Run: 2026-03-09-01KK9Q7WYSVB3N4T8686W8E6B6

The bell over the bakery door gave its usual cheerful jingle, though the mood inside was anything but cheerful. Cinnamon and warm butter clung to the air, fighting a losing battle with the sharp scent of scorched sugar drifting from the kitchen. “You burned another batch.” “I was distracted.” “By the dead man in the alley?” “By the footprint on my flour room floor.” Morning light fell across glass cases crowded with lemon tarts, sugared buns, and a single blackberry pie with a wedge missing. Near the register, a tray of ginger scones sat untouched, which in Maple Hollow counted as its own kind of emergency. “You called the sheriff?” “I called my cousin first. The sheriff was with her.” “That sounds promising for your cousin and terrible for your nerves.” A dusting of flour marked the black-and-white tile behind the counter. One print led neatly toward the back door. The other stopped at the bread rack as if whoever made it had vanished into thin air. “Nobody vanishes in a bakery.” “Tell that to my pie server. It’s gone.” “You think someone stole a pie server after finding a body?” “I think someone took it before anyone found the body.” The espresso machine hissed like it had its own opinion. “Then you think it’s the murder weapon.” “I think if I say that out loud, I’ll have to close early.” A pause. Outside, a dog barked and a delivery truck rattled past. “Well, don’t close. I just sat down.”