Run: 2026-10-13-01M4V1VE9MM4BKK2ESR60PCRQ2

The tiny brass bell above the door of The Flour Pot chimed, welcoming a draft of crisp autumn air into the warm, cinnamon-scented air. Behind the glass display case, rows of blueberry scones and glazed apple fritters glistened under the soft amber lights. Flour dust danced in the morning sunbeams near the heavy oak counter. "If you're here for the maple-bacon croissants, the Mayor just bought the last three." "Keep the croissants. I’m here about the missing garden gnome from Mrs. Higgins’ prized petunia patch." "You think I stole a three-foot ceramic gnome? Where would I hide it, in the sourdough starter?" "Not the gnome. The murder weapon that was tucked inside its little pointy hat." "Lower your voice! The knitting circle is at the corner table, and Barnaby’s ears are sharper than my bread knives. Besides, I only found a rusted trowel." "A rusted trowel with traces of rare belladonna on the blade. And yet, you washed it and put it in the lost-and-found basket by the espresso machine." "It looked dirty! You know I can’t abide a messy counter. Take a raspberry danish and tell me we aren't suspects." "We aren't suspects. Yet. Pass the napkins."