Run: 2026-09-02-01M1H5EZ7MM8Y4A11HAQHKT8FD

The bell over the door jingled as morning light spilled across the display case. "You're here early. The cinnamon rolls aren't even glazed yet." "Couldn't sleep. Did you hear about the auction house?" "The Hollis estate? Half the town's talking about it. They say the appraisal was fake." "Not just fake. Mrs. Pemberton's sapphire brooch is missing, and she swears it was in the display case on Thursday." "Thursday. That's the night the power went out, isn't it? Right around closing." "Eight minutes, according to the electric company. Long enough for someone to walk in, unlock the case with a key, and walk out again." "Who has a key besides the manager?" "His nephew just started working there. And his nephew owes three months of back rent to the Hendersons." "That's speculation, not proof. Besides, the manager was at the firehouse supper that night. Half of Maple Street saw him." "The nephew wasn't, though. Nobody remembers seeing him there." "Here." A cinnamon roll slid across the counter, steam still rising. "You'll think better with something warm in you. But if you're going to poke around that auction house, take me with you." "You hate crowds." "And you hate going places alone. Consider it mutual protection." The bell jingled again behind them.