Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCYPG0HYYEG6HZ8VA8Z3KMY

The scent of cinnamon and warm yeast always softened the morning chill, but today the air inside The Daily Knead felt distinctly frosted. A tray of raspberry scones hit the glass counter with a heavy thud. "He didn't come in for his usual cruller." "Maybe he overslept." "Ephraim Vance hasn't overslept since 1984. Besides, his front door was unlocked, and his prize-winning orchid was smashed on the porch." A silver spoon clinked against porcelain as coffee was stirred with frantic speed. "Did you call Chief Higgins?" "And admit I was snooping past his hydrangeas at six in the morning? Not a chance. But I saw Martha leaving his driveway right before dawn." "Martha? She can barely handle her own walking frame, let alone whatever happened to Ephraim." "She wasn't using her frame. And she was carrying a very heavy-looking canvas bag." The bell above the bakery door chimed, cutting the whisper short. A dusting of flour settled over the register like fresh snow. "Keep your eyes on the door and act natural. Wipe the counter." "I'm wiping, I'm wiping! Just don't look now, but she's standing right behind you."