The sweet aroma of freshly baked croissants wafted through the air, mingling with the hum of conversation in the bustling bakery. At the counter, a plate of assorted pastries gleamed, enticing the morning crowd. "I heard it was a robbery gone wrong. That's why Old Man Jenkins was found dead in the alley." "Don't be ridiculous, it was just his heart giving out. He was what, 80 years old?" "Eighty-two, and still kicking. But I'm telling you, I saw something suspicious lurking around his shop last night. A tall, dark figure, sneaking around after hours." "That's just the windmill outside casting shadows. You're just trying to stir up trouble." "Trouble? I'm just trying to get to the truth! You know as well as I do that Jenkins had a lot of secrets up his sleeve. And now, with him gone, who's going to tell us what really happened?" The baker expertly assembled a tray of muffins, her eyes darting between the two speakers, her expression neutral. The coffee machine gurgled and spat out a final stream of brew, breaking the tense silence. "You're going to get yourself in trouble, mark my words."