Chapter Thirty-Eight #2
“Rock Creek Road is still flooded,” Rick continued, “and there’re dozens of downed trees, phone lines still out.
I don’t think we’ll get them fixed until early next week, but cell service seems to have been restored.
I got over Mule Run at Privett. The rest of Mule Run is still closed until the water recedes at bit.
The ditches were already saturated, not many places for the water to go.
Be careful if you need to head to town, because there’s standing water and the roads are crap.
Even one of my deputies misjudged and got his truck stuck just south of the Rock Creek closure, the eejit.
” Rick shook his head. “I don’t have word from the county yet as to the status of the cleanup.
They’re probably still assessing. How’s your patient? ”
“Alive,” Ellen said. “But not out of the woods.”
“Let’s get him under arrest and off to the hospital.”
Rick let the paramedics in, and Ellen watched as they checked Sam’s vitals and transferred him to the stretcher. She gave them the list of medications she’d given him, and when, and a plastic bag with the shotgun pellets. They seemed impressed, but she knew she was lucky he hadn’t died.
When they were gone, Rick sat down for a cup of coffee. “I planned to take Ryan home with me,” he said. “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to get him off the farm right now. I don’t know where he gets it. We never had more than a horse and a few chickens.”
“Sometimes, you’re born into farm life, and sometimes, it’s just in the blood,” Penny said as she slid over a plate of biscuits and gravy in front of the tired sheriff.
“Thank you, Penny.”
“You look like death warmed over,” she said.
“It’s been a long night,” he said.
Travis said, “I’m taking Timber to the vet in Callisburg later today, I can drop Ryan off.”
“I’d be obliged,” he said. “His truck is in evidence right now.”
Ellen straightened and leaned forward. “You found Brock and Rena?”
He nodded, swallowed a bite of biscuit, and washed it down with black coffee.
“Three o’clock this morning. They were flooded out at Mule Run and Privett.
They didn’t cause problems, told me their brother was here and that you saved his life.
This was after I talked to you last night.
Brock Jones is his name, Rena is his wife, Sam is her brother.
From Louisiana. I’m going to interview them when I’m done here, I suspect they have a lot to say.
Also, I meant to tell you as soon as I got here but I was distracted.
Good news. Looks like Greg Baldwin is going to pull through. ”
“Praise the Lord,” Penny said.
“Are his daughters with him?” Ellen asked.
“Both at the hospital right now. He’s one lucky man. Owes his life to your son.”
“And what’s going to happen to the Joneses?”
“We’ll see what the DA wants to do, but they’ll both be going away for some time.”
“He told me that Mitchell Robinson hired him to steal contracts from Baldwin, Coulter, and two other families.”
“Robinson didn’t tell them to shoot Greg or hold the Mendozas hostage,” Rick said.
“I’m not justifying what they did. I’m saying he can testify against Robinson.”
“He could,” Rick said, “but you have a thief with a long rap sheet speaking against a wealthy, law-abiding man with roots in the valley.”
Ellen snorted. “You know as well as I do that Mitchell Robinson is as crooked as they come.”
“And proving it is going to be damn near impossible.”
“What if we can?” Travis asked.
“It had better be ironclad. And even then, there’s no guarantee.”
“Brock Jones told me there was an error in the contracts, and my best guess, based on what I saw when George gave me his contract, is that the owners have the right to approve any land-use changes on the property. The only projects allowed in the contract are for the utility lines. It means Verdacorp can’t exercise mineral rights without explicit permission of the original landowner.
So, he stole the contracts because I don’t think that clause was supposed to be included. ”
“He’ll find a way to get around it,” Rick said. “He always has something up his sleeve.”
“Rick, there’s something you need to listen to,” Travis said. He put the cracked phone down on the table. “There are multiple calls between Mitchell Robinson and Brock Jones in the phone logs.”
“Who’s phone is that?” Rick asked.
“Brock Jones left it for Ellen. It was dead and we charged it.”
