“No, sir, she’s not—” Gabriel looked up as I walked into the shop. “Wait. She’s here.”

I took the phone, thinking it might be Tony or Elizaveta. “This is Mercy.”

“This is John Beckworth, I’m calling from Virginia. I’m sorry, I forgot how much earlier you are than we.”

The voice was familiar, but the name was wrong. “Mr. Black?” I asked.

“Yes,” he sounded a little sheepish. “It’s Beckworth, actually. I just got off the phone with a Bran Cornick. He suggested that there is some trouble in the Tri-Cities.”

“Yes, we have something of a…situation here.” Either Adam had called Bran yesterday, or Darryl had remembered the Blacks/Beckworths...