was about to lock up. Caught me by surprise. Once he had me down, he put his knee in my chest, and he asked me about that... that... that key from that... drawing you kids showed me. And in case you're wondering, I ain't tell him nothing."

Next to JJ, Kathryn has her arms crossed over her rustic floral twofer dress. The white shirt she wears under it stretches over her elbows, tense just like she is. "Never doubted you, Heyward," she says, but she's frowning. JJ carefully watches her. He noticed it too – she's sick to her stomach.

He hums. "Now, did you track it down?"

Pope seems dubious at his father's act that everything is fine, but still gets the key from his pocket. Billy isn't sure he ever set it down. He hands it to Heyward.

"We found it in Mee-maw's old apartment above the pharmacy just like you said it was."

He takes it, blinking at it with amazement. "Shit, boy, you should've gave this to me. I wouldn't have had to take a beating." Billy winces. "What's the big deal? It ain't worth anything. Why they want it so bad?"

"I don't know. First, we get those letters telling us that we need to go to Charleston. And then we meet that rich lady–"

"Her family owned slaves," Kathryn adds for context.

"And she wants us to give her a key that I didn't even know was in my family."

Kie shakes her head. "None of it makes any sense."

"Well don't y'all just sit here whining about it," Heyward chastises. "Figure it out!"

Kathryn smacks her lips together, leaning forward with what could very well be worry on her face. "Um, Heyward, last time we went on a treasure hunt, we ended up in SBI tents..."

"My brother got shot," Billy adds shyly.

"We're just gonna get that key to that lady, it's not worth–"

"No," Heyward tuts, interrupting his son. "Did I raise you to back down from a fight, boy?"

Pope stares at his dad, shaking his head softly. "No, sir."

His dad smiles. "Well, all right. Now, I... I didn't think about it before. I admit that. But now..." He gestures at the wound on his forehead. "Now? I'm interested. Well, did they say why they wanted it?"

Pope shakes his head, frowning. "Something about an old cross."

"The cross of Santo Domingo," Kathryn says. "She said it 'cause she was mad at us for not willingly getting kidnapped, it slipped, I think." JJ's eye twitches.

"I think it might be some kind of lost treasure."

Heyward inhales sharply. "You know who you should talk to? Your great-grandmother, Mee-maw."

Pope makes a face, considering it. At the same time, Kathryn straightens up. Worry becomes fear as her eyes settle on Billy, who's gut backflips. Now what?

"They sent me a letter too. She said– she said my dad knew. That I was a legacy." She looks back at Heyward, frowning, and when she speaks, her voice wavers. "If they went after you to get the key, they could've..."

They could've gone after Henry and Max.

Billy shoots up to her feet, the world spinning around her. "What?"

Heyward's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "Well, don't just stand there doing nothin'!"

Kathryn is already working on making sure her uncles are safe, hands flying around as she speaks. "Okay. Henry is at work, there's about a ninety percent chance he's fine. I think Max went out, but he likes the main roads and crowded places for some ungodly reason – they should be fine. Okay, John B, give me your keys." He throws them at her, and she catches it with ease, not lifting her eyes from Billy. "I'm going back to the Palace, check if everything's okay there. You stay here, try to get a hold of your brother, okay?"

Billy's eyes are watering quickly. She isn't good in a crisis. Kathryn always was – she's cold and calculated, and she puts it to use. She's focused, when she isn't freezing. Billy is all over the place, and she wants to cry. She really really wants to cry.

Kathryn knows who can calm her down. "Jay, stay with Billy."

JJ stares at her. "Uh? Nah – KD, I'm not good with this–"

"JJ!" She takes his hands to force him to focus. "JJ. You've done this for me countless times, okay? I need you to calm her down." She fishes for her phone in her pocket, and takes his out of his own. "I'm giving you Henry's number. You do not stop calling until he answers, you get me?"

He stares at her, registering all the information she's dumping on him. "Uh..."