Slight fib, but technically accurate, Ellen thought, if they ever had to testify. Brock had left it for her—in his truck.
Rick frowned, glanced at Ellen. “You know that’s evidence.”
“Hear me out,” Travis said. “The phone log connects Mitchell to Jones. Also, the timing of the calls is very suspicious. Several calls yesterday, Thursday, earlier in the week. I’m still going through the contracts, but they’re not going to match what’s filed with the recorder’s office.
Jones took photos of what he stole for Mitchell. ”
“Maybe, but Mitchell can easily say he doesn’t know what Jones is talking about, or that they are fake. He doesn’t have to answer any questions. He could even claim that he was robbed. Jones is a career criminal.”
“But I found one more thing. He recorded a conversation with Mitchell. I only listened to the first part of it before you arrived.”
Rick looked skeptical.
Travis hit an audio app on the phone, and at first there was only some rustling that Ellen couldn’t place. Maybe cloth or paper.
“Close the door.”
That voice they all knew: Mitchell Robinson.
A rustling of paper. “Those are the addresses and a sample of what you’re looking for. But don’t just take the contracts. You have to make it look good, like a typical burglary.”
“Not a problem. And you’re going to make certain no one is home?”
“It’s taken care of. I attached the schedule. Stick to it and you’ll be clear. It’ll be the easiest money you’ve ever made.”
A chuckle. That was Brock Jones, Ellen surmised, though his voice was calmer and more confident on the recording than it had been last night when he was panicked.
“That’s what everyone says, but I don’t see you breaking in and doing anything about it.”
“Drop the attitude. You already have half the money, just stick to the schedule and call me if you have any trouble. Don’t fuck this up.”
“No, sir,” Brock said.
The door opened and closed. The recording continued. There were voices in the background but nothing that Ellen could clearly understand.
Then a truck door, the turning of an ignition.
“We good?”
Ellen thought that was Rena.
“Yep,” Brock said. “Put this in a safe place, just in case he tries to double-cross us.”
Then the recording ended.
“Texas is a one-party consent state,” Travis said. “This will hold up.”
Rick held out his hand. “I’ll get this to the district attorney, get his opinion on it.”
“You mean Sullivan?” Travis said, shaking his head. “Mitchell practically bought his seat for him.”
“I can’t do anything about that.”
Travis frowned, then sent the recording to Rick, Ellen, and himself before handing Rick the phone. “We’re going to trust you with this, but Sullivan had better not screw this up. And hold off giving it to him until Monday.”
“Why?” Rick asked.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Travis—if you do something illegal, I’m not going to be able to help you.”
“It’s not illegal.”
Ellen had no idea what her brother-in-law was thinking, but she didn’t ask him in front of Rick.
“Ellie,” Travis said quietly, “tell Rick about the barn and generator.”
“Jake and I have noticed several oddities, but we realized yesterday that someone intentionally sabotaged the barn by putting expanding foam into the downspouts and cutting holes into the wall to flood our loft,” Ellen said.
“We caught it, but not before most of our hay was wet.” She told him everything else that had been happening over the last fifteen months, including the most recent—Lyla getting shocked by the barn generator that had clearly been intentionally damaged.
Rick frowned. “You’re not saying it was Mitchell, are you?”
“I don’t know that Mitchell would have the guts to do it himself,” Travis said, “but he would hire someone, and you know it.”
Rick considered, nodded. “But you have no evidence.”
She shook her head.
“Write everything down that you believe was intentional,” Rick finally said. “But I don’t know what I can do about it. You might want to get cameras out here. I know it’s a pain, and good cameras can be expensive, but it would protect you.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said. The idea of being forced to add layers of security on her farm made her sad. They lived in a safe, rural community and knew all of their neighbors. Cameras … Then she thought about Mitchell’s cameras. He was watching his neighbors, and that made her doubly angry.
Rick rose, rinsed out his coffee mug, and put it in the sink. “You know I care about your family a lot,” he said. “Don’t do anything that’s going to bite you in the ass. Understand?”
“Understood,” Travis said.