Run: 2026-10-13-01M4TAGS9P5NK3CBPFGC4PQEJK

The bell above the door at Honeycrumb Bakery chimed as flour dust drifted through the late-morning light, settling over trays of cinnamon rolls and a suspiciously empty display case. "You moved the lemon tarts again." "I did not move the lemon tarts. Someone ate the lemon tarts." "There were twelve at nine o'clock." "And now there are four, which proves my point about someone with excellent taste and no self-control." "The register was short eight dollars, too." "Maybe the tart thief pays in compliments instead of cash. Mrs. Abernathy did call them heavenly." "She also hasn't left the library since Tuesday, so unless she can walk through walls—" "Small towns have produced stranger talents. Remember the mayor's disappearing parking tickets?" "That was different. That was a shredder." "Exactly. Always a perfectly ordinary explanation, if you look under the counter." "Is that a confession or a crumb trail?" "Those are croissant flakes. Completely innocent croissant flakes." "They lead straight to the office where someone hid the delivery list, the spare key, and—" "A profound misunderstanding about inventory?" "Or the missing recipe card for these very tarts." "Ah. Then perhaps we should follow the flakes before the trail goes cold."