The bell above the door jingled merrily as the newcomer entered, bringing with them the scent of autumn leaves and a hint of woodsmoke. A warm wave of cinnamon and sugar greeted them in return, swirling around their ankles like a welcome embrace. "Goodness, this place smells divine." "It's Mrs. Periwinkle's famous apple crumble, fresh out of the oven." A chuckle rippled through the air. "I can practically taste it already. And look at those scones, perfectly golden and plump." "She makes the best in the county, that's for sure. Though, I wouldn't tell her I said that. She gets a bit... competitive." "Competitive? About baking?" "Oh, very. Last year, she declared war on Mrs. Henderson over who had the best pumpkin pie. It got rather messy, let me tell you." "I can imagine. What about the murder mystery last summer? Was that Mrs. Periwinkle's doing, too?" A conspiratorial whisper followed. "Now, that's a story for another time. Perhaps with a slice of that crumble and a cup of tea?"