Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95076VPAD821N9JC0CCEER

The chime above the door announced a visitor just as the scent of proofing dough filled the air. "Morning, Clara. Those bear claws look more lethal than usual today." "Flakier, Arthur. The word you’re looking for is flakier." "Tell that to my cardiologist. Say, any word on why the sheriff’s cruiser was idling outside the old Miller place at dawn?" "I’m a baker, not a police scanner." "Yet you always seem to have the freshest glaze on the local news." "If I did, I wouldn't waste it on someone who hasn't even bought a coffee yet." "One dark roast and a cinnamon twist, then. Now, spill. I saw a man sneaking out the back gate around four o’clock." "Could have been a hungry fox. Or a shadow." "Foxes don't wear trench coats, Clara. And they certainly don't carry leather briefcases." "Maybe he was delivering something. An urgent ingredient, perhaps." "In a briefcase? To a house that’s been boarded up since the mayor’s nephew vanished? Something is rising in this town, and it isn't just your sourdough." "Watch your sleeve, Arthur. You’re trailing it through the powdered sugar." "A little sugar never hurt anyone. Unlike whatever is hidden behind those Miller shutters." "Drink your coffee and stay out of the rain. Some secrets are better left to cool on the rack."