Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DA0WKQQF8VX8S8TBSE4NPY

"Two sugar cookies and a black coffee, please," the woman said, sliding a crumpled receipt across the counter. "And don't tell me the lemon tarts are sold out again." "Only the last one, and it's yours if you want it." Flour dusted the baker's apron, and a faint tremor shook her hand as she wrapped the cookies in wax paper. "Heard about Walter's shop this morning. Dreadful business." "Dreadful is one word for it. The police think he slipped on that wet floor." "Do they?" The baker set the tart down beside the cookies, then lingered, glancing toward the back door. "Funny. Walter mopped that floor himself every night for thirty years. He never once left it wet." "Maybe he was careless yesterday." "Careless isn't Walter. Precise is Walter. He'd sooner burn the bread than leave a mess." A bell chimed as the door opened. Neither of them looked up. "You knew him better than most," the woman said quietly. "So why are you really closing early today?" The baker's knuckles whitened on the counter. "Because someone's been in my kitchen, too."