Run: 2026-11-11-01M754KHZX4GP91X1TGNCCNDRR

The bell over the door tinkled as early light spilled across the glass case of blueberry scones. "You're early." "Couldn't sleep. Not with half the town asking about Fern's keys." "Found them in the flour bin?" "Under the counter, sticky with honey. Somebody tossed them there on purpose." "Who'd do that?" "Whoever didn't want her opening up at five." "She was supposed to bake for the Harvest Fair committee this morning." "Exactly. And now her oven's cold, her ledger's gone, and the spare key's missing from the hook." "Did you see anyone last night?" "Only Old Tom walking his dog past the alley. Said he heard a thump around back, like a crate dropping." "A crate? We don't get deliveries on Tuesdays." "Unless it wasn't a delivery." "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" "I'm thinking Fern didn't just forget to come in. I'm thinking someone wanted the bakery empty." "Then we'd better check if her back door lock was forced." "It wasn't. That's the curious part. Whoever it was, they had a key." "You mean someone she trusted." "That's what worries me. Small towns keep secrets warm, just like these rolls. You want one? On the house, until Fern's home to fuss." "I'll take two. For luck."