Run: 2026-07-09-01KX40Z0KCJB9TPE9ZXRJQRWKG

The bell above the bakery door gave a timid jingle as rain blew in across the tiled floor. Behind the counter, trays of cinnamon buns fogged the glass. “You’re early.” “You’re hiding something.” “Those aren’t mutually exclusive.” A paper bag landed beside the register. Grease spread through its bottom in the shape of a lopsided heart. “I found this in Mayor Bell’s office.” “That’s one of my bags.” “I noticed the blue wheat stamp.” “So did half the town. I handed out forty yesterday.” “Only six contained blackberry scones.” The mixer hummed in the kitchen. Outside, a bicycle rattled past, its rider hunched beneath a yellow rain cape. “Mayor Bell hates blackberries.” “He also hated losing elections, yet he managed that twice.” “This isn’t funny. He’s missing.” “And you think a pastry kidnapped him?” “I think someone met him after closing. There were crumbs on his desk and flour on the windowsill.” “Flour gets everywhere.” “Not lavender flour.” The mixer clicked off. Rain tapped the display window, soft as fingertips. “You recognized it.” “It’s used in the wedding biscuits.” “There hasn’t been a wedding here in months.” “No.” “Then why does your kitchen smell like lavender?” A pan clattered in the back room. “Because,” came the whisper, “the mayor wasn’t the only person who came here last night.”