The sweet aroma of freshly baked croissants wafted through the cozy bakery, enticing the sleepy town to start its day. Behind the counter, a lively discussion unfolded. "I'm telling you, it's fishy. Old Man Jenkins doesn't just up and leave without telling anyone." "Oh, don't be dramatic. He probably just needed a break from the gossipmongers. This town can be suffocating." "Suffocating? You're the one who's been acting strange, always sneaking around with that notebook of yours." "Just research for my...writing project. Don't mind me." "Uh-huh. And I'm the Queen of England. You're investigating something, aren't you? Is it related to Jenkins' disappearance?" "No comment. But I did hear his bakery rival, Madame LeRoux, was seen arguing with him at the town fair last week." "Madame LeRoux? That woman would kill for a superior soufflé recipe. Maybe we should pay her a little visit...after our pastry fix, of course." A tray of golden-brown scones emerged from the oven, and the debaters eagerly dug in, momentarily halting their speculation.