Run: 2026-07-01-01KWEA1J0YXRTC9RJV2WKQ2TAH

The smell of cinnamon still clung to the walls of Higgins' Bakery, though the ovens had gone cold hours ago. Maple Hollow's morning light slanted through the front window, catching dust motes above the empty display case. "You're telling me Dot Higgins didn't bake a single thing yesterday? In forty years, that's never happened." "Not one scone. I called at six, no answer. Called again at seven. Nothing." "And the back door was unlocked?" "Wide open. Flour bag tipped over on the counter, like she just walked away mid-recipe." "Did you check the register?" "Empty. But not robbed-empty. Careful-empty. Like someone counted it out." "That's odd. Dot never lets anyone touch that register but her." "Exactly what I thought. And there's this—" A small brass button, tarnished at the edges, was set on the counter between them. "That's not from anything Dot wears." "No. It's from a police uniform. I checked." "You think Officer Reilly was here?" "I think somebody wanted us to think he was." "So where's Dot?" "That's what worries me. If someone's trying to frame Reilly, they needed Dot gone first. And gone quietly." "Then we'd better find her before whoever did this decides quiet isn't enough."