Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8H68KZSK5RY2TMRZN3M5D

The aroma of fresh cinnamon rolls and brewing coffee filled the air of Willow Creek Bakery, where sunlight streamed through lace-curtained windows onto checkered tablecloths. Behind the counter, flour-dusted aprons hung on hooks, and a chalkboard menu advertised today's special: cranberry scones. "I can't believe old Mr. Hargrove's antique clock went missing right after the town fair. You think it was stolen?" "Stolen? In Willow Creek? More likely misplaced. But I did see that new visitor from out of town eyeing it strangely." "Eying it? Like he was casing the joint? Oh, come on, you're always spinning yarns." "Not yarns—clues. Remember, he bought a dozen muffins here that morning, paid in cash, and didn't make eye contact. Suspicious, if you ask me." "Suspicious or just shy? Pass me that rolling pin; these doughnuts won't shape themselves. Besides, if it was theft, who'd want a dusty old clock?" "Someone who knows its value. It's not just any clock—rumor has it, there's a hidden compartment. What if it holds a secret?" "A secret? Now you're talking mystery novel stuff. Fine, let's keep an eye out. But first, coffee?" "Deal. And extra cream—no skimping."