A soft bell jingled as the bakery door swung open, carrying the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and vanilla. “Morning, Eleanor! The usual?” “Please, and make it snappy. I think I’ve misplaced the church keys again. Reverend Martin might have my head.” “Where did you last have them?” “I swear, they were in my pocket when I left here yesterday. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if little Timothy snagged them. That boy’s a menace.” “Ha! Timothy? A menace? Sounds like someone’s projecting. Maybe it's time you added those keys to your necklace of mysteries.” “Very funny. You know, if the bishop finds out I lost them again…” “Relax, Eleanor. It happens. Besides, I’ve got a theory.” “Oh? Enlighten me, Miss ‘I-solve-mysteries-in-a-bakery’.” “Why, thank you for the title. Picture this: you leave with a baguette in one hand, coffee in the other—” “And?” “—you set the keys on the counter to pay. Timothy’s eyes light up. He distracts you with his magic tricks at the door.” “I remember that now! He wanted to show me how he could make a coin disappear.” “And then, while you're occupied, he claims his prize.” “My keys. That little scamp!” “Calm down, Eleanor. Sit. I'll get you a cinnamon roll while we plan our heist.”