They’d been packing up to strike out for a backyard investigation excursion when the door slammed. Briar, home from her bike ride with Sean bellowed, “Ave, your turn.” Avery turned with a start, dropping the gear in her hand, “Sorry, gotta go.” “Wait, Ave, you don’t want to investigate with me?” Finley asked crestfallen. “Sorry, Fin, I just can’t,” she called from halfway down the stairs to the basement. Then Briar dashed through the door. “Briar, would you like to go investigating with me?” “Naw,” she waved a dismissive hand and grabbed a water bottle on her way up to her room. I was wiping the counter down as Finley’s shoulders dropped, she looked at her investigating bag, “But who will go with me?…