Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCXXXYSAT5FZYRMFNZY27HJ

Flour dust hung suspended in the sunlight slanting through the frosted glass of the display case, catching the smell of melted butter and toasted pecans. "I'm telling you, Arthur didn't touch the prize-winning marrow." "He was the only one with a key to the potting shed after midnight, Martha." "A key he keeps on a brass ring which hasn't left his pocket since the V.E. Day parade." "Then how do you explain the blue wool fibers caught on the latch?" "Mrs. Higgins knits half the county into those hideous cardigans of hers." "She was at the prayer meeting until nine." "Alibis can be baked just as easily as scones." "Are you accusing the vicar's wife of vegetable sabotage?" "I’m just saying, nobody grows a thirteen-pound zucchini by accident." "So you think it was a professional hit?" "I think someone wanted the blue ribbon badly enough to commit botanical grand larceny." "Well, whoever did it left crumbs on the workbench." "Crumbs?" "Shortbread, specifically. Lavender and lemon." "Oh, dear." "Indeed. There's only one kitchen in three parishes that uses dried culinary lavender." "Constable Higgins is going to have a very awkward Sunday dinner."