Kee opened his eyes when he heard his last name. That was strange hearing his name said by his last name only. â€œJust Kee. Mr. Savenâ€™s is formal and old mannish. Just Kee.â€ He said. Attempting a shaky smile but it wavered and died out after mere moments of flickering across his lips. Or maybe it had been seconds. Whichever the case he had been trying to fake it for a few moments. He had nothing to smile about right now. The police had hit him with horror story after horror story of what could happen to him in jail. Informed him he would end up at least one somebodies bitch. That if he didnâ€™t go to jail he was going to die. All for a crime he didnâ€™t even commit. So yes that plus the sight of blood had him scared out of his very mind. He did not want to die and he did not want to go to jail when he had done nothing wrong. He would not do very well in jail. Plus being a psychic and a magic user would have him well liked or bullied or even both.<br/><br/>He focused in on what she was saying. â€œBut...but they said.â€ he said. Shaky voice and couldnâ€™t get the words out of his mouth. â€œThey said...and there is blood on my floor...Plus they said...they said...â€ He couldnâ€™t even get the words out. He was scared but forced himself to calm down some. He couldnâ€™t even look at his own hands because he had tried to heal an already dead man. How was he supposed to know it was a dead man? There had been no ghost here. He had crossed over to heaven or hell entirely by the time he got home. The guy hadnâ€™t lingered. He looked everywhere but the floor and his hands. Guy couldnâ€™t even look at his own hands. He had blood on his knees. He looked at her and nodded his head. â€œThank you.â€ He didnâ€™t need to be told twice. He darted into the back and upstairs.<br/><br/>He turned the sink on and began meticuously scrubbing his hands repeatedly with water and then soap. Trying to get the blood off his hands. He looked in the mirror instead of looking at his hands. The blood going down the drain wouldnâ€™t be as bad as the puddle downstairs. He went into the lounge room and changed into clean clothes. Taking the clothes to the fireplace and threw them in. He placed his hands over the fire. â€œFlarea.â€ He said softly. Fire shooting from his hands and lighting the clothes on fire. Soon as the fire destroyed the clothes he put it out. â€œAqueio.â€ The water left his palm and doused the fire. He then stood up and headed back downstairs. Intentionally avoiding the blood. In fact he avoided going anywhere near the puddle of blood. He stared in the fortune telling room. In fact when the female detective found me he jumped quite a bit into the air. â€œAH! Oh. Its you. Sorry. Still a little on edge from the friendly police men.â€ he said. Friendly being said in a strained sort of way.<br/><br/>He blinked at what she said. â€œOf course. The phone records for the past two months or so were on counter out there.â€ He rummaged into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Handing it to her. â€œThe voicemails he and his men have left me are on here. My voicemail box password is 1712. Let me see what else I can find.â€ He said softly. He pulled out notepad. â€œHere. This has notes of things he wanted me to do. Most using my psychic powers. He wanted me to use my tarot skills to tell him the outcomes of jobs. To help him know when cops or feds were on the way. Things like that. I wrote everything down.â€ he then went back to looking around. â€œOh the answering machine in the entrance room has most of the other messages.â€ He looked at her. â€œThey are gonna be hard to track down though. They ride on the coat tails of one of the Yazuka clans. They are trying to become one of the clans. Or so I saw in a vision.â€ He said simply. He looked around. â€œI think that is everything I can give you aside from the fact there is a mailing address to someplace that is probably a dead end on the threat note they sent me. Its in the register in the entrance room.â€<br/><br/>He looked at her. â€œSo what do I call you?â€ He asked. â€œDetective I am guessing. I really was trying to heal that man. I didnâ€™t know he was already dead for six hours. When I got here I thought I could save him despite the pool of blood beneath him.â€ He paled again as he thought about the pool of blood. â€œI am just grateful I donâ€™t have a weak stomach.â€ He went and sat down. â€œWould you like a free tarot reading Detective?â€