Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCPQ907T2N9X0QEHC6A819E

The bell over the door gave its tired jingle, and the smell of scalded sugar rushed out to meet the cold. "You burnt the caramel again." "I did not burn it. I *toasted* it. There's a difference, and one day you'll learn it." "Marjorie, I've eaten your baking for thirty-one years. I know burnt." A tray clattered onto the counter. Steam curled up between them. "Sit down and have a bun before I throw you out into the sleet." "I will. But first — did you hear about the Hollis place?" "Heard the police were up there at six this morning, if that's what you mean." "Six-fifteen. I was walking Duchess." "You don't have a dog." "I'm minding one. Point is, Constable Reed came down that lane looking like a man who'd swallowed a bee." "And what would he be looking for at the Hollis place, do you suppose?" "Ellen Hollis, for one. Nobody's seen her since the harvest supper." The scrape of a chair. A long silence, filled with the tick of the oven timer. "She ordered a lemon tart for Sunday. Paid in advance. Ellen Hollis has never once in her life let a paid-for tart go uncollected." "No. She hasn't." "Pour the tea, Beatrice. And shut the blinds."