‘That’s the trouble with activists trespassing and the like,’ Zara said. ‘You’ve got no idea if this is innocent or not. And if it’s not activists, it could be people casing the place to steal things. It frustrates me that South Australia hasn’t got a Rural Crime Investigation Unit anymore.’

  ‘Isn’t that the truth? If it’s not one thing it’s another. And I for one, even though I’ve got nothing to hide, believe that bastard shouldn’t be checking out my farm. For all I know they might be taking kiddie pictures of my daughter.’

  ‘Shit, what a thought,’ Mark said, shaking his head.

  ‘The activists have certainly been using drones to check out farms down south,’ Zara said. ‘One of the other journos in my office wrote an article on a drone that kept chasing cars down the road.’

  ‘What?’ Karl looked over at her.

  ‘Yeah, it scared the crap out of a few women driving home at night. It would appear over the top of a hill and so the driver would see the lights of the drone. Then it would follow the car for as long as it could. Turned out it was an older man causing “public mischief”,’ Zara made the quotation marks with her fingers. ‘That’s what he was charged with. He didn’t have any reason to do what he was doing other than he loved scaring people.’

  ‘There are some fuckwits around, aren’t there?’ Doyley sounded incredulous.

  Zara fished around in her handbag and brought out three business cards. ‘If you’ve got any more information, can you let me know? I’d love to write something about this.’

  ‘Sure. If we get it out there to the public, then everyone can be aware of it,’ Mark said.

  ‘That’s one of the best parts of my job, being able to raise awareness. That’s why I love what I do.’

  Chapter 10

  ‘Hi, Joan,’ Zara said as she walked into the police station. She shrugged out of the jacket she’d put on to walk over. The clouds had come in thick and fast during the night and held the promise of rain. After hearing the farmers talk last night, she hoped the promise would be fulfilled.

  ‘Zara, what brings you here so early this morning? Horrible day out there.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the wind. It’s whipping up a lot of dust, but it’s also bringing the clouds in.’

  ‘I wouldn’t hold my breath for anything other than a dust storm,’ Joan said. ‘I’ve seen it time and time again. We get our hopes up and all that happens is we get our rainwater tanks filled with red dust. The water runs the colour of rust for weeks afterwards.’

  ‘Hope you’re wrong!’

  ‘Oh, me too.’

  ‘Is Jack in?’

  ‘He is. Can I tell him why you’re here?’

  ‘I like the element of surprise,’ Zara said and gave Joan an impish grin.

  ‘He doesn’t,’ said Joan, picking up the phone to call through.

  ‘What cop does?’

  ‘Zara Ellison is here to see you, Jack.’ She listened for a moment, then put down the phone. ‘He’ll be here in a sec.’

  ‘How long have you been working at the station, Joan?’

  ‘Longer than I care to remember. Seen out three senior sergeants. Dave’s been here … oh, three years, I suppose. Seems like longer. He’s the best one I’ve worked with. Jack’s not bad either. Dave has trained him very well.’

  ‘You must’ve seen a lot of cases come through.’

  ‘Always that, love. People seem to think that the country is quiet. From experience I know that some of the wildest things happen in the country.’

  ‘Wildest, huh?’

  ‘Yep. And the other thing I know is nothing is impossible in the country. City people seem to think they’re the only ones who have prowlers or drug dealers or murderers. We have all that too. In spades.’

  ‘Hmm. Not sure that’s something to be proud of,’ Zara said, wrinkling her brow.

  Joan gave a little laugh. ‘Maybe not. I guess what I’m trying to say is it doesn’t matter where you live. When it comes to crime, the same things happen in the country as in the city.’

  ‘Maybe I should lock my doors at night.’

  ‘I think you’re silly if you don’t,’ Joan answered seriously.

  ‘Are you scaring the newest local, Joan?’ Jack asked.

  Zara turned and saw the senior constable standing in the doorway. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been there or how much he’d heard.

