The bell above the bakery door chimed as flour dust danced in the morning sunlight streaming through gingham curtains. Behind the glass case filled with golden croissants and berry scones, a conversation buzzed with tension. "I'm telling you, something's not right about Mrs. Henderson's fall down those library steps yesterday." "Oh, come now. She's eighty-three and wore those ridiculous heels to the town council meeting. Accidents happen." "But did you see the way Mayor Collins looked when they carried her out? Almost... relieved?" "That's a terrible thing to say. He was probably just shaken up like the rest of us." "Maybe. But don't forget she was the only one opposing his development plan for the old Miller property. Very convenient timing, if you ask me." "You're letting that mystery novel club go to your head again." "Am I? Because I also noticed fresh scratches on the library's back door this morning when I delivered the coffee cake order. Door was unlocked too." "Now you've got my attention. Mrs. Henderson always locks up tight as a drum." "Exactly. Pass me that raspberry tart, would you? I think we need to pay the mayor a visit."