Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ7815YEF2Z5QTZFJE8VCWSD

The brass bell jingled softly, announcing an arrival into the warm, yeasty air of *The Crusty Loaf*. Steam whispered from the glass display cases, curling around rows of golden danishes and jars of artisan jams. Flour dusted the air like snow. "You're holding the tarts hostage again, aren't you?" The heavy iron key clattered onto the flour-dusted work table, scattering a few dried lavender buds. "Martha mentioned the Mayor's schedule changed. If he's not at the charity gala tonight, our window for the exchange closes by midnight." "Let him stay home. Fewer eyes on the town square means less risk for us." A rolling pin thumped sharply against the marble surface. "Risk is exactly how you ended up buried in the hydrangeas last week. I want this baked in, not buried. Give me the combination." "Three-seven-nine. But listen closely: do not touch the blueberry filling. It's contaminated." "Contaminated? By what? Cyanide is so cliché for a Tuesday." "By the ledger hidden in the flour sacks. The proof of the embezzlement. Now wash up. Mrs. Gable is parking her Buick, and she notices everything."