Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ6ZR9RWEAA4QSNW163JCA00

The bell above the door chimed, cutting through the thick scent of rising yeast and cinnamon. Flour dusted the windowsill like fresh snow, and the oven timer ticked away in the corner. "Another scone? You've been staring at that crumb for five minutes." "I need the sugar. The sheriff just cornered me behind the display case about the antique locket found in the pie safe." "That explains the trembling. I thought the draft from the delivery door was finally winning." "It's not the draft. Mrs. Gable claimed she baked the victim's favorite tart, but the crust was wrong. Too flaky, exactly like my gran's secret recipe, not the shop's mix." "So, you're saying someone poisoned a councilman and framed the elderly librarian using your family's techniques?" "I'm saying someone knows what's buried in the flour vault, and they're using the town's sweet tooth to dig up the past." "Finish your tea. If this traces back to her ledger, we need to check the grain sacks before the bus tour arrives." "Agreed. But slide the heavy recipe box under the rack first. If the constable returns, I'd rather hide a fortune than explain why my grandmother's handwriting matches the blackmail notes." "Go. I'll hum the national anthem and look innocent."