"Why not?"
Sara placed her fork on the edge of her plate.
"I'm not the wife type."
"You're sure of that?"
Sara picked up her fork and then placed it back on the plate.
"I don't know if I'm sure of anything anymore."
"That's promising."
"You think so?"
"Do you care for Kerney?"
"I feel more connected to him than any man I've ever known."
Susie shook her head and her chestnut hair covered her eyes. She brushed it away and grinned.
"Jesus, Sara.
Listen to yourself."
"I guess I'm confused."
"Finally, we're getting somewhere," Susie said.
"Eat your dinner."
Ruth Pino removed her reading glasses, rubbed the bridge of her nose with a thumb, closed her notebook, and glanced at her wristwatch.
Dinnertime had come and gone, and by now her ever tolerant husband had their two boys bathed and ready for bed.
The morning's chance encounter with Nestor Barela had turned out to be serendipitous. He had guided Ruth and her team to another site in the narrow valley away from the alluvial fan, where a large, undisturbed colony of Knowlton's cactus thrived. The sight of it nearly made Ruth shiver with delight.
She had no classes to teach tomorrow and would be back in the valley at first light with her graduate students.
There was an incredible amount of mapping and census taking yet to be done.
To protect the plants adequately a good square mile of land, perhaps more, would be needed for a preserve. Although he had no legal responsibility to do so, Mr. Barela had volunteered to supply all the fencing material to temporarily protect the two separate sites.
She would tell Kevin Kerney about Barela's generosity the next time they spoke.
Ruth reached for her address book, and dialed Reese Carson's home telephone in Santa Fe. Reese handled all land protection programs for the New Mexico Nature Conservancy.
"Reese, Ruth Pino. I thought you might like to come up to Las Vegas tomorrow for the day."
Reese groaned.
"Is this another last-minute plea to get me to lecture to your undergraduates?"
"No, I've found something I think you might like to see."
"Don't keep me hanging, Ruth. Tell me what you've got that would be worth my time."
"Knowlton's cactus," Ruth said with a smile as she settled back in her chair.
"You're joking."
"Outside San Geronimo."
"You're serious."
"Completely."
"Jesus, you know what you've got?"
"You bet I do."
Gabe turned off the shower, dried himself quickly, pulled on a pair of jeans and a lightweight sweatshirt, and slipped his feet into a pair of shower dogs.
A full day of fieldwork hadn't gotten him anywhere.
He had half a mind to confront Joaquin Sandstevan directly and put the squeeze on him about Rudy Espinoza. What held Gabe back was the nagging idea that Boaz hadn't been killed simply to cover up the wood theft. There had to be more to it than that. For now, he would keep digging and let Sanristevan think he had nothing to worry about.
As Gabe walked downstairs he decided to follow up on Angle Romero's interesting tidbit about Joaquin's involvement with another woman during his separation from his wife. He found Orlando at the kitchen table looking through his open briefcase.
"What are you doing?" Gabe snapped.
Orlando closed the briefcase and turned to face his father.
"Nothing."
"You know better than to mess with my stuff."
"Sorry. I was just…"
"Just what?"
"Interested, that's all."
Gabe pulled the briefcase off the table and studied his son. Orlando kept his eyes glued on the tabletop.
"You shot Rudy Espinoza," Orlando said.