The scent of freshly baked bread and pastries wafted through the air as Bethany arranged a tray of golden brown apples pies on the counter. The bell above the door jingled, signaling a customer. "Hey there! Fresh batch of apple pies just came out of the oven. Smell that aroma?" "Swoon-worthy as always, Bethany. You're a real artist. Er, craftswoman. Well, a true professional, anyway." "Oh, you can just say baker. And you're here for your usual?" "You know me too well. I swear my stomach has a second sense that tells it when your pies hit the counter. What's the gossip around town?" "Well, Donna's daughter finally proposed to her boyfriend at Ray's Cafe last night!" "No! How romantic!" "Too sweet! I heard it took him fourteen years!" "Fourteen?! He certainly believes in taking his time!" "Donna's not complaining, let's put it that way. Anyway, it got me wondering when we'll see one of our own proposals in this town. What with the annual wedding coming up and all." "Haha, miss 'dare make eye contact too long or you'll end up engaged round here." "You're probably right! Say, what's the count for the wedding cake looking like as of now?" "Twenty-seven so far, and we've still got a month before the big event. Mark my words, this is going to be the wedding of the century for Bridgetown!" "I do hope so. It's bound to bring in a rush of people. Could be good for business." "You never know. A little mystery never hurts tourism either, right?" "Please, you and your murder mysteries. I'm just here for the pies. And a little friendly chat, of course!" "Of course. One caramel apple pie for you, minus a pie piece, my friend."