  ‘Oh, I hope not!’ Joan resumed her typing. ‘Just telling it like it is.’

  ‘G’day, Zara. Come on through this way.’ Jack nodded at her.

  Zara followed him to an interview room. It held two chairs either side of a steel table. At a quick glance she saw the table was bolted to the floor. She certainly wasn’t having the welcome mat rolled out for her this morning.

  She waited until they were both seated before saying, ‘Thanks for seeing me.’

  Jack spread his hands out as if to say, Why wouldn’t I?

  ‘Did you meet a few people at the pub last night?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, I did. I’m going to write a story about Brock Doyle’s saltbush and how it’s increased his carrying capacity, and I might do a profile of Ian Wood. I’m really just trying to find people who are interesting and do some profiles. I’ve found that people don’t have to be doing ground-breaking things to make a good story, they just have to be interesting.’

  Jack nodded and glanced at his watch. ‘How can I help you today then, Zara? I don’t think I’m so “interesting” that you’ll need to interview me.’ He emphasised the word ‘interesting’.

  Feeling annoyed, Zara frowned. ‘You know, Jack, I’m not the enemy here, although you seem to think I am.’

  ‘Look, Zara, I’ll be honest. We haven’t had a journo living in town and coming into the office regularly, ever. You’ve been in twice in two days. We’ve got work to do and nothing would be so exciting or attention-grabbing that you needed to come and see us every day. We’re just not sure what you want from us, especially since there’s really nothing going on around here that would warrant a story.’

  ‘See, that’s where I think you’re wrong, Jack. I heard last night there’s a drone being flown over people’s properties. I would’ve thought that warranted investigating.’

  ‘Who have you been talking to?’ Jack leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees.

  Zara felt the keenness of his stare. ‘Oh, come on now. You know us journos never give up our sources. I’m just asking you to confirm or deny whether you’ve had reports of drones being flown over properties.’

  Jack paused for only a moment before responding. ‘Yes, we have.’

  ‘And are you investigating?’

  ‘There’s no active investigation ongoing at this time.’

  Stop being so arrogant, Zara thought.

  ‘Can I ask why?’

  ‘You can, but that’s a question I’m not going to answer. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?’ Jack stood up.

  Zara had dealt with enough coppers in her time to know there was no point in trying to get anything more out of Jack. She stood up and fixed a smile on her face.

  ‘Thanks for your help.’

  ‘You’re welcome. This way.’

  Out on the street, Zara shook her head and looked back at the station. Either Jack had been badly burned by a reporter at some stage in his career, or he’d been schooled never to have anything to do with them.

  It’s not like I’m chasing a murder investigation, she thought grumpily.

  Glancing up at the sky, she realised the clouds had started to break up in the south, which was where any rain would’ve come from. Now, on the horizon, she could see the dirtiness of a red smudge. Dust.

  The wind whipped around her and she pulled her coat tighter and put on her sunglasses. Looking down at the pavement, she started to walk towards home, composing the start of a story in her head.

  When asked if there was an ongoing investigation into unusual drone activity in the Barker region, the Farming Telegraph was told no. No further information was forthcoming.

  However, for the farmers around Barker there is a sense of disquiet. Drones aren’t new technology and laws on their usage have been in existence since 2002. However, the last few years have seen an increase in their use; often for good, but sometimes not.

  Farmers have found drones to be very helpful when checking water levels in tanks and mustering from the ground. Barker farmer Ian Wood told me …

  Zara grabbed her phone and switched on the voice memo. ‘Call farmers met last night for comment on usefulness of drone within the farming industry.’ She switched it off and glanced at her watch. Maybe she could catch Danny at the pub before she went home. She really should be getting out to the farm, but it would only take a couple of minutes and hopefully she would have enough to write a story for this week’s paper. Changing direction, she walked to the pub, wanting to get out of the foul weather.

  She pushed on the door and found it was locked, but she could see Danny restocking the fridge behind the bar. Knocking loudly, she waved when he looked over.

