Run: 2026-10-09-01M4G1PQH1JMSVKEBXPPGB25XJ

The bell above the door jingled, and cinnamon hung thick in the air. "You're late," Marigold said, sliding a tray of lemon scones onto the counter. "Third day running." "Blame the fog. Half of Pine Hollow couldn't find its own mailbox this morning." "Well, the other half came in asking about Walt Pruitt." "Did they now?" A pause. "What did you tell them?" "That he's a pastry thief and a liar, and I haven't seen him since Tuesday." Marigold wiped her hands on her apron. "Which is mostly true." "Mostly." "He came by Tuesday night. Bought the last black cherry danish and left a twenty on the counter. Said he'd be back for his change." "Walt never paid for anything in his life." "That's what worried me. I took the bill straight to the bank. Real as sunshine, but the serial number was one I'd seen before." "Where?" "On the envelope someone mailed to the sheriff last month." A long silence. The oven timer ticked. "Did he say where he was headed?" "Said he had a meeting with someone who owed him a favor. Then he asked whether the back door still sticks." "It does." "I know. I've been meaning to fix it."