Run: 2026-05-01-01KQHSB7NKQ22PNET77CSHPG3E

The bell above the bakery door gave a cheerful tinkle as Harriet stepped inside, the scent of warm cinnamon and vanilla wrapping around her like an old friend. Sunlight streamed through the lace-curtained windows, casting a golden glow over glass cases filled with flaky pastries. “Those look like they might solve a murder this morning.” “Only if the victim died of happiness. Try the blueberry scones first. Still warm.” Harriet leaned over the counter, eyes twinkling. “You always know exactly what I need before I do. How’s the new lemon lavender loaf selling?” “Like it’s going out of style. Mrs. Pickering bought three slices before nine and declared it better than her late husband’s snoring. I’ll take that as high praise.” A soft chuckle. “Speaking of the dearly departed, did you hear what they found in old Mr. Gibbons’s attic yesterday?” The baker’s hands paused mid-wipe on a checkered cloth. “I heard it was a box of letters. And a very old bottle of sherry that might explain why he never threw them away.” “Letters from someone who wasn’t his wife, I’ll wager. Think that’s why someone finally helped him into the great beyond?” “Another scone?” “Don’t mind if I do.”