After tracking the woman's progress outside, I started to turn back when something near where the barista landed on the floor reflected the overhead lights. A small glass bottle with a label.
"So, your cute cat, Detective," the barista said.
I flicked my gaze to his, pretending I hadn't noticed the bottle. "Yeah?"
"Is your cat here, or did he chase after the guy who knocked me down?"
"He's chasing after him, no doubt," I lied. "It's a crime to knock baristas down."
"That it is," the barista said with a laugh. "Yikes, I've made a mess. I'll be right back to get you sugared up or sleepy. Whatever the case may be."
I tried for an innocent smile, but I was pretty sure it made me look like the hamster wheel in my brain had stopped spinning. "My sugar glands thank you."
With anothe
