“Near that mine I told you about, lying there at the edge of the road.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Well, you do now.”
Raymond wrapped the point in his handkerchief as delicately as if it were fragile china. He slipped the bundle in his front pocket and said, “You think if we took a couple of shovels…?”
“No. We’re not going into Mexico to raid their historical sites.”
“You did.”
“I picked up something on an old road. I wasn’t digging.”
“But it’s a folsom.”
“All you old patrollers are crazy about that stuff. Like an addiction or something.”
Raymond said, “Old patrol, huh? How many folsoms do you have at your house?”
“That’s different.”
“Hah. How many?”
“Six.”
“Six? Six?”
“Well, five. One of them doesn’t count because it has the tip broken.”
“It still counts. That still counts. I’ve seen it. It’s like one splinter of flint the size of a tiny arm off a snowflake. You can barely tell. So, hah! Old Patrol, you’re Old Patrol. You’re New Old Patrol.”
“You’re gonna chew me out after I gave you a gift?”
“What? No, no. I was instructing you on the history of the Patrol and folsom points.” He grinned, “I love the gift. Thank you.”
Raymond drove toward Marfa, and they talked a lot about other things. Food was a big topic, with Hunter asking when he was going to grill something so she could come over and eat.
“I’m taking Connie to eat in Alpine, so I can’t. It’s date night.”
“Good for you. I think I’ll drive up to Odessa and buy some things I need.”
“You’re gonna drive three hours to Odessa? You don’t buy local?”
“When they have it.”
“If you’ll pick me up a brisket from that place on forty-second that’s running a big sale, I’ll cook it up next week so you won’t starve. How’s that?”
“Larry’s Meat Market? You’ve got a deal.”
We’ll do it in honor of my folsom point.”
Hunter finished her paper work at the station, hurried to her home and changed clothes before driving to Alpine and taking the jag on Highway 67 to Monahans, and from there, on I-20 to Odessa. She went to several stores shopping for new blouses and skirts, even though she rarely wore them, with her style running more to jeans and shorts, shirts and tee-shirts. She still wanted to dress up nice occasionally. She found two blouses that she liked almost immediately, then it took a while to find the right skirts. Once Hunter finished with that, she went to the meat market, picked up a beautiful brisket, and took it to her truck.
As she loaded it in the back seat, RL drove by and noticed her, recognizing her from the border. He slowed and turned around, parking in another lot to observe. She wore faded jeans, a loose-fitting, dark blue tee shirt with a lightning bolt diagonally across the front, running shoes and a Texas Rangers baseball cap. He also noticed the movement of her shirt that showed the tiniest indication of a pistol under it.
He called Ellis and waited four rings before the man answered. “What’s up?”
RL said, “I’m sitting in a parking lot in Odessa, watching that female Agent, Kincaid, across the street.”