Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DAFZ3PQ1WG5ZA5NT3BAWJX

The bell above the door jingled, and cinnamon hung thick in the air. "You're up early," the baker said, sliding a tray of rolls onto the counter. "Or did you never make it to bed?" "Couldn't sleep. Not after what happened to Harold." "Harold ate three of my lemon tarts last Tuesday. Nobody deserves what happened to him, but that's hardly a motive." "The police don't see it that way. They found his mug on your back step, and it has your initials painted on the handle." "Half this town owns a mug like that. I order them from the Hendersons' shop by the dozen." "Then why were you out there scrubbing the step at midnight?" A long pause followed, filled only by the hiss of the espresso machine. "Because somebody spilled something on it, and I didn't want anyone slipping. Even a town this small has to look after its own." "Something like what? Flour? Sugar?" "Lavender syrup. The kind I only use for one recipe." "The one you refused to share with Harold." "The one I refused to share with anyone." The baker wiped her hands slowly on her apron. "Which is exactly why I need you to find out who else knows how to make it."