Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KCXWEG8BRXCSY0RY9P6RD9

“You’re sure it was a scone?” Mabel slid a tray of golden croissants onto the cooling rack, her flour-dusted apron cinched tight. “Not just any scone. The one with the lavender glaze. I’d recognize it anywhere.” Nora tapped the glass case, leaving a faint fingerprint. “She bought two every Tuesday. Regular as clockwork.” “And you think that’s what did her in?” “I think someone swapped the lavender for something else. Hemlock’s got a bitter taste, but you’d never notice under all that sugar.” Mabel paused, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Who would want to poison old Mrs. Pendleton? She gave free bread to the church.” “She also knew about the missing funds from the historical society. And she told me she’d found a receipt—in the bakery’s own trash.” “Our trash?” “Behind the shop. Someone here’s been baking more than sourdough.” A bell jingled as the door opened. Both women looked up, then back at each other. Mabel’s smile tightened. “Well,” she said, reaching for a pastry box, “we’d better make sure our next customer gets exactly what they ordered.”