Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD6TB4G45VM7Q8T2QSR8EWY

The bell over the door jingled as rain-slicked footsteps crossed the bakery floor. Outside, Maple Street glistened under gray morning light. "You're here early." "Couldn't sleep. Kept thinking about the fundraiser." "And about whose fingerprints were on that cash box?" "Don't start." "Martha, the box was in the church basement all night. Only three people had keys." "Four, if you count the spare under the flowerpot." "There's a spare under the flowerpot?" "Was. It went missing last spring." "And you're only telling me this now?" "I didn't think it mattered until someone emptied four hundred dollars of pie money." The espresso machine hissed, filling the pause between them. A tray of cinnamon rolls cooled on the counter, their scent doing nothing to soften the tension. "You think it's someone from the committee." "I think it's someone who knew about the flowerpot." "That's half the town." "Half the town doesn't garden. Whoever took the key would have noticed the pot needed watering. It was bone dry that week." "Good heavens." "So—who helped plant the rectory garden in March?" The rain tapped harder against the window. Somewhere in the back, a timer began to beep, and neither of them moved to answer it.