Karma laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. “You’re weird, Barn.”

Karma stopped wiping. She set the glass down. She leaned forward, her face a mask of profound, professional concern. “How much?”

Chet lunged. It was not a strategic lunge. He tripped over a box of single-use ramekins and went sprawling. The aquarium net flew from his hand. In that split second, Barn saw his chance. He didn’t go for Chet. He went for Reginald.

“Freeze, shrimp-napper!” a voice squeaked.