"Love, we don't have time." She takes a deep breath, swallowing down anxiety and anger all at one. "Please."

His face is blank for a few seconds. He hates responsibility, she knows this. He carries too much of it at home already, but she trusts him. He knows how to calm people down. He squeezes her hands back. "Okay. Go."

Kathryn heaves out a sigh and, in the heat of the moment, stands on her tiptoes, cups his cheek, and kisses the corner of his mouth. "Thank you." JJ turns a bright shade of red. "Bee, let's go now."

"Yes, sir."

"And you don't stop calling! Both of you," she shouts after them, getting in the Twinkie.

As she leaves, Sarah putting a reassuring hand on Billy's shoulder and Kie kneeling down beside her, JJ blinks, face flushed.

Heyward stares at the scene. "Well don't just stand there and look like a fool!"

🐝

With Kathryn's driving skills, they are back at the Palace in a handful of minutes. John B almost crapped his pants, but at least they were quick.

"Henry is usually at work at this hour. It's a public space, they wouldn't..." she rambles before shaking her head, slamming the door. "I didn't want to say it in front of Bills, but I don't know what Max is doing, and I'm seriously worried."

"They'll be fine," he assures. "Have you seen them? They can defend themselves."

She opens the door to the house. "Yeah, well, if one of them got hurt again because of a stupid treasure hunt, I'm going to start burning things down."

The living room is untouched. As is the entirety of the ground floor, and the first floor. Upstairs, though, where the studio is...

Kathryn knows before opening the door that someone was in. She feels it in her gut. It doesn't soften the surprise when she creeps in, and sees the state of the place.

Furniture were moved, drawers thrown to the ground, papers floating, paint splattered where the buckets were thrown. She winces at a red stain on her rug. That's going to take forever to get off the fabric... She'll find the energy to complain about all the mess later.

She'll find the energy to feel the way her stomach drops. Her studio is her place. More so than her room. It's where she expresses herself – the rare moments that she does. It's where JJ almost kissed her, that one time. It's hers.

And someone else was in.

"Shit..." John B breathes out, watching where he steps. "How did they even get in?"

"The window," Kathryn says instantly. "I leave it open for JJ."

He doesn't say anything, simply closing his eyes and sighing. Should've guessed.

"Oh, no," she breathes out, kneeling behind the sofa.

The painting that was hidden under the drape is now laying on the ground, thrown as the easel got toppled over. She sighs loudly, putting it back up. At least there was no fresh paint.

John B frowns, staring at the painting. "Is that...?"

Before he can answer, her phone dings. Billy got through to Max – he's shopping for a countertop. In a public space. He should be fine – still, she told him to be careful. Which he thought was weird, but oh well.

"Max is fine," she tells him.

He heaves out a sigh of relief. "Good, good."

It dings again. It's JJ this time. Henry is annoyed, 'hes gonna fucking kill me.', but fine. She relays the information to John B.

"So they weren't here for my uncles," she says. "And that's the only room they searched..."

"Maybe they got scared when we arrived?"

She shakes her head. "No. No, we would've seen them leave." Then, her eyes widen and a lightbulb goes off in her mind. "The journal."

She takes the painting off of the easel, and turns it around. In the corner of the canva, there's a small tear she made. Inside is a key to a drawer.

"You hid a key in a painting of JJ–"

"Not right now, John B."

The drawer must already be on the floor, considering the state of the place. It makes no difference.

"See," she starts. "I got this cabinet from my dad's. And he was... paranoid." She picks up the drawer. There's a rattling sound. "And he passed it onto me. The cabinet and mental illness."

She jams the key in a small hole at the corner of the bottom of the drawer. Then, she uses it to rip it entirely off. It comes loose easily. The journal is sitting there, untouched.

"A secret stash," John B hums as she takes her dad's journal out. "How did they even know it'd be in this room?"

