Run: 2026-09-02-01M1H9ZEFB6BGV9ABXRBQFHG4V

The bell above the door jingled, cutting through the scent of rising brioche and cinnamon. A gloved hand tapped against the glass counter, leaving a faint smudge near the price tag of the scones. "You're trembling, Martha." "The dough won't hold its shape. Like my nerves after Tuesday's accident at the mill." "Stop scolding the flour and start telling me what you found." "I told the sheriff. He just laughed and called it 'honeycombs in the jam.'" "Sheriff Miller has never had the eye for detail required. Look closer at the glaze." "It looks like ordinary berry reduction. Except... there's grit. Tiny, crystalline specks that didn't dissolve." "Grit suggests more than fruit. Someone was hiding something sweet inside the jar, or perhaps something sharp." "If this batch goes out, Old Man Hemlock eats his usual scone. And Hemlock knows exactly whose recipe book went missing from the library." "Burn the batch. Then grab your apron. We have an author to confront before tea service." "He'll recognize the face behind the counter." "Let him look. By the time he tastes the ash of suspicion, we'll already be halfway to the police station with the real evidence."