Run: 2026-10-13-01M4TBZZVD0KF39XBGCD7ZDRWY

The cinnamon rolls were barely out of the oven when the bell over the door of Flour & Fancy jingled, letting in a gust of October rain. "You heard about Mr. Abernathy, then." "Everyone's heard. Found behind the library at dawn. Poor man." "Poor man, my foot. He was about to sell the mill to those developers." "That doesn't mean someone killed him." "Doesn't it? The coroner says heart attack. I say convenient timing." "You say a lot of things before your coffee." "And you have flour on your nose again. Listen—he was in here yesterday. Ordered a blueberry scone and argued with someone on the phone the whole time." "Argued about what?" "A deed, I think. He kept saying, 'Tuesday changes everything.' Well, Tuesday's come and gone, hasn't it?" "Who was on the other end?" "That's the question. Oh—and he left this." A napkin, folded twice, slid across the marble counter, an address scrawled in pencil. "You're not thinking of going there." "I'm thinking the scones can wait." "At least take the banana bread. If you insist on snooping, snoop fed." Outside, thunder grumbled over the rooftops, and the oven timer chimed like a small, insistent warning.