Run: 2026-10-07-01M4ASK66WXY16SJET4HZ6QCYD

The bell above the door chimed, scattering flour dust into the golden morning light. "You didn't use the usual yeast packet, did you?" "How would you know what's usual?" "I've been eating your sourdough for twelve years. This crumb is tighter. Denser. Something's fundamentally off with the texture." A pause. The whir of the stand mixer stopped. Wooden spoons clinked against a ceramic bowl. "Someone tampered with the starter last night. Left the back door unlocked, the padlock hanging broken on the step." "Tampered how?" "Poisoned, maybe. Or just ruined with something acidic. I found the jar sitting on the porch at dawn, lid ajar, a note tucked underneath the rubber band." "What did the note say?" "'The recipe dies with the town.'" "That's not funny." "No. It's not." The oven timer dinged sharply, filling the warm air with cinnamon. "But the blueberry muffins are still warm. Want one? We can figure out who wants to kill my grandmother's legacy while we eat." "Only if you promise not to use the suspect starter." "Too late. I already baked them with it an hour ago." "Then we better hurry. Before the killer strikes again, or we all end up with very unpleasant stomachaches." "Or both, I suppose."