Maurice Chamas

She's eager to talk with us, she says, mostly because she wants to get to you.

Any doubt that David Wood really is the desert killer.

And to make us really understand, she says we need to see where it all went down in her old neighborhood in El Paso.

The tour itself is a tight little loop, much shorter than I was expecting.

In about 10 minutes, we see Christy's childhood home, the park where David Wood raped her, and very close by, the middle school that some of the missing girls went to.

It's compelling being driven around like this, seeing landmarks of a case pass by the car window in rapid succession.

Christie's argument is an argument about geography, about proximity.

A serial rapist gets out of prison, hangs around the neighborhood where he once raped her, and then girls start disappearing.

How many explanations could there be?

How could it be anyone else?

After the tour, Alvin and I do offer up a few of the problems the defense lawyers have identified, including the lack of DNA testing.

But Christy bats it all away.

After the break, David Wood.

All the men on death row in Texas are housed at the Allen B. Polonsky Unit, named after a guy who was on a prison oversight board, but also happens to be, of all things, a real estate attorney in San Antonio.

He actually inherited the honor from an insurance executive in Dallas who asked to have his name taken off the unit.

He told a newspaper that it upset his mother.

On the day Alvin and I arrived, there are nearly 3,000 men held inside the prison.

171 of them are on death row.

We walk through a metal detector and a series of heavy gates and into the interview room.

There's a row of tiny booths with phone receivers wired into them.