  ‘Too early to start drinking,’ he said when he opened the door. ‘Damn, that weather is revolting. Come in, come in, before I have to sweep the floor again.’

  ‘Sorry to bother you early, Danny.’

  ‘No bother. What’s going on?’

  ‘I just went to ask the police about a drone.’ She told him a little of the conversation from the previous night. ‘I wondered if you knew anything about it.’

  Danny nodded. ‘Sure do. I’ve heard that some people have reported it. Dave was away when the first report came in, and Jack wouldn’t do anything about it just in case it was a local who’d bought themselves a new toy and didn’t know the rules around flying it. Then I heard of others—three times over the following week, still while Dave was away. Not sure if they were all reported or what’s been done about it since.’

  Zara wanted to ask how he knew the first report had been made while Dave was away, and if he knew that much, surely he knew who had made the complaint. ‘So, four people reported the same incident, or the police have been told about four different incidents?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know what’s been reported to them, but I know of four different times. First one was out on the road to Adelaide. There’s nothing really out there except the gun club and cemetery, so it really wasn’t doing any harm. Except Mrs Pickett could see it from her window and got worried.’

  ‘As you would,’ Zara sympathised.

  ‘The second time I heard about it was when old George Mayne from Mayne Meats came in for his usual Wednesday counter lunch. He said there’d been one buzzing near the meatworks. Never went over the top, but he could see it out on the road. It was glinting in the sun. He didn’t realise what it was until he told his grandson about it. See, now, to me that says it’s not someone with a new toy. Maybe, instead, someone who wants to stir up a bit of trouble by focusing on the meatworks. But who am I? Just an old publican who knows not much.’

  ‘Sounds like a perfectly reasonable conclusion to me. When was the third time?’

  ‘Out on Ridge Road. Rhys Aldridge said he was going down to get the mail from the roadside mailbox and he could see it hovering over his shearing shed. Said it made the sound of an oversized mosquito. Now, the interesting thing about this one is that his shed is right on the road, so the person who was driving it must’ve been close by, but he never saw anyone. I asked him straight out and he said no.’

  ‘Maybe casing it for fuel or something?’ Zara wondered out loud.

  ‘Coulda been. Or checking to see if they were shearing and there was any blood on the sheep.’

  Zara looked at him, impressed. ‘Love your thinking, Danny. You’d make a good journalist, such an enquiring mind.’

  Danny went red and turned to put another row of beer bottles in the fridge. ‘I just like to listen and then I think about things. I read a lot too, you know, and I’ve heard your name before. I know you reported on that court case in Melbourne where that protester was killed.’

  ‘Yeah, I did. You must know a lot about farming and what goes on then?’

  ‘I know a bit. Anyway, that’s what made me think there was more to this drone.’

  ‘I think you’re right. Can you give me the names and phone numbers of the people you mentioned to me today?’

  Danny nodded. ‘You haven’t asked about the fourth one.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ she encouraged.

  ‘Out at Murray Neilson’s farm. Buzzed his house, so whoever was flying it broke the law that time. The law says that you’ve got to respect people’s privacy and you’re not allowed to fly over people, like during sporting games and things, and—this one’s really important—you’ve got to keep a drone thirty metres away from people.’

  ‘So how did that break the law, do you think?’

  ‘I don’t think buzzing his house is respecting his privacy, is it?’

  ‘Good point.’ Zara put her bag back on her shoulder. ‘Can I grab those names and numbers, Danny?’

  Chapter 11

  As Dave drove out to Rowberry Glen, he kept glancing at the sky. Jack had told him this morning that he’d overheard some farmers talking about drones in the pub last night, and then Zara had turned up asking questions. She was perfectly entitled to do that, but he wished she hadn’t. Not for any reason other than he liked to investigate things on his own terms, without a reporter looking over his shoulder.

