Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ07XG25H22BR9EH4D2T1WXC

The display case was fogged up from the oven, hiding the neat rows of blueberry scones. The bell above the door hadn't even stopped jingling before the whispering started. "Did you hear about the stranger at the inn?" "I was elbow-deep in pie dough. Strangers aren't exactly rare during the leaf-peeper season." "But this one didn't sign the guestbook. Millie said he paid in cash and kept his hat pulled low." "Millie also thinks the mail carrier is a government spy. Did he order the pecan sticky buns?" "Two of them. Didn't even eat at a table, just shoved them right into his coat pocket." "Well, that’s a crime, I suppose. Ruining a perfectly good sticky bun." "I'm serious. And he was asking about the old lighthouse." "Everyone asks about the lighthouse. It's haunted, allegedly. Good for tourism." "He had a scar. Right across his jaw. And muddy boots, even though it hasn't rained in days." "So he's clumsy and walks off the path. Look, until he steals the tip jar or murders a scone, he's just a paying customer. Now, are you having the chamomile or the Earl Grey?"