you’re studying botany?” Maybe sensing her uneasiness, he smoothly changed the subject.
“Environmental science. And to answer your next question, which I know from experience is, ‘What do you do with a master’s degree in environmental science?’ I’ll probably end up teaching ungrateful undergrads somewhere. But all that is just to support the research I want to do into developing medicines from plants.”
“You mean, like herbal remedies and stuff?”
“I mean, like cancer drugs and medicine to cure Parkinson’s or diabetes. Plants are a tremendous resource we’ve scarcely begun to explore.”
“So there are plants in this park that can cure diseases?” He motioned to the scrubby landscape around them.
“This might look like desert to you, but there are hundreds of plants within the park and surrounding public lands. It’s the perfect place for my research.”
“A big change from the war,” he said.
“Everything is a big change from the war,” she said. “Didn’t you feel it, after you came home? That sense of not knowing what to do next? Of being a little out of place? Or was that just me?”
“It wasn’t just you,” he said. “Every day over there you had a mission—a purpose. Life over here isn’t like that.” He stared at the road ahead for a long moment, then added, “I thought about going back to school after I got out, but sitting in a classroom all day—that wasn’t for me.”
She shifted toward him, feeling more comfortable scrutinizing him for a change. He was good-looking—no doubt about that—with dark eyes and olive skin and a hawk nose and square chin. His broad shoulders filled out his short-sleeved tan shirt nicely, and slim-fit khakis showed off muscular thighs. “How did you end up working for border patrol?”
“They were at a job fair for veterans and it looked like interesting work. It was a lot of independent work, outdoors. I liked that.”
She nodded. She understood that desire to be outdoors and alone, away from other people. After the noise, chaos and crowds of the war, the wilderness felt healing.
“It’s great that you found work that’s important,” he said. “I mean, what you’re doing could make a big difference in peoples’ lives someday.”
“Someday, maybe. But yeah, I do feel as though it’s important work. Don’t you think what you’re doing is important?”
“Sometimes I do. Sometimes I’m not so sure.” He checked his mirrors and crunched down on the candy. “You said this guy you found is Mexican?” he asked.
Back to the reason she was here. Guess they couldn’t avoid that subject forever. “Well, Latino. He had dark hair and brown skin—like you.”
“My mom is from Mexico. My dad’s from Denver.”
“Do you speak Spanish?”
“I do. Comes in handy on the job sometimes.”
“Do you run into a lot of people from Mexico in the park?” she asked, thinking of Mariposa and Angelique.
“Some.” He slowed as they reached the end of the paved road and bumped onto a rougher gravel surface. “How much farther from here?” he asked.
She checked her GPS. “About nine miles.”
“You weren’t kidding—remote.”
“The best specimens are usually where they haven’t been disturbed by people or grazing animals.”
“Right. You haven’t seen anything else suspicious while you were out and about this week, have you?”
She stiffened, again thinking of the Mexican woman and child. “What do you mean, suspicious?”
“A bunch of marijuana plants, for instance? Or a portable meth lab?”
“No. Should I have seen those things?”
“Probably not, if you want to stay safe.”
“Is that why border patrol and the FBI and BLM and who knows who else are meeting in a trailer at park headquarters?” she asked. “To go after drugs in the park?”
The seat creaked as he shifted his weight. “We’re an interagency task force formed to address rising crime in the park and surrounding lands—much of it drug related.” He cut his eyes to her. “Just be careful out there. Good idea to carry that Sig.”
“When I applied for my backcountry permit at the ranger station, they told me to watch out for snakes. No one said anything about drug dealers or murderers.”
“Most tourists will never know they’re there. And how many people who visit the park ever step off the main road or popular trails?”
“Not many,” she said. “I almost never see anyone when I’m out in the backcountry.” Which had made her encounter with Mariposa all the more remarkable. “If I do see anything suspicious, I’ll stay far away,” she said. “All I want to do is collect some plant specimens and get back to my research.”
They both fell silent as the Cruiser bumped over the rutted, sometimes muddy road. Though it was already early June, most of the usually dry arroyos trickled with snowmelt, and grass that would later turn a papery brown looked green and lush. Abby spotted several small herds of deer grazing in the distance, and a cluster of pronghorn antelope that exploded into life as the vehicles trundled past, bouncing away in stiff-legged leaps.
Finally her GPS indicated they were near the area where she’d found the body. “Pull over anywhere,” she said. “We’ll have to walk in from here.”
Michael stopped the Cruiser alongside the road and Graham slid his vehicle in behind them. The officers opened up the backs of the Cruisers and pulled out packs, canteens and, in Graham’s case, a semiautomatic rifle. They were going in loaded for bear, she supposed in case they ran into any of the bad guys.
Graham indicated she should lead the way. GPS in hand, she set out walking. The officers fell in behind in classic patrol formation. Abby’s heart raced. She slipped her hand into the front pocket of her jeans and wrapped it around the rabbit charm. Nothing to worry about, she reminded herself. You’re in Colorado. In a national park. No snipers here.
But of course, the dead man she’d found earlier reminded her that the serene landscape was not as safe as it seemed.
They walked for an hour before they came to the patch of desert parsley she’d harvested earlier. She noted the freshly turned earth where she’d dug up her specimen. “There’s the boulder I hid behind.” She pointed to the large rock, then walked over to it, trying to remember everything she’d done in those moments before she discovered the body. “I started walking this way.”
She led the way, the other three moving silently behind her. A few minutes later she spotted the pink bandanna she’d left tied to the branch of a piñon. “There.” She pointed. “The body is by that tree.”
She stopped and let the three officers move past.
She
