Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KAK5QJHKRKDCFPBKE1F6YE

The bakery smelled of cinnamon and burnt sugar. A tray of scones cooled beside the register. “Morning, Vera. You’re in early.” “Couldn’t sleep. The flour delivery came at five, and I kept thinking about those footprints behind the church.” “Footprints? You mean from the festival?” “Small ones. Pointed toes. Not Frank’s work boots, that’s for sure.” “You think someone was digging near the rose bed?” “I know someone was digging. The question is what they buried.” “Don’t tell me you poked around.” “Of course I did. There was a tin box, the kind Martha uses for her lavender shortbread.” “Martha? But she’s been at her sister’s in Portland since Tuesday.” “Exactly. So who was baking with her tin in the middle of the night?” The bell over the door chimed. Two cups clinked. “Maybe you should let the sheriff know.” “And say what? That I found cookie crumbs at a potential crime scene? He’ll laugh me out of town.” “Then we’ll figure it out ourselves. But first, coffee. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “Worse. I think I saw the mayor’s scarf.”