The bell above the door jingled as she entered, the scent of freshly baked bread and cinnamon filling the air. "Good morning, Mrs. Thompson!" "Oh, good morning, dear. How's that grandson of mine? Still causing trouble at school?" "Only the usual, I'm afraid. But he's a bright boy, just needs a bit of direction." "That's my boy. What can I get you today?" "I'll take a dozen of your famous cinnamon rolls, please. And maybe a loaf of that new rye bread you mentioned." "Coming right up. You know, I heard some gossip about old Mr. Benson down the street. Seems he's missing again." "Not again. What do they think happened this time?" "No one knows for sure. But you know how it is around here, everyone's got a theory." "I suppose I'll find out soon enough. Everyone talks to me at the library." "That's true. Well, here you go. A dozen cinnamon rolls and a loaf of rye. Anything else?" "No, that'll do it. Thanks, Mrs. Thompson. Have a lovely day." "You too, dear. And keep an eye on that grandson of mine, will you?" "Always."