The small town bakery was alive with the aroma of fresh bread and pastries. Two elderly ladies sat at a corner table, sipping their tea and enjoying the treat of the day—a generous slice of lemon meringue pie. One of the women leaned forward, her eyes wide. "Did you hear about Mrs. Jenkins? She found a body in her greenhouse this morning." The other woman gasped. "Good heavens! Who could it be?" "Nobody seems to know yet. But I hear the police are investigating. Maybe it's that new guy who moved in last week." "Oh, the quiet one with the black beard?" "Yes, that's him. Some folks think he looks suspicious. But I'm not so sure. He seems nice enough." The ladies exchanged knowing glances. They had seen their fair share of mysteries in their time, and they enjoyed nothing more than a good whodunit. "Well, we should keep our ears open," the first woman suggested. "Who knows what we might hear?" "Absolutely," her friend agreed. "We wouldn't want to miss out on all the excitement." They both giggled, finishing their tea and pie as they chatted about the town's latest development. And as they left the bakery and ventured out into the sunny day, they knew that they had just become unofficial detectives in the making. As they walked down the street, the ladies exchanged whispers and speculations, their curiosity piqued by the mysterious death in town. They knew that they had a story to uncover, and they would not rest until they had solved the case—all in the name of a cozy mystery.