Kathryn keeps the journal close to her chest. "Yesterday, I got it out. I was looking for something about the key– I think they've been stalking us." A chill runs down her spine. Not right now. Oh, she's not going to sleep well ever again, is she? "But I've read my dad's journal, there's nothing about what the key opens. There was something about Heyward having it, but that's it. And that was cryptic, so."

She shows him the page, and he skims over the words. "It's weird. I always pictured your dad's journal filled with handwriting in the margin."

"His name was Edward James Darcy, not Indiana Jones."

"But was he named after the dog–"

"Please."

She moves to take the journal back, but it slips and falls on a wet patch of water, spilled when the cup where her paint brushes were soaking off fell.

"John B!"

"Why did you have glasses of water around?" he cries out, defensive.

"To wash the paint brushes– god."

She bends over to pick it up, quickly wiping the brownish colour with a rag that had fallen next to it.

As she wipes it, the water slides over the margins, patches revealing loops and dots. Writing. Hidden writing. Oh that bastard. She can't believe John B was right. That's a low blow.

She shares a look with John B, before she runs out the room and into Henry's office.

"Henry has a U.V. lamp. He uses it to prove to buyers that the place is clean." She gets it from a cupboard. "And I swear, if my dad had some invisible ink like in those stupid secret diaries from preschool..." She shakes her head, picturing Darcy twirling his hair and kicking his feet and writing 'Caroline' with a heart on the 'i'. Vomit.

"Wait, wait," John B stops as she goes to shine it on the journal. "Before we open another can of worms..."

She stares at him. What could be any more important than this? He just stares like he wants her to find the answer by herself, but does she look like Akinator? "Fucking say it, bee."

He grins. She hates it already. "You kissed JJ on the cheek."

Kathryn blinks up at him. Seriously? "Did not." She did. She did, and she remembers, and if she thinks about it, heat rises to her cheeks and bile to her throat. Bittersweet, really.

"Did so."

"Well, I..." She searches for her words, still thinking about the journal, still keeping any and all feelings at bay to make sure anger doesn't come out. "It was hectic, I thought my uncles had been mauled."

"So?"

"I don't know, I didn't think about it, it was instinct!"

He snorts. "It's a pretty grave you're digging for yourself."

"Not at all!"

"Oh, so you sought comfort and kissed JJ on the cheek out of instinct?" He puts a hand on his heart. "Aw."

"I'm reading the journal, right now," she grumbles. "Stop talking, or I'll put you back in jail."

He mimes the act of closing his mouth shut and throwing away the key, and she sheds some light on the writing. He leans forward to read over her shoulder. It's right under the line where he said that Heyward was the key.

"'Limbrey has helped me understand'– he really did work with that bitch, huh?" she lets out, frustrated, ready to slam the diary shut.

John B keeps it open. "We'll yell at his grave or something later, if it makes you feel better. Let's just keep reading before that, yeah?"

She glowers, but reads on. "'Limbrey has helped me understand how right I was for thinking that. Heyward and his boy, Pope, carry the legacy of'– the fuck?"

They stare at each other, and back at the book. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"How did my dad or Limbrey even know?"

"'Cause Heyward and Pope definitely don't!"

"Are we sure it means what it means?"

"I don't think there's any other way to interpret it, yeah."

She scoffs. "Pope's ancestor was Denmark Tanny – oh, we need to make t-shirts out of this." Her eyes widened. "We have to go. Right now. Now! Move!"

Kathryn takes the journal with her and they rush back to the Twinkie, as fast as they got here.

That's why Limbrey went after them. That's why she was so insistent about Denmark Tanny's story, acting as if they knew it, because they should've. Pope's a fucking Tanny! That's his legacy, he's at the centre of all this. All of this is about him.

Still, Kathryn feels an unshakable kind of weight that she must have inherited from her father, because, if he knew, all this time, all the time Pope ate at home, all the time he came over to study...

...Why didn't he say anything?

Author's Note: Kat initiated physical contact? Oh we are getting there getting there