The scent of cinnamon and warm bread enveloped Willow as she pushed open the door to "The Daily Crumb." The bell above chimed a cheerful welcome. Inside, Mrs. Henderson, a woman whose laugh lines were as plentiful as her sprinkles, was meticulously arranging a display of lemon curd tarts. “Morning, Willow! Just in time for the last of the almond croissants.” She gestured with a flour-dusted hand towards the counter. “Perfect, Mrs. Henderson. You know me too well.” “Oh, I know everyone in Buttercup Creek. Especially when they’re trying to avoid the gossip mill over a particularly flaky pastry.” “Is there something particularly flaky I should be aware of?” “Only the sudden interest in organic vegetables from our esteemed Mayor Thompson. He’s always been more of a steak and potatoes man, if you catch my drift.” “Mayor Thompson? Organic vegetables? That does sound rather… out of character.” “Precisely. And he was very keen to know where ‘Farmer McGregor’ sources his special heirloom tomatoes. After the unfortunate incident with the prize-winning gourd at the County Fair last year, I’d have thought he’d avoid McGregor entirely.” “The gourd incident? That was a scandal in itself.” “Indeed. Still not entirely clear who swapped his giant pumpkin for a butternut squash. This, however, feels different. More deliberate, somehow.” “You think something’s actually going on?” “Just that a man doesn’t suddenly develop a passion for parsnips without a reason, dear. Especially not our Mayor.”