Rosey's Bakery was a charming little establishment, nestled in the heart of the small town of Briar Falls. With its blue awning and display case full of delicious treats, it was no surprise that it was a favorite meeting spot for the town's residents. On this particular Wednesday afternoon, two women in their sixties, both sporting colorful scarves and even more colorful personalities, sat at one of the window seats, engrossed in lively conversation. "Well, if you can believe it, I saw Agnes Preston snooping around the Williams' garden again!" The plump woman with gossip-filled eyes and a half-eaten carrot cake by her side said in a hushed, yet still-audible voice. "Oh my! What does that meddling old coot want now?" her friend asked, pausing from her butterscotch muffin long enough to give her full attention. "Well, you know that new neighbor of theirs, the one who bought the old Jenkins' place?" "The reclusive one? The one who never comes out during daylight hours?" "One and the same, dearie. I heard she's a witch!" "No!" The second woman's eyes widened, nearly tipping her teacup in her excitement. "You don't say! A witch, right here in our quiet little Briar Falls?" "As if it wasn't bad enough with the Robertsons and their unruly goats." The plump woman huffed, shaking her head solemnly. "Now, we have a witch in our midst." "What do you suppose she's up to over there, in that musty old