"Morning, Martha. Usual order?" The bell above the door chimed, announcing a new customer. "Morning, Sheriff. Yes, please. And add a dozen of those chocolate chip cookies for the station. On the house, for all your hard work." "Appreciate it, Martha. Say, have you heard anything about old man Thompson's place? Word is, he's been asking around about some hidden treasure." "Treasure? In Bakers Hollow? Now that's a story I'd like to hear. But no, he hasn't mentioned anything to me. Maybe he's just trying to stir up some excitement." "Maybe. But keep your ears open, will you? You hear things around here that I don't." "Will do, Sheriff. Here's your coffee. Black, like your sense of humor." A chuckle echoed through the bakery. "Thanks, Martha. You're a gem."