I stiffened. I’d been expecting Dad, figuring he’d just forgotten to factor in the time difference. We alternated calling each other every other day, even if only for a few minutes, and I’d forgotten last night.

“It’s bad. Seven dead, and the shooter’s holed up in a pub, threatening to kill more hostages, and himself. Sound like the kind of crime you wanted me to tell you about?”

“Yes.” Himself, Jayne had said. The shooter was a man, which meant I’d missed whatever crime the woman who’d picked it up the night I’d been watching had committed, and the Book had already moved on. I wondered how many times it had changed hands since. I would search back issues of newspapers for clues. I needed all the information I could get, to try to understand the Dark Book, in hopes of anticipating its future moves.

The line went dead. He’d done what he’d promised and no more. I stared down at my cell phone, trying to figure out how to get rid of Barrons.

“Why was Jayne calling you at this hour?” he said softly. “Have you been inducted as an honorary member of the Garda since they last arrested you?”

I glanced over my shoulder with disbelief. He was standing at the opposite end of the room, and the volume on my phone was set to low. Maybe he’d picked up on the tones of the inspector’s voice from that distance, but there was no way he’d heard any of the details. “Funny,” I said.

“What aren’t you telling me, Ms. Lane?”

“He said he thinks he might have a lead on my sister’s case.” It was a weak lie, but the first that came to mind. “I have to go.” I reached behind the counter, grabbed my backpack, tossed in my MacHalo, strapped on my shoulder holster, transferred my spear from my boot to beneath my arm, then slid into a jacket and headed for the back door. I would get the Viper and drive to Fourth and Langley as fast as I could. If the shooter was still at the scene, the Sinsar Dubh would be, too. If the shooter was already dead by the time I got there, I’d drive up and down the streets and alleys in the immediate vicinity, ranging outward in a tight pattern, waiting for a tingle.

“The fuck he did. He said Fourth and Langley. Seven dead. Why do you care?”

What kind of monster had ears like that? Couldn’t I have gotten a half-deaf one? Scowling, I continued toward the door.

“You will stop right there, and tell me where you’re going.”