Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0NDK2YN7YHZ1AWAQ1YPZ67

The bell over the bakery door gave its usual bright jingle, though the morning fog pressed gray against the windows. Behind the counter, trays of currant scones steamed beside a cooling rack of lemon tarts. Flour dusted the floor like first snow. “You’re early.” “Couldn’t sleep. Not after what happened behind the church.” “Sheriff says Mr. Bell slipped on wet leaves.” “Mr. Bell never walked behind the church. He cut through the alley by the haberdashery every morning, regular as my oven timer.” A cinnamon roll was lifted from the tray, then set down untouched. “You found something.” “Maybe. In yesterday’s bread basket, the one delivered to the vicarage.” “That basket came back empty.” “Empty of bread, yes. Not empty of this.” A small brass button lay on the counter, gleaming beside a dusting of sugar. “That’s from the mayor’s coat.” “Or someone wants us to think so.” “The mayor was here yesterday, buying cherry buns for the council meeting.” “And arguing with Mr. Bell about the festival funds.” Outside, a bicycle rattled past, then slowed. “Hide it.” “Why?” “Because the mayor just crossed the street, and he isn’t wearing his coat.”