At the counter of the cozy bakery in the heart of town, two women stood chatting amiably. "Isn't it sweet," one woman said, gazing at the basket of fluffy, buttery pastries. "Mm-hm," her companion replied, sipping her coffee slowly. "Nothing beats a good blueberry scone first thing in the morning." The chatter turned to the recent murder case in town. "The police are still investigating," the first woman said, her voice tinged with dismay. "Those scenarios they're considering, one of them just can't be true!" "Aye," her friend nodded, lips pursing thoughtfully. "But the human mind is full of twists. We must support Detective Frost in uncovering the truth." "Won't be long now," the first woman insisted, a note of optimism in her voice. "Bet you by Christmas we'll see a different suspect, and a resolution." "Mm-hm," her companion said. "Just remember the bouquet we ordered with the cryptic note? It still hasn't shown up. That could be our next clue." "It will," the first woman said, a sense of certainty in her voice. "It's coming." They both looked out into town, filled with a sense of anticipation for the unraveling mystery, and the possibilities it would bring.