The warm scent of freshly baked croissants enveloped the cozy bakery, where the soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of cups filled the air. "I'm telling you, it's suspicious. First, the Wilsons' garden gnome goes missing, then the Jones' dog gets loose, and now Mrs. Jenkins' famous apple pie recipe is stolen?" "Oh, come on. It's just small-town mischief. Kids being kids, probably." "But what about the note? 'You'll never taste the sweetness of victory'? That's not your average prankster talk." "Maybe it's just someone trying to sound clever. Besides, Mrs. Jenkins is always going on about how her pie is the best in the county. Maybe someone just wanted to take her down a peg." "Down a peg? By stealing her life's work? That's not just mean, that's...that's...diabolical!" "Diabolical? Really? It's just a pie recipe. Although..." (pauses, eyeing a nearby tray) "those do look like Mrs. Jenkins' famous flaky crusts..."