The scent of cinnamon and yeast filled the air, a warm blanket against the morning chill. “Another one? I swear you’re single-handedly keeping my business afloat.” “It’s for research. A crucial part of my investigation.” “Your investigation into who ate the last donut?” “No. Into why my prize-winning rose bush suddenly has black spot. I’m convinced it’s sabotage.” “Sabotage? In Willow Creek? Mildred, the only thing being sabotaged around here is my waistline, thanks to you.” “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a targeted attack. Someone is jealous.” “Jealous of your roses? Or your ability to consume a dozen lemon tarts in one sitting?” “Very funny. But you haven’t seen the neighbor’s new fertilizer. It’s a suspicious shade of blue.” “And I suppose you think he’s using it to… what? Poison your prize petunias?” “Roses. And yes. The man is a menace. I’m building a case.” “A case you’re going to present to the garden club, I presume?” “Of course. Justice will be served. Now, are you going to wrap this up, or do I have to eat it here and provide you with an alibi?”