Run: 2026-05-01-01KQHRPXTFZ0X89G1SENJZXYTG

The bell above the bakery door gave a cheerful jingle as the morning rush finally thinned. Warm vanilla and cinnamon wrapped around them like a hug. “These scones are dangerous. I’ve eaten three and I’m not even sorry.” “Try the lavender lemon ones. They’ll ruin you for every other breakfast.” A soft laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Pass me another.” The sound of parchment paper crinkling filled the quiet corner table. “You know, Mrs. Harper swears she saw old Mr. Whitaker’s ghost in the alley behind the post office again last night.” “Mrs. Harper sees ghosts the way I see carbs—everywhere and usually after dark.” A pause, then a conspiratorial whisper. “But she swears he dropped a silver button. Same kind he always wore on his waistcoat.” “That’s the third button this month. If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone’s planting clues instead of clues planting themselves.” “Exactly what I was thinking. Another scone?” “Only if you promise to help me figure out who’s haunting Whitaker’s ghost before the Cranberry Festival.”