Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7JM2DEDMETWHRM1WWA1YA

The bell above the bakery door tinkled softly as morning light filtered through lace curtains, illuminating trays of golden scones and cinnamon rolls steaming on the counter. Flour dusted the wooden surfaces, and the air hummed with the scent of vanilla and yeast. "Psst, did you hear about poor Mr. Hargrove? Found stiff as a board in his antique shop last night." A rolling pin paused mid-roll, dough yielding under pressure. "Heart attack, they say. But I saw him yesterday, fit as a fiddle, arguing with that new girl from the city." The oven mitts were tugged off, revealing flour-caked hands that snatched a fresh muffin from the rack. "Arguing? Over what? And why's the sheriff poking around the bakery's back alley this morning?" A tray clattered lightly onto the counter, two muffins vanishing into a napkin. "Whispers say Hargrove was onto something—a missing heirloom brooch from Widow Jenkins' estate. Turned up in the trash bin out back here, all bent." The napkin-wrapped bundle was slid across discreetly. "Here? But I was baking till midnight! You'd think thieves have no manners." Chuckles mingled with the whir of the mixer. "Or maybe they do—left crumbs leading straight to your door, dear. Better watch your dough."