Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD4NW58EZ9XDS9VS7NPQ45X

The bell over Buttercup Bakery jingled, but the usual morning rush was oddly silent. The display case of cinnamon rolls sat untouched, and a fine dusting of flour covered everything like fresh snow. Apple Creek had never been good at keeping secrets, but it was excellent at keeping recipes. "You left the back door unlocked again." "The health inspector said that lock sticks. Besides, it wasn't the back door someone should worry about." "What do you mean?" "Check the pantry. And bring your nose. Something besides sourdough is sour in there." The pantry door creaked open. A sack of flour had burst, and in the middle of the white drift lay a very still, very powdered mayor. "The mayor? In my pantry? Covered in powdered sugar? Oh, honey, this is bad for business." "Murder is bad for business. Powdered sugar is great for business. Focus." "Did you at least get a good look at who left him there? Any footprints? Crumbs?" "Just one thing. Your monogrammed apron was draped over the sack of flour, and it wasn't there last night." "That apron went missing Tuesday! Someone's trying to frame me!" "Then we have until the sheriff finishes his coffee and donut to unframe you." The oven timer dinged, too cheerful for a room with a body in it. Outside, Mrs. Gable pressed her face against the window, already dialing.