Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0PSF85GD6JVJFCKXC3SJ48

The bell over Crumb & Clover gave its usual silver jingle, though the bakery smelled less like cinnamon rolls and more like suspicion. Rain stitched the front windows, blurring Main Street into watercolor. “You’re early.” “And you’re dusting flour over an already spotless counter.” “It calms me.” “Finding Mayor Bell’s signet ring baked into a blackberry tart would unsettle anyone.” “It wasn’t baked in. It was tucked beneath the crust. Deliberately.” “So whoever hid it knew your pastry schedule.” “Half the town knows my pastry schedule. It’s on the chalkboard.” “Did anyone come through the kitchen yesterday?” “Deliveries, choir ladies, Mr. Pruitt complaining about too much nutmeg, and Tansy with the library raffle tickets.” “Tansy wears gloves, even in July.” “She has cold hands.” “She also argued with the mayor at the book sale.” “Everyone argued with the mayor. He wanted to turn the gazebo into parking.” A tray rattled in the cooling rack. Outside, a truck hissed through puddles. “There’s something else.” “I thought so. Your lemon scones are burning.” “They’re not. I set the timer.” “No, you didn’t.” The oven door flew open. Warm citrus rushed out, sharp and sweet. On the top scone, blackened at the edges, a smear of blue ink curled into a single word. “Gazebo.” “Looks like breakfast just became evidence.”