Run: 2026-03-18-01KM094GARHYNFDN9ECYJZF3KT

The bell over Maribel’s Bakery gave its cheerful jingle as Nora stepped inside, shaking rain from her coat. Warmth wrapped around her at once, sweet with cinnamon, butter, and the faint tang of fresh coffee. “You’re late,” said the woman behind the counter, sliding a tray of lemon bars into the display case. “I know. The town square was blocked off again.” “For what this time?” “Apparently someone found a dead raccoon in the fountain.” A small snort of laughter came from the oven. “Only in Willow Creek.” Nora lowered her voice. “Have you heard about Mr. Pritchard?” “The hardware man?” “He says his ledger was stolen.” Maribel wiped her hands on her apron and raised an eyebrow. “Stolen from where?” “From his locked office.” “That sounds dramatic.” “That’s because he’s dramatic.” Maribel reached for a bag and began filling it with still-warm scones. “Did he lose anything besides the ledger?” “Only his temper.” “Then perhaps the thief did the town a favor.” Nora smiled despite herself. “He thinks someone’s been peeking at his accounts.” “Someone always is, if he leaves them on the counter.” Nora leaned closer as the bell jingled again and a gust of wet air slipped in. “He also said the same person asked for your pecan pie recipe.” Maribel froze, then set the bag down very carefully. “Well,” she said, voice light as sugar, “that is a much more interesting problem.”