The bell above the door jingled, breaking the quiet hum of the morning bakery. "Oh, you startled me! I didn't hear you come in." "Sorry about that. I was wondering if you might have heard anything more about what happened to Harold." A soft clatter of a ceramic mug against a wooden countertop. "Harold? You mean about his... accident?" "If that's what we're calling it. Those marks on his arms didn't look like any ordinary fall to me." A deep sigh. "I know. But small towns like ours, we don't like to stir up trouble. Especially not about someone as... well-connected as Harold." "Connected? He was the town council treasurer. If something suspicious happened, don't you think someone should look into it?" The sound of a pastry knife cutting through a fresh scone. "Look, I'm just saying be careful. Some secrets around here run deeper than people realize." "Are you warning me off?" A soft, knowing chuckle. "I'm just suggesting that some questions are better left unasked. Would you like another cup of coffee?" The bell jingled again, marking the end of the conversation.