Run: 2026-05-27-01KSMETVQQBKXEAN6F4ZZNQ66T

The bell above the bakery door chimed, dispensing the aroma of cinnamon rolls and fresh bread. You'd seen one too many episodes lately, I can tell. Been binge-watching those asset sleuthing shows again? Not at all. Just enjoying my morning pastry, like any sensible person. The cinnamon roll? Clearly a doozy despite its delicious appearance. There's something suspiciously perfect about those swirling whites chunks, don't you think? Reminds me of crime scene photos. You have such dark thoughts for such a sweet tooth. Speaking of, the raspberry danishes are calling my name. I do hope the baker vets her suppliers well these days. Absolutely. With recent poisoning cases allegedly connected to local suppliers, it's wise to be cautious. Smooth, Ellington. Smooth. It's always about poison with you, isn't it? Perhaps the case of missing townspeople has something to do with the municipal water supply testing positive for neurotoxins last month. Have you seen the latest reports? This town is facing weird fates. First the bakery surprise, then toxic water—next you'll be suggesting someone tampered with the entire corn syrup shipment from Hank's farm. I never said anything about Hank. But now that you mention it—and given the strange group of tourists with questionable alibis—it's worth considering. You read murder mysteries in bed, you know. I prefer historical romances myself. Just because I appreciate a properly decorative corpse doesn't mean I harbor homicidal thoughts about the local baker. Then why are we whispering in the corner of Marge's Parlour, watching her new apprentice with those suspicious oven mitts? Coincidence? Certainly not. The bell chimed again as we immigrant customers left, suddenly unsure whether to finish our second coffee.