Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ6ZXTASZ9MT5BWFYE4WEYZC

"You're trembling. Tell me you haven't eaten the gluten-free lemon tart yet." "I haven't. I found something wedged under the display case. Miller's deed to the old gristmill." "Miller's been dust for a decade. Who's claiming the land?" "That's the problem. The flour sack near the door was slashed, leaking like a heartbeat, and someone wrote 'Stop' in red icing on the window." "Red icing? That's raspberry glaze, from the batch we made before the power outage." "Exactly. Someone was here before opening. And they knew which batch we'd check." The bell above the door jingles. They both freeze, eyes darting to the shadows near the register. "Well, grab the baguette. It's heavy enough to crack a skull and perfect for a stakeout." "Just keep your voice down. Sheriff Higgins is eyeing the muffin tin like it owes him money." "He suspects everyone. But if he finds that deed, the festival is dead in the water." The flour dust hangs thick in the air, smelling of almonds and trouble. A scribbled scrap floats down from the sourdough crock. "The festival is already in trouble. Someone left a note in the starter. 'Digging graves pays better.'" "Then pass me the knife. We'd better check who's hiding in the walk-in cooler."