Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ06Q5F8HS1GD8N12DV7ZETB

The glass display case fogged as the morning's first batch of blueberry scones cooled on the wire racks. The brass bell above the door hadn't chimed in twenty minutes, leaving the shop wrapped in the comforting scent of vanilla, nutmeg, and browning butter. "He’s late." "Who?" "Arthur. He’s been sitting at that corner table every Tuesday at eight sharp for twenty years. Rain or shine." "Maybe he just slept in." "At eighty-three? The man sets his pocket watch by the Presbyterian church bells. And look at his table." "What about it?" "The Earl Grey is still steaming, and the scone is half-eaten, but he’s vanished. He never leaves without finishing his tea. He always pays at the counter, too." "Maybe he just stepped out for some fresh air." "His walking stick is gone from the coatrack, but he left his wool scarf. It’s freezing out there. And wait—what’s that tucked under the saucer?" "A key?" "Not just any key. That’s the ornate brass one for the old Vanderhollow estate. Why on earth would Arthur have that? And why leave it behind?" "Look closer. Is that... a smudge of red on the handle?" "That’s not jam. Call the sheriff. Now."