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“You’ve been using it for two hours.” He tucks the clipboard under his arm. “And before you tell me this is a waste of time, remember that this is a critical element of my process. I absorb data best when I’m slightly inconvenienced and socially unmoored.”

"You have to understand what we’re dealing with here," I say, only half listening. “Trophy cases full of bowling plaques. An HVAC system from the Pleistocene Epoch. Yes, there will be cheese cubes, and there will be wine. There will also be two elderly women who will absolutely try to recruit us for the Stillwater Historical Reenactors, and I cannot stress enough that making eye contact will be interpreted as a binding commitment.”

I roll my neck until it cracks."Is this a team-building exercise, or is this a play to harass more of the townspeople for information?"

Baryn’s eyes flicker, barely a movement. “What if I told you it’s both?”

Simon looks up from his laptop, his attention sharpening. “Both what?”

“A date and an opportunity to ask questions.” Baryn shrugs. “Half the town is going to be in one room, drinking cheap wine and gossiping with people they’ve known since birth. I’d be negligent not to take advantage of that.”

Simon closes his laptop.

Tamsin straightens, considerably more interested. “Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

Baryn’s mouth flattens. “Because, as I said, neither of you are invited.”

Tamsin waves this away. “That was before there was an investigative component.”

He points at her. “There is not an investigative component for you.”

Tamsin is already reaching for her coat. “Of course there is.”

Beside her, Simon starts packing his laptop into his bag.

Baryn looks between them, disbelief settling across his face. “You both spent the last ten minutes explaining why you would rather die than attend this.”

Simon pauses halfway through winding up his charger. “Yes. But you buried the lede.”

Baryn folds his arms. “I didn’t bury it. I deliberately withheld it.”

Simon shoves the charger into his bag. “We’re going.”

Tamsin nudges Simon toward the door. “Come along. We’re interrogating pensioners.”

Baryn follows them with his eyes. “Talking to townspeople.”

Tamsin pulls on her coat. “While they’re drinking.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Casually.”

I reach for my own coat. “Interrogating pensioners.”

Baryn points at me. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

I slide one arm into my coat, then catch the front of his shirt with my free hand and tug him down just enough to meet me halfway. I rise onto my toes and press a quick kiss to the edge of his jaw before reaching blindly behind me for the other sleeve. “I’m going to paint a decomposing body. I have my own agenda.”

Serena: Hypothetical question. If a man invites you on a date and two other people invite themselves along, is it still technically a date?

Calla: BARYN ASKED YOU ON A DATE?!

Serena: Hypothetical, Calla.

Lila: What kind of date?

Serena: A community sip and paint.

Calla: oh my fucking god