"Morning, Martha. The usual?" The bell above the door chimed, signaling a new customer. "Morning, Sheriff. You know it." Martha, the baker, wiped her flour-dusted hands on her apron. "How's the investigation going?" "Slow. No leads on the old mill fire. But I've got my eyes open." The sheriff leaned against the counter, eyeing the fresh pastries. "Any word from the city about the new developer?" "Haven't heard a thing. But I don't like it. Our town's just fine as it is." Martha handed him a cup of coffee. "Here you go." "Thanks. I agree, but progress is progress, I guess." He took a sip, then nodded towards the back. "Who's that new kid helping out?" "Oh, that's Jake. New in town. Quiet, keeps to himself. Good worker, though." Martha glanced back, lowering her voice. "He's got a past, but who doesn't?" The sheriff raised an eyebrow. "Anything I should know about?" "Just keep an eye on him. Something about him... I can't quite put my finger on it." Martha shrugged. "Could be nothing." "Alright, I'll keep an eye out. Thanks, Martha." The sheriff tipped his hat, taking his coffee and a pastry. "See you later." As the bell chimed again, Martha watched the sheriff go, a thoughtful expression on her face. "New in town, indeed," she murmured, turning back to her work.