Run: 2026-11-11-01M7545HXQZ4ZP5NM7GPXJ846V

The bell over the door tinkled at dawn in Honeycrust Bakery, rain dripping from the awning outside. The smell of cinnamon rolls and old books hung in the warm air, and the display case gleamed under the morning lights. "You're early." "I couldn't sleep." "Neither could I. Did you look at it again?" "Three times. Mrs. Abernathy would never have bought two tickets to Portland and not told anyone." "Unless she was planning to run away." "At eighty-four? With her bad knee?" "Mystery's a funny thing. It makes the quietest people seem like they've been living double lives." "Do you think the tin of shortbread is still in her kitchen?" "If it is, I hope there's a note in it." "And if there isn't?" "Then we start over. With you, me, and a fresh batch of those rolls that solved the last case." "You mean bribed the last case." "Same thing in Willow Creek." A laugh rose, and two coffees were set on the counter beside a plate of warm muffins, steaming from the oven and smelling of honey. Outside, the town was waking up, and for the first time since the funeral, the secret didn't feel quite so heavy.