Run: 2026-05-20-01KS25SRBNME9DQRC1FNTXW32T

The scent of caramelized sugar and warm yeast clung to the air, competing with the gentle hum of the vintage display fridge. Outside, rain tapped softly against the leaded glass window of *The Daily Crumb*, casting long, cozy shadows across the tiled floor. "I’m telling you, Arthur’s flour delivery was short by three sacks, and he didn't seem the least bit bothered." "Arthur? The man who counts his chocolate chips? That’s practically a confession." "Exactly. And when I asked him about it, he nearly dropped his clipboard. He said he’d had a detour near the old copper mine." "The mine? No one goes up there anymore unless they’re looking for trouble—or trying to hide a crowbar." "My thoughts exactly. I managed to snag his delivery receipt while he was distracted by the sourdough." "Did you now? Show me." "It’s right here, tucked under the lemon tarts. Look at the signature at the bottom. That isn't Arthur’s messy scribble." "Good heavens. That’s Mayor Higgins’s elegant cursive. What on earth is the mayor doing signing for baking supplies in the middle of a police investigation?" "I don't know, but I think our murderer has a sweet tooth."