Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKAYWT393Y1AQW31YHPXHV7

The bell over the bakery door gave a tired jingle as the morning rush thinned. Warm air carried the scent of cinnamon and yeast, and the glass case gleamed with sugared crullers and jam-filled doughnuts. “Tell me you didn’t start the sourdough at three a.m. again.” “Someone has to. The starter doesn’t care about my beauty sleep.” A tray clinked onto the counter. Behind it, a blueberry muffin sat lopsided, its top caved in like a secret. “That one looks… sad.” “That one is evidence.” “Evidence of what? Your war against baking powder?” “Evidence that Nora Finch was here before dawn.” “Nora? The woman who can’t boil water without calling it ‘artisan’?” “Exactly. She bought two muffins and asked if I’d seen Mr. Dalrymple.” “The birdwatcher? He hasn’t been in for his rye in days.” A pause, filled by the soft hiss of the espresso machine. “There’s flour on the doorknob. Not mine.” “Flour gets everywhere.” “Not the blue kind.” “Blue flour?” “Cornflower dust. Used on those fancy cake boxes from the craft store.” Another pause. Outside, a police cruiser rolled past too slowly. “You think Nora’s involved in… whatever happened by the river?” “I think she’s involved in my missing cake knife.” “That’s not murder.” “It’s how murder starts in this town. First a knife goes missing, then someone stops buying rye.”