Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0NBRQZ1W0QKW2ATC02YYFE

The bell over the bakery door gave its usual cheerful jingle, though nothing about the morning felt cheerful. Rain tapped the windows, and the glass case glowed with rows of lemon tarts, cinnamon knots, and one conspicuously empty space where the mayor’s favorite almond cake had been. “You’re early.” “So are the police. They’re outside Mrs. Bellamy’s house.” “I heard. Poor woman. But what has that got to do with my bakery?” “You delivered dessert to the town council supper last night.” “So did half the ladies in the church guild.” “Half the guild didn’t receive a note tucked under a pie box.” The old oven clicked and sighed. Flour dust drifted across the counter like pale smoke. “What note?” “The one that says, ‘Too much sugar can be deadly.’” “That was a joke. People leave silly things here all the time.” “Did you keep it?” “No.” “Convenient.” “Careful. I may be known for buttercream, but I can still throw a rolling pin.” “I’m not accusing you. I’m asking why Mrs. Bellamy had your blue ribbon almond cake on her table when you told everyone you’d sold out by noon.” Silence settled between the trays of cooling scones. “Because she came in after closing.” “And?” “She was frightened. She said someone wanted that recipe badly enough to kill for it.”