somewhere.”
“Exactly,” said Aidan.
The drone flew over the first row of grapes. It was going to be hard to see if there was a leak there. The grape vines were covered in giant green leaves, and they blocked a lot of the view. “Can you get lower?”
“Not unless I’m ready to smack my drone into a grapevine.” He flew down one row and up another.
“Someone would have noticed. We walk the rows regularly, looking for pests, making sure nothing is browning from lack of water,” Mr. Grigoryan said. “This is a waste of time.”
Not a very upbeat guy, Mr. Grigoryan.
She watched the tiny screen, but Mr. Grigoryan wandered off. It was pretty boring—grape vines, grape vines, the brown dirt at the end of a row, more grapevines. After about twenty minutes, the drone sped up, and Aidan moved the phone out of her view.
“What’re you doing? I can’t see.”
“It’s running out of battery,” Aidan said. “I have more in the trunk.”
He flew the drone back to Grigoryan’s parking lot where they changed the battery and started over. Aidan had brought a bunch of extra batteries. She put the used ones in the glove box so they wouldn’t get them mixed up, then started to text Jaxon again.
“Are you watching the screen?” Aidan asked.
“I’m watching a screen,” she answered. “I’m texting Jaxon. It’ll only take a minute.”
“No mystery if you text too soon.”
“It’s been over twenty minutes. That’s twice the time you told me.” She thumbed in “What’s better than a scenic horseback ride? A scenic horseback ride with ice cream and a cherry on top!”
She thought about putting in two exclamation points, but decided that made her sound too perky.
“Not bad,” Aidan read it over her shoulder. “Not totally generic, so that’s good.”
The drone started down another row. She was already sick of grapes and grapevines.
“He’s not analyzing them on the other end like you are.” At least she hoped not.
“Of course he is. That’s what people do. If he knows the rules, he won’t text you back for at least twenty-five minutes.”
“But I texted him back in twenty!”
“He needs to stretch it out some, so he seems chill about it.”
Her phone buzzed. She had a text.
“See!” she said. “Your rules are dumb.”
“What’d he say?”
“It’s Emily.” Emily had sent her another picture of a shirtless Jaxon. He was on the Hollywood Life website under the heading ‘Sofia’s Sexy Stallion.’
“What’s Emily have to say?”
“Nothing.” She put the phone in her pocket. “Is that a green streak right there on the ground? Maybe it’s a leak.”
It wasn’t, but by the time Aidan had circled the drone back to check that spot of land again, he’d forgotten about her text. Hopefully, Jaxon hadn’t seen the headline. Most civilians were weird about stuff like that. Not that she could blame them. It was weird to have your love life constantly on display.
By the end of the second battery, they’d covered a good part of the vineyard and hadn’t seen anything amiss. The landscape was as groomed at the house.
“I want to go to the Pankhurst’s house.” Aidan’s drone was already flying at top speed across the vines.
It was obvious where the property line ended. Where the Grigoryan vineyard was well-tended, Pankhurst’s property was wild. Clumps of golden, dry grass dotted a dusty landscape. The blue pickup had either left or returned to its garage. Nothing much to see. No plants or intentional landscaping, like Sofia had said.
“His water usage rose ten percent, too,” she said. “But how?”
“He doesn’t look like he’s growing anything.”
“Wonder what he does in the barn so much?” she said.
“What do you mean?” Aidan asked.
“He said the horses are gone, and I don’t see any evidence of any. The trough’s dry. No horse poop anywhere. The only walking trail that isn’t overgrown is between the house and the barn.”
Aidan zoomed the
“Exactly,” said Aidan.
The drone flew over the first row of grapes. It was going to be hard to see if there was a leak there. The grape vines were covered in giant green leaves, and they blocked a lot of the view. “Can you get lower?”
“Not unless I’m ready to smack my drone into a grapevine.” He flew down one row and up another.
“Someone would have noticed. We walk the rows regularly, looking for pests, making sure nothing is browning from lack of water,” Mr. Grigoryan said. “This is a waste of time.”
Not a very upbeat guy, Mr. Grigoryan.
She watched the tiny screen, but Mr. Grigoryan wandered off. It was pretty boring—grape vines, grape vines, the brown dirt at the end of a row, more grapevines. After about twenty minutes, the drone sped up, and Aidan moved the phone out of her view.
“What’re you doing? I can’t see.”
“It’s running out of battery,” Aidan said. “I have more in the trunk.”
He flew the drone back to Grigoryan’s parking lot where they changed the battery and started over. Aidan had brought a bunch of extra batteries. She put the used ones in the glove box so they wouldn’t get them mixed up, then started to text Jaxon again.
“Are you watching the screen?” Aidan asked.
“I’m watching a screen,” she answered. “I’m texting Jaxon. It’ll only take a minute.”
“No mystery if you text too soon.”
“It’s been over twenty minutes. That’s twice the time you told me.” She thumbed in “What’s better than a scenic horseback ride? A scenic horseback ride with ice cream and a cherry on top!”
She thought about putting in two exclamation points, but decided that made her sound too perky.
“Not bad,” Aidan read it over her shoulder. “Not totally generic, so that’s good.”
The drone started down another row. She was already sick of grapes and grapevines.
“He’s not analyzing them on the other end like you are.” At least she hoped not.
“Of course he is. That’s what people do. If he knows the rules, he won’t text you back for at least twenty-five minutes.”
“But I texted him back in twenty!”
“He needs to stretch it out some, so he seems chill about it.”
Her phone buzzed. She had a text.
“See!” she said. “Your rules are dumb.”
“What’d he say?”
“It’s Emily.” Emily had sent her another picture of a shirtless Jaxon. He was on the Hollywood Life website under the heading ‘Sofia’s Sexy Stallion.’
“What’s Emily have to say?”
“Nothing.” She put the phone in her pocket. “Is that a green streak right there on the ground? Maybe it’s a leak.”
It wasn’t, but by the time Aidan had circled the drone back to check that spot of land again, he’d forgotten about her text. Hopefully, Jaxon hadn’t seen the headline. Most civilians were weird about stuff like that. Not that she could blame them. It was weird to have your love life constantly on display.
By the end of the second battery, they’d covered a good part of the vineyard and hadn’t seen anything amiss. The landscape was as groomed at the house.
“I want to go to the Pankhurst’s house.” Aidan’s drone was already flying at top speed across the vines.
It was obvious where the property line ended. Where the Grigoryan vineyard was well-tended, Pankhurst’s property was wild. Clumps of golden, dry grass dotted a dusty landscape. The blue pickup had either left or returned to its garage. Nothing much to see. No plants or intentional landscaping, like Sofia had said.
“His water usage rose ten percent, too,” she said. “But how?”
“He doesn’t look like he’s growing anything.”
“Wonder what he does in the barn so much?” she said.
“What do you mean?” Aidan asked.
“He said the horses are gone, and I don’t see any evidence of any. The trough’s dry. No horse poop anywhere. The only walking trail that isn’t overgrown is between the house and the barn.”
Aidan zoomed the
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