The bell above the door chimed as flour dust danced in the morning sunlight streaming through the bakery windows. Behind the counter, sugar cookies cooled on wire racks while the scent of cinnamon filled the air. "I heard you found Margaret's recipe box yesterday." "Word travels fast around here. Yes, it was tucked behind the old mixing bowls in the storage room. Poor thing must have forgotten it when she moved out." "Forgotten? Margaret never forgot anything, especially her grandmother's recipes. That woman could recite ingredients in her sleep." "Well, what else would you call it? The box has been sitting there for three weeks." "I'd call it suspicious. Margaret was planning to open her own shop across town, remember? Those recipes were her ticket to competing with this place." "You think she left them on purpose?" "I think someone wanted her to leave them. Did you notice the lock was broken?" "I just assumed it was old." "Margaret showed me that box last month. The lock worked perfectly fine." The mixing bowl clattered against the counter as hands stilled. Outside, the town square bustled with its usual morning routine, oblivious to the mystery brewing inside the Sweet Spot Bakery.