Run: 2026-09-23-01M36WE4N01BS0B3EK2ZZ34SRP

The bell above the door chimed, sending a faint jingle through the warm, cinnamon-scented air. Maple Donovan glanced up from the display case where she'd been wiping smudges from the glass. "Another one, Maple. Another batch gone. Third time this month." "Good morning to you too, Delphine. What are you talking about now?" "The pecan tassies. I had six dozen cooling on the back rack, and when I turned around—gone. Not a crumb left." "Maybe you sold them at the morning rush. You know how folks are for those." "I *know* my pastries, and I know my customers. Nobody in this town can eat that many tassies before nine in the morning." "Hmm. And you didn't hear anything?" "Nothing at all. The back door was still latched, same as always." "That's odd. But surely it's just a coincidence. Poor bookkeeping, maybe?" "I've been baking for forty-one years, and I have never once lost track of a single pastry." "Well, you said yourself—the back door was still latched. So somebody walked right through your front." "Exactly my concern." "You think someone's sneaking in here to steal your pastries?" "I think someone's sneaking in here for something else entirely."