Run: 2026-05-31-01KSYX8XKEQ6MFMQ1MBAZ44A8T

The bell above the door chimed as the scent of cinnamon drifted through the warm air. "You're here early. The cinnamon rolls aren't even out of the oven yet." "I'm not here for the rolls. I heard about Mr. Pemberton." "Terrible business, that. Found him slumped over his desk, they say. Heart, probably." "That's what everyone keeps saying. But did you notice his teacup?" "His teacup? Can't say I was invited to the scene, dear. What about it?" "Margaret mentioned it was still full. Stone cold and full to the brim." "So the man didn't finish his tea. Hardly a scandal." "Henry Pemberton drank three cups every morning before he'd say a word to anyone. Never left a drop. You know that as well as I do." "I do, now that you mention it. He'd come in here demanding his scones piping hot and complain if I'd let them sit a minute." "Exactly. So why would a man who couldn't bear cold tea leave a full cup untouched?" "Unless something stopped him before he could drink it." "Or someone." The oven timer buzzed, sharp and sudden in the quiet. "I'll get the rolls. You get the kettle on. If we're going to puzzle this through, we'll need proper tea."