Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ74G49C5ZWGY5VHTRED2R3M

The bell above the door jingled sharply, cutting through the heavy scent of yeast and caramelized sugar. Dust motes danced in the shafts of morning light that pierced the glass display case, illuminating rows of perfect pastries. "You're late, Martha. The scones won't rise by themselves, and the oven's been screaming at me for ten minutes." "I know, I know. The police cruiser is parked right outside, blocking the old maple tree. I had to double back past the post office." "The police? Here? At the bakery? This close to the town bake-off?" "They found something in the crumb tray, Elsie. Or maybe in the blueberry muffin tin. It wasn't a criminal, though." "Oh, dear. Did the Mayor get sick again?" "Worse. They found a ledger tucked under the flour sack. A real ledger, signed in red ink. The kind Mayor Henderson uses for his 'off-book' donations." "A ledger? But that's the Mayor's secret gambling den!" "Exactly. And I think the baker knows exactly where it came from. He's been sweating through his apron." "Then lock the back door, dear. And hand me that rolling pin. If Detective Miller walks in, we'll need something heavier than a whisk to defend our reputation."