The sweet scent of freshly baked croissants wafted through the air as the morning sunlight streamed through the bakery's front window. Inside, the warmth was palpable, both in temperature and atmosphere. Two women stood behind the counter, busily preparing the day's offerings. "I'm telling you, something fishy is going on with Monsieur LaRue's sudden disappearance." "Oh, don't be dramatic. He probably just took off on a wild hare, like he's always doing." "But what about the mess left in his patisserie? Flour and sugar everywhere, not to mention the shattered remains of that exquisite croquembouche. The poor man would never leave his kitchen in such disarray." "Well, perhaps he had an unexpected visitor who startled him. You know how skittish he can be." "Skittish? That's one word for it. I think 'paranoid' is a better fit. Remember when he thought someone was stealing his recipes?" "That was just a misunderstanding... or maybe a clever marketing ploy. The shop's been packed ever since the rumors started." A customer walked in, chiming the bell above the door, and the conversation halted as the women turned to greet the newcomer with a warm smile and the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked goods.