"I'm telling you, it was the wrong move," Emily said, her hands on her hips as she watched as Ryan poured another tray of freshly baked scones into the display case. "We can't reopen the door until the police say it's safe to do so." "What makes you think it's not?" Ryan asked, wiping his flour-dusted hands on his apron. "The new delivery of shipments on Wednesday was suspicious, if I recall." "Suspicious doesn't quite fit," Emily conceded. "At least, not when we asked the manager about the package. He seemed more like he was hiding something." The kitchen was quiet, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Emily's eyes locked onto Ryan's, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, without a word, Ryan picked up the counter and dials the phone on his back. "I think it's time we invited the team to the bakery. Meet you at the diner downtown in 10, shall we?" Emily's jaw clenched, a small map spread out on the counter between them.