Run: 2026-03-25-01KMJ89FFPXGXF7KVCJKQ952DA

The scent of cinnamon and butter lingered in the air as a bell above the door chimed. “Rough morning?” “You could say that. The usual suspects, probably.” A cup of tea spun in its saucer. “Though someone left a note under my apron hook. Just the word *watch*. No signature.” “Watch for what? Tourists? The mayor’s committee?” “A certain *type* of tourist. You remember that antique locket that went missing last fall?” A flour-dusted hand tapped a newspaper. “Found it in a pie crust this morning. Trapped between the bottom and the tin.” “What kind of pie?” “Apple-raspberry. Mrs. Peabody’s order. She didn’t mention it when she picked it up.” A pause, then a quiet laugh. “Though she did ask if I’d seen *anyone* lingering near the back door lately.” “Anyone specific?” “Think it’s the same person who’s been photographing the historic homes. Always with a camera, always too quiet.” “Maybe they’re writing a guidebook.” “Or casing the town for something else.” A sigh, and the clink of a spoon against china. “Still, I added an extra dash of nutmeg to the scones today. For luck.” “Or for *distracting*.” A reluctant smile. “Someone’s got to keep the gossip lighter than the cookie dough.” Outside, the rain began to patter against the bakery’s windows.