All during the examination in the emergency room, and later at the station as she completed her report, those four words played in her mind as if stuck on repeat. What was Kristos Kilsgaard? The doctor had given her a clean bill of health, so it hadn’t been a knock to the head that made her see a lone man lift a refrigerator-size boulder and toss her into the air as if she were a Hail Mary shot before the buzzer in the Final Four Tournament. She could attribute the day’s experience to stress, or lack of sleep, or it was dark and she missed her morning cup of coffee, but no, that wasn’t true either. So where did that leave her? Brett rubbed the heel of her hand into her eye to try to alleviate the throbbing headache caused by constant thinking. Not even the hot shower and clean change of clothes she grabbed in her office gave her perspective. Her house keys felt as if they weighed ten pounds and it took two tries to fit the correct one in the lock and push open the door to her little two-bedroom rambler.
