Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPZZSZ4GF2N2TMJPCVDZYK

The bell above the door chimed as a gust of autumn wind swept in, carrying the scent of cinnamon and damp leaves. "Did you hear about old Mr. Holloway’s prize-winning pumpkin going missing? Right off his porch last night!" "Oh, I heard. Poor man—he’s been bragging about that thing for weeks. Said it was big enough to feed the whole town at the harvest festival." "Well, someone must’ve been hungry—or jealous. You don’t just *accidentally* walk off with a two-hundred-pound pumpkin." "Unless you’re a very determined raccoon." "Raccoons don’t drive pickup trucks. And that’s what the sheriff said the tire tracks looked like—big, deep grooves in the mud." "Hmm. You think it’s connected to the other thefts? First the garden gnomes, then the scarecrows, now this?" "Could be. Though I can’t imagine what a pumpkin thief and a gnome-napper have in common." "Maybe they’re just bored. Small-town crime isn’t exactly high-stakes." "Or maybe they’re building something. A… pumpkin-gnome-scarecrow army." "Now *that’s* a motive I can get behind." A pause. "You want another coffee? I think I need one after that mental image."