Run: 2026-09-02-01M1H59ND5XNVCK1ZRJGMBRQQ7

The bell above the door jingled just as I slid the last tray of cinnamon rolls into the display case. "You're open early." "Can't sleep when there's a mystery in town. Coffee?" "Please. Black. You heard about the break-in at Marjorie's antiqu shop, then?" "Half the county heard. The whole street's talking about it." I poured two mugs and slid one across the counter. "What I want to know is why someone would steal a teapot." "Not just any teapot. The silver one in the window. Worth a fortune, apparently." "A fortune? That dusty old thing?" "That dusty old thing belonged to the Founders' Ball. There's a story behind it." "There's always a story behind it. That's what makes this town wonderful and impossible." I wiped flour from my hands. "Marjorie came in yesterday. Ordered a lemon tart, barely touched it. Very unlike her." "Guilty conscience?" "Or worried about something. She kept looking out the window at the hardware store." "Dwight's place?" "Mm-hm. And Dwight bought two dozen doughnuts an hour later. Two dozen. He never buys more than six." "You count his doughnuts?" "I count everyone's doughnuts. It's my superpower." I leaned on the counter. "So. Teapot, tart, doughnuts. Where do we start?" "With the doughnuts. Obviously."