"Did you hear about Mrs. Thompson's cat?" "Her cat? No, what happened?" "Gone missing. Just vanished. She swears it was stolen." "Stolen? In this town? Who would steal a cat?" "That's what I said. But you know Mrs. Thompson, always jumping to conclusions." "True. Remember when she thought the mailman was a spy?" "How could I forget? Poor Mr. Jenkins. He still avoids her house." "Well, I hope she finds her cat. It's been a rough year for her." "Yeah, first the garden gnomes, now this. It's like she's cursed." "Speaking of curses, did you see the new sign outside the antique shop?" "No, what does it say?" "Closed for investigation. Apparently, some of the items were stolen." "Stolen? In this town? That's the second time today I've heard that word." "Strange, isn't it? First the cat, now the antiques. Makes you wonder." "Wonder what?" "If there's a connection. Maybe someone new in town?" "Or someone old with new intentions." "Like who?" "Well, I did see Mr. Grayson lurking around the bakery last night." "Mr. Grayson? But he's harmless. Just a bit eccentric." "Maybe. Or maybe he's hiding something." "Guess we'll have to keep our eyes open. This town's getting interesting." "Too interesting for my taste. I just want my morning muffin in peace." "Good luck with that. Seems like peace is the one thing we can't find."