The bell above the door tinkled as early morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Sweet Delights Bakery, casting golden patterns across the display cases filled with fresh pastries. "Did you hear about old Mrs. Henderson's cat?" "Which one? That woman has at least seven of them." "The Persian with the squashed face. They found it in her garden shed yesterday, stiff as a board next to an empty plate of tuna." "Oh no, not Princess Buttercup! That was her favorite." "The strange thing is, Mrs. Henderson swears she never feeds her cats in the garden shed. Says she hasn't been in there for weeks." "Someone else must have lured it in there, then." "That's what I'm thinking. And here's the really odd part – they found her missing diamond brooch clutched in the cat's paw." "The one she reported stolen last month?" "The very same. Worth a fortune, apparently." "Well, well. I always thought that new gardener of hers seemed a bit shifty." "Funny you should mention him. Nobody's seen him for two days." The scent of cinnamon rolls wafted through the air as the morning's first batch emerged from the oven, but for once, the gossip was sweeter than any pastry.