The aroma of vanilla and cinnamon wafted through Sweet Nothings Bakery as the early morning light filtered through the windows, casting golden rectangles across the polished wooden floor. "Did you hear about old Mrs. Pendleton? Found face-down in her prize-winning rose garden yesterday evening." "No! You can't be serious." A rolling pin paused mid-roll, sending a small cloud of flour into the air. "Serious as shortbread. Sheriff thinks it wasn't an accident either. Gardening shears right beside her, but not a speck of dirt on them." "That's the third suspicious death this month. First the librarian, then the mail carrier, now Mrs. Pendleton." "All longtime residents who served on the town council in '85." "That can't be a coincidence." "Exactly what I was thinking." The bell above the door jingled as a customer entered. Both women fell silent, exchanging meaningful glances. "Morning, Mayor. Your usual cinnamon twist?" "Please. Terrible business about Harriet Pendleton." "Just awful. Cream cheese frosting today?" "Perfect. You know, she was going to reveal something at the historical society meeting tonight. Said it would 'change everything we know about this town.'" "Was she now? How... interesting."