Run: 2026-07-01-01KWE8WWDCV5Z895KHYM7TWWDA

The smell of cinnamon rolls hung thick in the air as Maple Street Bakery opened for the morning rush. Behind the counter, flour dusted across an apron like fresh snow. "You heard about Mrs. Hutchins, then?" A rolling pin paused mid-stroke. "Heard what?" "Found her garden shears in the koi pond. Right where Deputy Ramirez pulled that poor Whitfield fellow out yesterday." The dough got a firm punch. "That doesn't mean anything. Half the town owns garden shears." "Half the town didn't have a screaming match with him at the town hall meeting last Tuesday." A sigh, and the rolling pin resumed its work with more force than necessary. "You weren't even there." "Doesn't mean I didn't hear about it. Sharon at the flower shop told me everything. Said Whitfield was trying to buy up her family's land for that resort development." The baker set down the pin, wiping hands on the apron before crossing arms. "So now she's a murderer because she argued about property lines?" "I'm just saying what people are saying." "Well, people should mind their own bread and butter." A tray of golden croissants slid into the display case with a little more clatter than necessary. "Mrs. Hutchins couldn't hurt a fly. She feeds the strays behind her house every morning." "Feeding strays and murder aren't mutually exclusive, you know." "Neither are gossip and getting banned from my bakery."