But first, she opened her office door and threw a muffin at her chief deputy, nailing him on the back of the head. He spun around in his chair and gaped at her. “That could’ve been a grenade,” she said, shaking her head at him. He ended his call and stood to follow her out. “Why would someone throw a grenade inside the station?” “No idea, but you have to stay vigilant and alert at all times. If that had been a real grenade, we would never make it to Tía Juana’s in time for fresh sopas.”
