The bell above the door jingled as a gust of autumn air swept into Sweetie Pie's Bakery. The aroma of cinnamon and fresh-baked bread filled the cozy space. "Well, if it isn't Nancy Drew herself! What brings our local sleuth to my humble establishment today?" "Very funny, Marge. I'm here about the missing apple pie recipe. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" "Me? Heavens, no! I've got my hands full with my own recipes. Why would I need Agatha's?" "Because it won the blue ribbon at the county fair three years running. That's quite the feather in a baker's cap." "Are you accusing me of something, missy?" "Not at all. I'm just following the crumbs, so to speak." "Well, you can take your crumbs elsewhere. I've got cookies to frost." "Before I go, one last question. Where were you last Tuesday evening around 8 PM?" "I was right here, closing up shop. Ask old Mr. Jenkins next door. He always waves goodbye when I leave." "Thanks, Marge. I'll do that. Oh, and I'll take a dozen of those snickerdoodles while I'm here." "Coming right up, detective. That'll be $6.50."