  Jack had heard that Will had ‘gone all tech’ and so Dave thought it might be worthwhile having a chat. Maybe he knew something about this drone that was causing everyone grief. Anyway, as part of the community policing he was briefed to undertake, going to see Will wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps the young bloke would be pleased for the distraction. Even so, Dave knew he would have to tread carefully.

  He pulled up at the front gate and watched as it opened automatically. So great not to have to get out and open it, then again to shut it, he thought.

  He was greeted by a round of barking kelpies, then walked down the path to find Lynda standing at the front door.

  ‘Hi, Dave, what brings you out? Kim was only here yesterday!’

  ‘She told me last night,’ Dave said with a grin. ‘She enjoyed catching up with you. Must be a bit hard trying to run the farm and be here for Will.’

  ‘A bit of girl time was exactly what I needed, but I didn’t know until I had it. I’m just on my way to do a stock run.’

  ‘Is Zara helping you out?’

  ‘On the farm? She will once she’s found her feet, but what we really need is a workman. Someone who’s going to be here for a while. Zara won’t stay after …’ She stopped and tried to smile, while starting to put her boots on. ‘Were you looking for Will or me?’

  ‘Whoever is in charge of the technology and security cameras.’

  ‘That would be Will.’ She looked up. ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘Oh no, not at all, just wanted to ask Will a couple of questions, that’s all.’

  ‘He’s having a better day today. Yesterday wasn’t good; he was in a lot of pain. But he’s sitting up in the office this morning. I’ll tell him you’re here.’ She held the door open and ushered Dave inside.

  As he walked in, he looked at the photos on the wall. Pictures of happier times when there were still four in the family, when they were all healthy and full of life.

  ‘You must like farming to have continued on after your husband died. Did you come from a farm?’

  ‘Yeah, I grew up on the other side of Barker. About eighty ks from here. Closer to Spalding. Mum and Dad had a few thousand acres running cattle. Herefords. Of course, they’re not the flavour of the month anymore. Angus seems to be the breed of choice. I was an only child, so when it became clear I wasn’t coming home, my parents sold the farm and retired.’

  ‘You didn’t want their land?’ Dave was surprised.

  ‘Too far from here. We would’ve been forever on the road between places. Farming like that is okay for a while, but Brian had done it before and he wanted to buy land closer to Rowberry Glen.’

  ‘Did he succeed?’

  Lynda stopped in the kitchen and refilled the kettle before switching it on. ‘He died before any land came up. Then we all decided there was enough land here to keep me and Will occupied and give us a decent enough income.’ She shrugged. ‘Life seems to be what happens while we make other plans, doesn’t it?’

  ‘A truer statement there never was,’ Dave answered. He turned as he heard footsteps behind him on the wooden floorboards.

  A gaunt man with a protruding stomach stood behind him, and it took all of Dave’s training not to react to the change in Will. ‘G’day, Will. Good to see you, mate.’

  ‘Hi, Dave. What’s going on?’

  ‘I was passing and thought I’d call in to say hi. I’d like to hear about the new technology you’ve put in, if you’re feeling like you can chat.’ Dave watched as Will’s face lit up.

  ‘Sure. Be happy to.’

  ‘Tea or coffee, Dave?’ Lynda broke in.

  ‘I’ll have a tea, thanks.’ Dave had already scanned the kitchen and realised there wasn’t a coffee machine there. It would have to be tea for him today.

  ‘Will?’

  ‘Nothing, thanks. Dave, come down to the office and I’ll show you.’

  Following Will, Dave cast his eyes around, taking in the details of the house. There were medicine bottles lining one windowsill, and a bed in the corner of the sitting room. Beside it were farming magazines piled high. Will must spend a bit of time there, thought Dave. He saw how the window looked out over the rolling hills and creek and could understand why he did that.

  ‘Why the interest, Dave?’ Will had sat down and was pointing at a chair. ‘Drag it round so you can see.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ve always been interested in this type of technology. Wondered if it really was as good as everyone says.’ He wasn’t going to mention the community policing or the drone just yet.