On solid ground pt 2

Chapt 15 pt 2

Mar 04, 2026

Wednesday evening—Ravina Springs

The front door shut with a weighty thud. It carried further than the scraping latch. Footsteps echoed down the long center hallway, slow and deliberate.

Win and Brennan exchanged a glance, both thinking back to Brian DeLucca’s parting threat at the diner.

Before either could move, Billy Heath appeared in the doorway, shrugging out of his jacket as he walked. He took in the suddenly silent party with curiosity. “Hi?”

Win relaxed back in his chair, a small tilt of his shoulders. “Do you always let yourself in to other people’s homes, Officer?”

“Only when invited. And I knocked. Twice. Not my fault you live in a mausoleum.” Billy pointed vaguely toward the front of the house. “Your bell’s dead.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s comatose, dude.”

Kate laughed into her wine glass.

Billy looked around the room. “Bren, Merritt, Ms. Lucy….” He got a scowl in return. “And….Ms. Kate, nice to see you again.”

“Hey, honey. Nice to see you.”

Brennan glanced at Merritt. She hadn’t moved since Billy walked in.

Billy turned to Fletcher with a questioning look.

“Fletcher, this is Billy Heath,” Win drawled. “He’s in your line of work. But he’s more of an annoyance, especially the last few days.”

Fletcher stood to meet the other man. “Nice to meet you.” They sized each other up the way men who work around rules and consequences do: fast, efficient.

“Fletcher is visiting Win from Ireland,” Brennan added.

Billy smiled. “Yeah, I caught the accent.”

Brennan reached for the breadboard and nudged it toward him.

He looked at the table. “So, did y’all leave me anything else to eat?” He stepped forward and snagged a piece of bread.

Win watched him chew. “You come this late, you get scraps.”

Billy grabbed a clean plate and helped himself from what remained. “I’ve done fine with your leftovers.” His gaze slid toward the empty chair between Merritt and Win.

Merritt’s shoulders drew tight, her spine stiffening as if she were trying to make herself very small without moving.

Billy dragged the chair out, then glanced Win’s way and carried it down next to Fletcher and Brennan instead, balancing the plate on his crossed knee.

Kate coughed to hide her laugh.

“So,” Fletcher said, “you city or county?”

“City.”

Fletcher nodded. “Better budget?”

“Much. But the paperwork….”

Fletcher made a face that said enough.

Brennan glanced between them. “If you two start swapping stories we’ll be here all night.”

Kate scowled. “What? Now you speak without prompting? To him?”

Both men gave her a distracted smile, then fell back into their low exchange.

At the head of the table Win began stacking plates. Lucy reached to help.

“No,” Win said. “You’re a guest. Leave it.”

“…and I have hands,” she responded.

He brushed her hand aside. “Sit. Enjoy. Talk.”

Lucy turned back toward Merritt. “So what are you digging up for Winston these days?”

Merritt startled, as if the question had come from far away. “Mostly old records about Klan activities and labor disputes from the 1930s,” she said. “For his upcoming novel set in the Sandhills.”

Lucy tilted her head. “Sounds fascinating. Is that all online, or do you have to visit the archives?”

Merritt’s eyes flicked briefly toward Billy. He was listening to Fletcher, tearing another piece of bread.

Brennan glanced toward Merritt. The girl had stopped blinking.

“Some archives,” Merritt said. “But…a lot’s online now.”

Lucy brightened. “Is it easier than the old microfilm machines?”

“Sometimes.” Her voice had gone quieter.

Lucy continued cheerfully, unaware of the girl’s growing panic. “Do you search databases? Old newspapers?”

Merritt nodded once. She wasn’t looking at anyone now, her gaze fixed somewhere near the edge of the table. “That, and… community boards sometimes. Historical groups.”

Billy wiped his fingers on his napkin. “People forget those things are public,” he said mildly. It wasn’t clear whether he was speaking to Fletcher or to the room. “Half the time folks put more information out there than they realize.”

Brennan’s gaze shifted automatically to Merritt. The girl’s shoulders were tight as a tripwire.

Billy followed her gaze. He watched Merritt for a second, taking in the way she’d drawn in on herself. His expression shifted, something like concern, before he looked away again. Poor kid, he thought. Too many people in the room.

Merritt saw his gaze pause on her. She froze.

Brennan saw that too.

Fletcher chuckled. “Same in my line of work.”

Billy turned back to him and nodded. “World’s full of little trails.”

Lucy leaned toward Merritt with interest. “That must make research easier.”

“Sometimes,” Billy added.

His gaze passed over Brennan before settling back on Fletcher.

“Sometimes it just means you find things you weren’t looking for.”

Merritt’s hands were knotted together in her lap now.

Lucy reached out and touched her shoulder gently. “Honey, you’re pale.”

Merritt pushed her chair back. The scrape was loud in the room.

Everyone looked at her.

“I—I think I left my phone in my car.”

“Merritt—” Brennan said.

But Merritt was already moving. She pushed through the doorway into the hall, moving too fast.

A moment later something crashed, a sharp clatter of wood and glass. They heard a small, startled cry. The front door banged open and slammed shut hard enough to rattle the frame.

Silence filled the dining room.

Win strode back into the dining room, looking slowly around the table. “What the hell is going on?”

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