The bell above the door jingled as a gust of cold air swept in, carrying with it the scent of fallen leaves. A warm, golden light spilled over the counter, where a display of freshly baked pastries glistened under the spotlight. "Looks like you made it just in time. I was about to lock up," a voice said, the tone laced with relief. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Anything good today?" "The apple turnovers are to die for. I added a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg. Try one?" There was a pause, the sound of papers shuffling, followed by the gentle thud of a pastry being placed on a paper napkin. "Perfection. You have a gift, you know that?" "Flattery will get you everywhere. How’s the case coming along?" "It’s moving, but slow. I can’t help feeling like I’m missing something. Maybe I need a fresh perspective." "Ever thought about asking for help? Sometimes a new pair of eyes can see what you’ve overlooked." "I suppose. But who?" "Think about it over a cup of tea. On the house." "Thanks. I might just do that."