“Nah, go ahead. I’m David Glenn, by the way.” Hunter thought he looked like Daniel Radcliffe, the actor who portrayed Harry Potter, complete with round eyeglasses and a mop-like shock of dark brown hair.
She shook his hand, “Hunter Kincaid.”
“I thought so.”
“Do we know each other?”
“We’ve never met before, but people around here know you. I‘ve seen photos of you on the web. That was after the chlorine gas incident down here. You’re a lot prettier in person.” He realized what he’d said and blushed.
Smiling, she said, “What size do they make these?”
“Lots of sizes, just depends on how much you want to spend.”
“Like how big?”
“I saw one on YouTube, had a hammock underneath. A woman was in the hammock and she had it hovering around. Ran another person on a bicycle off the path. It was kinda funny.”
“So they can carry a person?”
“Uh-huh. Mostly on top, like standing on a platform between the rotors, but underneath too like the hammock. They can go across water and everything.”
“What sort of mileage would something like that get?”
“Our small ones run on lithium batteries, but the big ones have motors. I don’t think very far, ten miles maybe. But, the more powerful they are, the more fuel they can carry.” He leaned closer, “I hear they’re making some in Mexico that can carry a hundred pounds for fifty miles or more. Drugs and stuff.”
“Have you seen them?”
“No, but the guys in my club and I talk about it.”
Hunter used her hand to point at the other boys in the distance, “Is this your club?”
“Nah, these are friends. I’m helping teach them how to fly. Our club only has three members. It’s private, and we’re all pretty good.”
“Are they around so I could talk to them?”
“You can’t today. Lonny lives in Marfa, and Carlos lives in OJ, that’s Ojinaga, across the river. But we have a meeting tomorrow. You could meet us then. It’ll be in Marfa.” He grinned, “And don’t worry about Carlos, he’s a legal resident, just lives in OJ half the time.”
“What time and where tomorrow?”
“Ten, at the golf course. They let us fly there.”
“All right.”
David slid into his pickup, “Wait until I tell the others you’re coming to our meeting. They’re gonna be stoked!”
Hunter smiled and gave him a nod, “Mañana.” She waited until David left, then resumed her drive to the murder scene.
She pulled into the parking area at the Big Hill, got out with her binoculars and looked over the area to the west, where the victim filmed the drones flying at night. Nothing stood out. She walked the road on foot, finding a dime-sized spot of dried blood near the edge of the pavement. The ground along the shoulder showed disturbances caused by many feet, which was typical for a murder scene. She descended the slope where the GoPro had been located, but discovered nothing new.
Returning to her vehicle, Hunter drove through Lajitas and on to Terlingua, all the while looking for anything out of the ordinary. She meandered through Terlingua and spotted her friend, rancher Sam Kinney sitting at an outside table at the High Sierra Bar and Grill, eating nachos and drinking a beer.
Hunter parked in the lot and Sam spotted her. The rancher waved her over and used his booted foot to push out the chair on the opposite side of the table. He used hand signs to the waitress to signal two beers as he said, “You off today? I hardly ever see you out of uniform.”
“Kinda. I’m halfway working.”
Sam chuckled, “You’re always working. You don’t have an off switch.”
The waitress put down two beers and left. Hunter touched her bottle to Sam’s, “Salud.”