"Not until we left the ranch. She was walking down the side of the road, about halfway between the ranch and Romeroville, when we passed her."
"Going in which direction?"
"Toward the interstate."
"Did you stop?"
"No. After what happened we didn't think Luiza wanted to talk to either of us."
"What time was that?"
"It was getting on toward dusk."
"Emmet Griffin said that Luiza never hitched rides with strangers. Did you see anyone on the road who might have given her a lift?"
"No." Richard paused for a moment.
"Well, not right away."
"What about later?"
"You know where the pavement ends as you make the turn out of Romeroville heading toward Ojitos Frios?"
"I do."
"Bernardo Barela passed me in his grandfather's pickup."
"Would that be Nestor Barela's grandson?"
"Yeah. He had another guy with him. I didn't know him."
"Did Bernardo recognize you?"
"No. We were in Nancy's new Pathfinder. Her father had just bought it for her."
"Did Luiza know Bernardo?"
"Sure."
"Would she have accepted a ride from Bernardo?"
"If she wanted to get back to the ranch before dark, she might have. I don't know."
"How well do you know Bernardo?"
"Not well. He stops by at the ranch every now and then."
"Did he ever say anything to you about Luiza?"
Richard laughed.
"Straight Hispanic dudes don't tend to talk about women with gay men."
"He knows you're gay?"
"Everybody knows." Richard stood up.
"It's who I am. I have to go now."
Reese Carson rewound his last roll of film and returned his camera to its case. The day had turned windy and a strong gust coursed down the west slope of the mountains, picked up loose top soil from the dear-cut area, and spun a dust devil up the side of the mesa. As he turned away, his wispy, baby-fine brown hair fluttered in the wind and his red-rimmed gray eyes watered.
"Allergies," Reese said ruefully to Ruth Pino as he sniffled.
"What a find you have here. It's absolutely amazing.
This is the last place I'd look for Knowlton's cactus."
"I agree," Ruth said. She wiped some dust from her own eyes and watched as her graduate students moved slowly across the dear-cut area.
The Knowlton's cactus census was complete-over eight thousand plants had been counted at the two separate sites-and now other indigenous plants were being studied and recorded.
"But if you compare soil samples, plant life, and elevation to the San Juan County preserve, it's almost a perfect ecosystem match."
"You mean it was a match," Reese replied. The devastation of the woodlands turned his stomach.
"This site is a disaster waiting to happen. And you could lose the second site when the erosion spreads down the valley."
"We have to move fast," Ruth said.
"Spring runoff in the canyon is going to wash away more of the alluvial fan." She pointed to the mesa.
"And summer storms will cut more erosion furrows down from the ridgeline. It will be a double whammy."
Reese nodded glumly in agreement.
"Protecting the site is essential," Ruth added.
"We need to restore the riparian vegetation along the streambed, reforest the woodlands, and stop the accelerated runoff."
"And fence it," Reese said.
"That's a given. Actually, we need a series of fences.
One for each site and then a perimeter fence."
"How much of a perimeter?"