Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2E10VV84NK6R64QVE919Y0

The bell above the bakery door chimed, a cheerful jingle swallowed by the scent of cinnamon and yeast. A tray of bear claws slid onto the cooling rack. “You’re early today. The blueberry scones aren’t even out of the oven yet.” “I’m not here for scones. Did you see who was lurking around your back door last night?” A flour-dusted hand paused mid-reach for a piping bag. “Lurking? Or just Mrs. Henderson’s cat again? That thing has a taste for my croissant scraps.” “This was no cat. Tall, wearing a dark coat. He was messing with the lock on the storage shed.” “The shed? There’s nothing in there but old tins and my grandmother’s rolling pin collection.” “Maybe that’s exactly what he wanted. I heard your grandmother’s pin had a secret compartment.” A soft laugh, then the hiss of a steamer. “You’ve been reading too many of those true crime pamphlets from the library. It’s just a rolling pin. Wood and memories.” “And you’re just a baker who makes the best lemon tarts in three counties. But there’s more to both of you. I’d keep that pin locked up tight if I were you.” The steamer fell silent. “Locked up. Yes. Good idea.” A drawer slid shut with a quiet, final click.