As Darnies called for everyone to get down, Rebecca ducked behind the bar. Sure, ordinarily she'd stand there and take the hits- fixing up her body was old hat for her by now, and anything short of a completely destroyed skull was simple to repair. But there was a Mundane in the room, and she'd heard something about silver bullets- one of the few things that could put her down for good. Thankfully, it seemed there was only one target, but Rebecca had had enough. Things were getting too violent, and sooner or later, innocents were going to get killed.

The lich took out her cell phone and dialed 911. "This is Rebecca Fletcher. I have information about a motive for the Grayson case. I wish to speak with Detective Greenfield, alone. No tapes, no cameras. Take it or leave it."

"I will get in touch with him- you can meet him down at the station."

"Good."

She turned to the rest of the patrons. "I will not out any individual save myself, in general or specific. You have my word, and you know what it's worth. But dammit, the police need to know what they're stepping into. This is getting far too dangerous- I might be a necromancer, but the last thing I want is bodies in the streets."

She hopped into her car, an ancient mishmash of various VW Beetles, and headed for the station. Very soon, the die would be cast.