The bell above the door jingled as I stepped into the cozy bakery, the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries enveloping me. Miss Marple looked up from behind the counter, her eyes twinkling with a mix of warmth and curiosity. "Well, hello there. What brings you to my humble shop on this fine morning?" "Oh, you know me, can't resist your cinnamon rolls. They're my weakness." Miss Marple chuckled, "That's what they say about all my baked goods. But I have a feeling there's more on your mind than just a sweet treat." I leaned in, lowering my voice. "You heard about the murder at the B&B, didn't you?" She nodded, her expression growing serious. "Terrible business. The whole town's talking about it." "What have you heard? Any juicy gossip?" Miss Marple glanced around, making sure no one else was within earshot. "Well, I did overhear something interesting. Apparently, the victim had a heated argument with someone the night before the murder." "Really? Do you know who it was?" She shook her head. "Not yet, but I have my suspicions. I'll let you know if I find out more." I smiled, grateful for her help. "Thanks, Miss Marple. You're the best." "Don't mention it, dear. Now, how many cinnamon rolls would you like?" "Just one, please. Oh, and could you make it a dozen?" She laughed, knowing me all too well.