THE KEEPERS
Part 4
By Elizabeth


    "Got anything?"

    The handsome young man removed his hands from the corpse and shook his 
head. "I got nothing, sorry. Just fire."

    "Is that unusual?"

    "Yeah, it is. I should at least have an impression of the last moment of 
life. It's obvious that the victim died violently, and that's enough to leave 
at least some kind of psychic image to pick up on. But all I see is flame."

    The coroner covered the body again and smiled up into the other man's 
crystal blue eyes. "Or maybe the mighty Riley is losing his touch, did you 
ever consider that?"

    Special Investigator James Riley sneered playfully at Julia O' Ryan, M.E. 
as he shook his long, copper colored hair out of his face. "Impossible, 
Julie. I never lose a step...I can go all night long."

    The petite blonde woman chuckled merrily. "Damn you, Jimmy! Don't you 
ever mind your manners around a lady?"

    "Well, I know you're female, but unless I'm losing my mind, you never 
claimed to be a lady."

    "Doesn't matter. Just because I'm unrefined doesn't give you the right to 
be the same."

    Jim cackled raucously, the joyful sound cutting sharply through the 
somber quiet of the morgue. His thin, almost bony features slowly morphed 
from humor to gravity in a matter of moments. "Getting serious, Jules, I 
can't figure it out. You can put it in your report: Riley's hit rock bottom."

    Julia frowned, concern eating at her. Jim was not only the first 
Paranormal Abilities User to ever work for the police department, but he was 
also one of the finest psychometrists she'd ever met. If Jim couldn't read 
the energies on the corpse, then something was very wrong indeed.

    "You got a profile on this stiff?" Jim asked, looking around helplessly.

    Julia walked over to her desk nearby, removing the latex gloves from her 
hands and picked up a sheaf of papers which she brought over to Jim. "Medical 
records and all available information on the victim. Name was Chaim Witz, he 
operated a small carnival side show...fortune telling and illusion, ran it 
out of a little wooden wagon and everything."

    "Like days of yore, eh?" Jim murmured, skimming the paperwork.

    Julia nodded. "Poor old guy...he must've gotten raided by that gang on 
the outskirts of town. I never thought those petty thugs would ever stoop to 
murder."

    "You should have seen some of the shit they pulled when I was still a 
cop." he mumbled.

    Julia frowned. "You mean you were a cop before you signed on as a Special 
Investigator?"

    He nodded, glancing up briefly with a grin. "Yep. It was before you came 
on the scene. I left the department five years ago after I had a nervous 
breakdown. Shortly after I was in a motorcycle accident and spent the better 
part of thirteen months in a coma. I came out of it, but the injuries I 
suffered screwed up my head...something about 'altered brain activity,' I 
never paid much attention. I just know that when I woke up, I was able to 
read energy off of people and objects. I've been a User ever since."

    Julia frowned. "So how did you get back on the force?"

    "Well like I said, I was forced to resign when I had a nervous 
breakdown." He paused, face darkening. "I shot my own partner by mistake...he 
was my brother."

    She gasped. "Oh, Jimmy! I'm so sorry!"

    He shook himself, snorting dismissively. "Hey, it happened. Anyway, I 
wasn't able to work after that. I left the force, then had the accident. A 
buddy of mine was working on a John Doe murder case, and asked me to come 
check out the body, give my input. I did, but when I touched the corpse I was 
able to not only pick up some psychic clues, but I got a visual of the 
killer. I helped crack that case wide open, and some of my old buddies 
started vying for my reinstatement."

    "So what was the problem?"

    "My abilities are the legal equivalent of a deadly weapon...that's what 
the law says. If I were a cop, carrying a sidearm would be considered an 
excessive use of force were I to ever draw my gun. If I don't have the gun, 
though, I could sue the department for putting me at risk...legal shit, I 
can't stand it! However, this doesn't mean I can't consult. That's why they 
developed the Special Investigator title...I'm not a cop, but I have all the 
stroke of one, and can legally use my gun with no reprocussions to the 
department. I shoot someone, I answer for it. Understand better now?"

    Julia nodded, chuckling.

    Jim turned back to his papers and frowned after a brief moment. He 
carried the sheaf back over to the corpse and removed the sheet from its face 
again, peering closely into the dead features. "Now this is strange. That 
name sounded familiar, and now I know why."

    "What is it?"

    "I'm looking at this guy's personal information. Damn, I didn't think my 
record collection would ever be helpful in a murder investigation!"

    "What are you talking about, Jimmy?"

    "This guy, the name! It's an alias, the victim was using a fake I.D. and 
everything. This guy's real name is Gene...Gene Klein."

    Julia frowned. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

    "You a fan of rock 'n roll, Jules?"

    "Not a huge fan, but I like some."

    Jim gestured to the face of the corpse he had been examining. "Well, if 
you know a single thing about rock music, you'll recognize the name Gene 
Simmons, AKA Gene Klein. According to these records, this is supposed to be 
him. It matches down to the last detail."

    Julia looked down at the corpse. "Well, last time I checked Gene Simmons 
wasn't running a carnival side show gig."

    Jim frowned, reaching out to lay his hand back on the corpse's neck. 
Julia watched him close his eyes and focus. For a long time, he was silent.

    "Fire, endless flame," he murmured, eyes still shut. "All I can see is 
flame."

    Julia took her cue to quickly switch on the tape recorder near the 
autopsy table. She'd worked with Jim long enough to know that when he spoke 
during a reading, it was important to document it.

    "I don't feel heat, though...it doesn't hurt...but perhaps there's 
something behind it. If I could just get past..."

    Jim's eyes clenched shut more tightly. After a moment, a sharp gasp tore 
its way out of his mouth, followed by a yelp of pain that cut off suddenly. 
His eyes flew 
open, staring blindly ahead.

    "Jim?" Julia called carefully. "Jim, are you still here?"

    "The Elder." he whispered. "The Elder are returning...four men 
onstage...It's KISS, but why can't I sense them? Magick, there's magick in 
the music..." He paused. "My God, they hid it so well! I never knew, I never 
even suspected...but The Four, who will help The Four? The Red Dragon..."

    Jim's hand, which had been clutching the dead throat tightly, suddenly 
went limp as he slumped to the floor.

    "Jimmy?" Julia called, instantly on her knees beside the unconcious 
psychic. "Jim, wake up!"

    Julia struggled to bring Jim back to conciousness, completely oblivious 
as the corpse on the table behind her slowly got to its feet.