Run: 2026-10-09-01M4G0NTVH6D20GPAT7QD3JG8T

"You're early," Mabel said, not looking up from the tray of cinnamon rolls. "Nobody's early on a Tuesday." "Couldn't sleep. Kept thinking about the ledger." "Which ledger?" "The one in your back office. The one you told the sheriff you'd never seen." A pause. The rolling pin stopped. "You went through my things?" "I went through the flour bins, which is where you hid the envelope. Cash, Mabel. Three thousand dollars, marked with the bank's stamp." "Keep your voice down. Ruth's due any minute." "Ruth isn't the one who should be nervous." "Fine. Yes. I took it. Harold was going to sell the place out from under us. Nobody would have missed a little." "Harold's dead, Mabel." "I know he's dead. I'm the one who found him, remember?" "That's exactly what I can't stop thinking about. You found him at six, and the oven timer went off at six-fifteen, and you were already frosting." The bell over the door jingled. Neither of them moved. "Morning, ladies," a voice called. "Smells divine in here." "Coffee's fresh, Sheriff," Mabel said, very brightly. "Have a seat. We were just talking."