35Oscar Billingsley steered the SUV onto a nearly invisible dirt track and up a low rise. He parked the vehicle in the shade of a few gnarled mesquite trees and they both got out. He popped open the rear hatch door, and extracted two folding chairs in their sleeves and two oddly shaped cases that Becca recognized as containers that would hold binoculars.
“Did you bring your water?” Oscar hoisted one of the chairs over his shoulder.
“It's in my bag.” Becca went back to the front seat and grabbed a stainless-steel water bottle that had been inserted into a padded glove, the strap of which she placed over her head and crossed under one arm, so the container rested on her hip. She picked up the other chair and looped the belt over her other shoulder.
They walked about fifty yards, up and ov
