Khloe couldn't believe it.
Was it really Kourtney?
How was it possible?
So many questions, yet she feared the answers.
Kourtney was long gone, as Khloe sat staring in shock.
There was no particular emotion.
Just confusion.
Everything felt like a bad dream.
She even pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
Khloe began dialing 9-1-1, but lingered on the first number.
How would she explain this to the police?
She wasn't quite sure what had happened and didn't want to jump to any conclusions.
First thing was first.
She rang the Kardashians private doctor who signed Kourtney's death certificate.
Time was no importance to her.
Which threw her for a loop, when the doctors wife answered, and blew her off.
Kholoe wouldn't take this lying down.
So she got in her car and tore through Beverly Hills.
She arrived at the doctors Malibu mansion, hours later.
The family refused to buzz her in, so she pleaded her case with the doctor through their intercom.
The doctor had learned to distance himself from the family, due to other big name clients who looked down on the reality family.
In California, everyone put themselves first, so it was no surprise when he dropped the family from his roster to better his business.
Khloe insisted on the urgency to view Kourtney's file and refused to leave without it.
To avoid the public scrutiny he would no doubt receive if the press arrived, he followed suite by slipping the file through the gate.
Khloe couldn't thank him enough, as she raced home hoping to crack this case.
On her way home, she noticed a police checkpoint.
Police cars stopped oncoming traffic to question passing drivers.
Shining their light in her eyes, they followed protocol.
They explained that a drunk driver had already swerved off the road, leaving tire tracks in the neighborhood.
A DUI check point was set up per the communities request to ensure the safety of others.
Recognizing Khloe, he asked her to step out of the car.
Realizing his arrogance, she refused.
The cop demanded more forcefully, but Khloe hadn't done anything wrong.
She resisted the arrest, which only made things worse.
Taken in to custody, she was forced from her vehicle and thrown against the hood of her car.
The cop patted her down, slightly molesting her in the process, before cuffing her.
They searched the vehicle, as she violently thrashed in the back seat of the police vehicle.
Discrimination, Khloe thought, adding another strike on her imperfect record.
At the station, the police chief exacted his revenge against her tirades.
He was hoping by keeping her in custody that she would finally drop the Riddlers Puzzle case and regain some sort of normality.
But Khloe wasn't taking it lying down.
She had contemplated sharing the information about Kourtney to the police, but realized the family was officially on their own.
So she did what the Kardashians do best.
Bent reality, by acting.
Many hours later, and a hefty bail, Khloe saw the light of day.
She vowed never to return to the station again.
The only people she could depend on, were family.
Gathering her belongings from security she had noticed her file on Khloe was empty.
She argued with the guard who re-checked the storage facility.
Demanding to be heard, she took a stand against the police, but the guard warned her not to cross the chief.
The guard told her to take it up with the boss, then slipped her a matchbook.
It was from The Beverly Hilton.
He nervously closed his window on Khloe before she could ask any questions.
Exiting the station, she followed her instincts to The Beverly Hilton.
She slipped into the bar, which was fairly empty and ordered a vodka martini.
The bartender nodded and disappeared.
In his place stood Richard Hilton, father of the Hiltons drinking a glass of scotch.
Your business is unwelcome here, Rick told her.
Never one to back down, Khloe slapped Kourtney's empty file on the bar, sliding it to him.
I want it back, she chimed, taking the scotch from his hand and drinking from the glass.
I'm afraid I can't help you with that, is all he replied, before Khloe threw the remaining contents in his face.
Sooner or later, I'm going to connect the dots, she snarled storming out of the hotel.
Her drive home, she noticed two black SUV's following far behind her.
She drove in circles, hoping to lose them, but they tailed even closer.
Khloe drove to Mulholland, hoping to outrun them with the twists and turns.
The SUV's didn't maneuver as well.
She sped through the obstacle course, rising higher and higher in the hills.
Adrenaline surged through her body as she peeled around corners, barely missing oncoming traffic.
One of the SUV's became involved in a deadly collision, while the other followed even closer to Khloe.
She had one last trick up her sleeve as she turned a tight corner.
Khloe fish tailed her car at a lookout point racing toward the SUV.
Seconds before the crash she ejected herself from the drivers side door, rolling toward the edge of the hill.
The SUV collided with her BMW, and glided off the road.
It took her a second to regain normal breathing.
The wind had been knocked out of her, and she was shocked to be alive.
She had never done anything like this before.
And wondered who could have been in those SUV's.
Cars stopped to marvel at the crash.
Khloe had to escape before anyone recognized her.
She covered her face with some hair and blended in to the crowd.
She walked along Mulholland toward the first crash.
They extracted a bloody body, she barely recognized.
It was a young boy.
Her brother Rob.
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