Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1HPMVHA4BX59BJNV5DVXWM

The bell above the door chimed softly as a customer stepped into Hattie's Bakery, the warm scent of cinnamon and yeast wrapping around them like a favorite quilt. "Are you sure you want the blueberry scone today? The blackberry ones just came out of the oven." "The blackberry, then. And a bear claw if they're fresh." "Just pulled them out. Rough morning?" "You could say that. Did you hear about the Henderson place?" "Only that the police were there again. What happened now?" "Someone broke in last night. Took the painting off the parlor wall—the one Mrs. Henderson inherited from her aunt. The valuable one." "Now, why would anyone want that old thing?" "That's the question, isn't it? Sheriff Albright says it might be connected to those other break-ins on Maple Street." "Three in a month. That's not coincidence." "No, it isn't. And I happen to know you knew the Hendersons pretty well, didn't you?" A long pause. The coffeepot gurgled. "I knew them. That's all." "Is it? Because I heard you and Mr. Henderson had quite the disagreement last week." "Where'd you hear that?" "Small town, sweetheart. Bread always rises smelling like gossip."