Run: 2026-10-06-01M48W5681V253S1NFR6C60ZQN

The bell above the door chimed as Marnie stepped inside, flour dusting her cardigan from the morning's sourdough. "There you are." Clara emerged from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten we had a meeting." "I was detained." Marnie set her canvas tote on the counter, producing a manila envelope. "The sheriff finally returned my call." "And?" "And he wants to know why three witnesses now claim they saw a blue sedan near the Henderson place that night. Not the truck everyone reported." Clara's jaw tightened. She reached for the coffee pot, poured two cups without asking. "You didn't tell him about the letter." "I didn't tell him anything. I listened." Marnie accepted the cup, inhaling the cinnamon-scented steam. "Someone's cleaning up loose ends, Clara. Someone who knows what really happened." The back door creaked. Both women turned. "Morning, ladies." Old Man Pritchard shuffled in, his walker squeaking against the linoleum. "Heard there was fresh rye. And gossip. Mostly gossip, from the sound of it." Marnie smiled despite herself. "We were just discussing the farmers market, Mr. Pritchard. Nothing exciting." "Good." He settled onto his usual stool. "Best keep it that way. Small towns, you know. Everyone's watching. Everyone remembers." Clara slid a slice of still-warm bread onto his plate. "On the house, as always." "As always," he agreed, and said no more.