Run: 2026-05-10-01KR936G50PKMVBKJYVWDCJ90K

The brass bell above the door gave a cheerful chime, momentarily drowning out the rhythmic hum of the industrial mixer. Inside, the air was a thick, comforting blanket of yeast, cinnamon, and toasted pecans. "The blueberry scones are just coming out of the oven." "I'm not here for breakfast." "Is it about the incident at the town hall? I heard the mayor is quite shaken." "It's not the mayor. It's what was found tucked behind the flour sacks in the old cellar." "Oh, don't tell me you found something... scandalous." "A silver locket. Still tarnished, but the engraving is unmistakable." "Whose initials?" "Evelyn Thorne. And we both know she hasn't stepped foot in Willow Creek for twenty years." "But she was supposed to have died in London." "Exactly." The heavy wooden rolling pin hit the flour-dusted counter with a muffled thud. A stray dusting of white powder swirled in a shaft of morning sunlight, dancing like a ghost between the glass display cases. Outside, the autumn fog clung to the cobblestones, holding its breath.