Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ02R82PSFEC37Q77A34CVPP

The bell above the door hadn't stopped swaying. "I told you not to open before sunrise." "The sourdough was ready. You know I can't stall yeast." "Mrs. Peabody's peach preserves are missing from the windowsill. Third jar this week." "Probably raccoons." "Raccoons don't leave footprints shaped like size-nine loafers. I found crumbs on the office carpet." A tray of scones sat between them. "You've been watching too many detective shows." "I found something else. A button. Navy blue, horn-shaped, like the ones on Clarence Finch's overcoat." "He was in here yesterday buying danishes." "He was in here three times yesterday. And he asked about the storage cellar. Twice." "That old miser couldn't lift a flour sack." "Maybe not alone. But his niece started working at the hardware store last month. Right when the pecans began vanishing." "You're saying they're stealing nuts?" "I'm saying the quilting club is meeting tonight at the library. Directly across from the bank." The oven timer clicked. "...That's rather specific." "Clarence asked if our back alley connects to Maple Street. It does. Past the loading dock with the broken lock." "Which you still haven't fixed." "Which I left broken. Some bait needs a trap."