Run: 2026-07-09-01KX3ZZQ89KGG38R73EVYSH4DF

The bell above the bakery door jingled, though no customer entered. Mara paused halfway through dusting a tray of cinnamon rolls. “You heard that too?” “I heard the back door slam five minutes ago. Then I found this.” Aunt June held up a flour-dusted brass key. Its old-fashioned teeth gleamed beneath the pendant lights. “That belongs to the town hall,” Mara whispered. “I saw it on Mayor Bell’s ring yesterday.” “Then why was it beneath the mixing table?” “Maybe the mayor stopped by for a midnight pastry.” “Mayor Bell is allergic to cinnamon.” Mara glanced toward the display case. One roll was missing, leaving a spiral of icing smeared across the glass. “Someone came in after closing,” she said. “They took the key, dropped it, and stole a bun.” “Or someone wanted us to think a hungry thief came in.” The oven timer chimed. Both women jumped. June lowered her voice. “What’s in the town hall safe?” “Nothing worth breaking in for. Old minutes, property deeds, and the original map of Bellwether.” “Unless someone discovered that map has changed.” Outside, tires crunched over snow. Mara reached for the rolling pin. “We’re closed.” A shadow passed across the frosted window. June smiled tightly. “Then let’s give our customer the warmest welcome in town.”