Run: 2026-05-10-01KR8YKGQG6YFPGHJ6ERTTRDFE

The scent of cardamom and toasted sugar hung thick in the air of Willow Creek Bakery. A fine dusting of flour coated the mahogany countertop, catching the warm morning light streaming through the front window. "I’m telling you, the blue ribbon wasn't just misplaced." "It’s probably just tucked away in the pantry with the sourdough starters." "Not the ribbon, dear. The locket. The one the Mayor was wearing at the fundraiser." "A locket? Is that why the sheriff was sniffing around the flour sacks this morning?" "Exactly. And I saw Mrs. Gable leaving through the back alley, looking far too frantic for a Tuesday." "She was always a jittery thing. Did she at least pick up any lemon tarts?" "She didn't have time for tarts. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Or a thief." "Well, if you find any more secrets, let me know. I only deal in cinnamon swirls." A tray of cooling scones sat between them, the steam rising in lazy, fragrant spirals against the backdrop of the quiet, sleepy street outside.