"So, do you have any idea who might have killed him?" The tone was low and conspiratorial, and both women leaned in close, their voices hushed against the background murmur of the bakery. "Well, let's see," the other replied, taking a sip of her coffee. "There's always been talk about that newcomer, you know, the one who opened the antique shop down the street?" "Really? I thought he seemed quite harmless, always interested in chatting about the history of the town." "Just because he seems harmless doesn't mean he isn't capable of violence. And besides, he's got a bit of a shady past, rumored to have some unsavory connections." "I guess you never can tell," the first woman mused, taking a bite of her scone. "But it's a small town. Wouldn't we have heard something by now?" "Not necessarily," the second replied. "Small towns are full of secrets. Maybe no one wants to talk." As they finished their pastries, they glanced around, half expecting to see someone listening in on their conversation. But the bakery was still bustling with the usual early morning crowd, oblivious to their hushed exchange.