She’d taken a few days off work, blaming the migraine that had hit in the middle of the night. She wasn’t sure if the headache was the root of her problems, or if the root of her problems caused the migraine. No matter which was the case, she’d hurt from her head to her toes. She had tried to drive to Antelope Springs Police Department three times since the incident, and she just couldn’t do it. How could thirty miles seem as difficult as crossing the Grand Canyon? She’d felt like an idiot, flirting with Dallas, when he had not been doing the same. She just couldn’t bring herself to face him or answer his calls. She had phoned the precinct to ask if she could fax a statement to them, but that wasn’t allowed. They felt the officer filing the report would want to ask her a few questions. Great. She had considered asking one of her brothers for his help, but then she’d have to tell him why. She couldn’t do that.
