Run: 2026-09-23-01M36NNDYVE56V47TQ6E8SVNRQ

The bell above the door gave a shy jingle as rain streaked the windows of Buttercup Bakery. Mara set two mugs of tea beside the cooling rack, where a dozen cinnamon rolls waited beneath a clean linen cloth. “Your back door was open when I came by.” “Impossible. I bolted it after closing.” “Then someone has a very good key.” Mara glanced toward the narrow alley. The new brass lock gleamed in the lamplight, untouched—or carefully cleaned. “Did you see anyone?” “Only Mr. Bell’s orange cat. And cats don’t usually carry flour.” A dusting of white marked the floor beneath the counter. Mara crouched and found a tiny crescent of blue paper caught in the flour: the torn corner of a raffle ticket. “Not one of mine.” “Town picnic tickets are blue this year.” The bakery clock ticked over, loud as a spoon against a bowl. Mara turned the scrap between her fingers. A number showed through the flour: 17. “Who won the picnic hamper?” “Mrs. Pike. She’s been telling everyone about it.” “Then why would she need to sneak into a bakery?” “Perhaps she wasn’t after the hamper.” A gust rattled the front window. Outside, the cat sat beneath the awning, watching them with solemn golden eyes. Mara folded the ticket into her apron pocket. “Tomorrow, we ask Mrs. Pike about her floury shoes.” “After breakfast?” “After the cinnamon rolls. Even mysteries can wait until they’re warm.”