Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM61HRB5VD8KFDAXXWPSVJE

The morning bell chimed as the door swung open, letting in a swirl of autumn air. “You’re here early. The sourdough’s still singing in the oven.” “I’m not here for the bread, though it smells divine. I need your brain, Agnes.” “Flattery won’t get you a free cinnamon bun. My brain’s a bit undercooked before seven.” “It’s about the Historical Society fiasco. Everyone thinks Mayor Higgins misplaced the original town charter.” “Because he did. He admitted it after the lemon squares ran out.” “But what if he didn’t? What if someone *wanted* it to go missing before the vote on the new library site? The charter has the original land grant specifics.” The oven timer buzzed sharply. A warm, yeasty perfume filled the space. “That’s a very specific conspiracy for a Tuesday. You think someone in the Society is involved?” “I think Edna Burke’s sudden passion for local history, coinciding with her plans to sell that vacant lot to the developers, is… convenient.” “Well now. That *does* add a different flavor. Pass me that butter knife, would you? And tell me everything, from the beginning. Edna always did have a fondness for my blackberry thumbprint cookies. She comes in every Thursday, like clockwork.”