Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ77KPXPM1DFQBN8C3WVV4VX

The bell above the door jingled, cutting through the scent of rising yeast and cinnamon. Flour dusted the counter like fresh snow. "You look like you've seen a ghost, or worse, burnt the sourdough." "Worse. Mrs. Gable's prize-winning scone recipe is gone. Vanished from the lockbox." "The one she swore she'd take to the grave? She guarded that tin box tighter than the bank vault." "Exactly. And look at this. Found it stuck to the bottom of the display case." A gloved hand slid a crumpled receipt across the marble. It smelled faintly of bitter almonds. The steam from the espresso machine hissed, masking a sharp intake of breath. "That's from the apothecary. Dated yesterday. Who buys arsenic and lavender soap on the same day?" "Someone planning a very permanent retirement party. Did you see who left this?" "Only a shadow in a tweed coat. But they dropped something else near the flour bins." "Don't tell me. The Mayor's cufflink?" "Gold, with the town crest. He claimed he was bedridden with the gout all morning." "Then why do his footprints lead straight to the back alley? Wrap those eclairs, dear. We have a visit to pay."