Run: 2026-07-01-01KWE99691BQPS5XMDCNMDBVCW

The bell above the door jingled as Margaret shook rain from her umbrella, the smell of cinnamon and fresh bread wrapping around her like a blanket. "You're late. I saved you the last cranberry scone, but Harold's been circling it like a vulture." "Harold can circle all he wants. I had to stop by the sheriff's office." "About the Hutchins case?" "The very same. Turns out Mrs. Hutchins wasn't as innocent as she let on." "I knew it. I told you there was something off about the way she cried at that funeral. Too much handkerchief-waving, not enough actual tears." "You should've been a detective instead of a baker." "I *am* a detective. I just happen to specialize in flour and gossip. Now sit down and eat before that scone gets cold, and tell me everything." Margaret slid into the corner booth, the vinyl creaking beneath her, and lowered her voice even though the shop was empty save for the two of them and a dozing cat curled by the register. "The necklace they found in the garden? It wasn't hers." "Whose was it, then?" "That's the part that's going to ruin your whole morning."