Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Are you one hundred percent sure?” Travis asked Ellen again as they pulled up to Robinson’s sprawling home.
Day laborers were already clearing the debris from the storm. By tomorrow, Verdacorp would once again look like the spread from Dallas.
“I’m sure,” Ellen said.
This was their only chance, because Rick was right: if they pushed it and tried to get an investigation into Mitchell Robinson and Verdacorp, he had enough money and friends to fight back hard.
He gave money to the county supervisors and the district attorney.
He was well known in not only Cooke County, but the entirety of north Texas.
Without hard evidence, they couldn’t do anything. And he would continue to sabotage Ellen, likely out of spite because she would never in a million years sell him a square foot of her property.
And for what? Because of the ancient feud between the Robinsons and the McKennas? John had been cordial to Mitchell. He’d had Clive over for a meal on occasion. They did everything they could to bury the hatchet, and Mitchell still wanted to live in the past.
Ellen would not allow him to destroy her family, or her family’s legacy.
Travis’s plan had to work.
They approached the door. Knocked. Presley answered, looking exasperated.
“You,” she said.
“Hello, Presley,” Travis said with a smile.
She looked him up and down, rolled her eyes. “Uncle Clive or Dad?”
“Mitchell, please.”
She motioned for them to follow and led them to Mitchell’s office.
“Dad, Travis and Ellen are here,” she said as she opened the door without knocking.
Mitchell was seated at his huge mahogany desk, his back to the wall of windows that looked out at his pool and wide fields. Dozens of people were cleaning up the debris. Ellen wondered how he could afford such a large staff, even if part-time. She could barely afford Mateo.
A wall of trophy bucks and a few more exotic animals—a lion, a gazelle, a full bear in the corner—stared glassy-eyed from all sides.
Ellen didn’t hunt, but Travis and John used to go out annually, catch a buck, and bring it to a butcher for cleaning, cutting, and packaging.
They could eat venison twice a month for a year. But they never displayed their kills.
“Hello,” Mitchell said with a smile. He motioned for them to sit. “How did your little ranch fare last night?”
“No serious damage,” Ellen said with a smile. She hoped it was pleasant enough, because she was primed to attack.
She sat down, tried to relax.
“Coffee?” he offered.
“No, thank you,” she said. “I’m already jittery enough from too much caffeine.” She laughed lightly, hoping that would explain her stiffness.
Travis sat in the chair next to her. He glared at Mitchell. So much for being pleasant.
“Travis and I were talking this morning about your trade offer.” She held up a folder with her copy of the contract that Clive had left. “We had a few questions.”
Mitchell leaned back and gestured for them to sit. “What’s there to ask? Eight hundred acres of prime farmland for your two hundred. More than a fair trade.”
“Seems that I’m getting a much better deal. I looked at the map. It’s eight hundred acres adjacent to my field, giving me full access to Whisper Creek and the lake. So, I don’t understand why you want this two hundred acres of grazing land that hasn’t grown anything other than winter wheat.”
Mitchell smiled. “It connects my holdings. It gives me continuity.”
“Well, until the Coulter contract falls apart.”
He blinked, his smile wavering.
Before Mitchell could reply, the office door opened and Clive Robinson stepped inside. He was damp from perspiration. He took off his hat and wiped his palms on his jeans. He’d actually been out working or at least supervising the cleanup.
“I thought I saw you drive up, Travis.”
Travis nodded. “Clive.”
Mitchell’s posture stiffened. “We’re just discussing the fair trade we offered to Ellen.”
Clive sat down on the couch kitty-corner to the desk, said hello to Ellen.
“By the way, did you hear that Rick Perez caught the people who robbed and shot Greg Baldwin?” Ellen asked.
By his expression, he hadn’t. “Oh? I assumed they were long gone.”
He didn’t look them in the eye, and Ellen wondered if he had seen Brock’s truck at the Coulter house through his security cameras. Yet … he didn’t act like he had seen her going through the truck, so maybe he hadn’t checked.
“They got stuck on Mule Run Road last night,” Travis said.
“Well, good. We should all feel safe in our homes. Now, what other questions do you have? As Clive told you, I need this signed before Monday morning. So, if you’re ready, I’m happy to make the trade now.”
“As I’ve told you multiple times, I’m not selling you anything.”
“I know, that’s why I proposed the trade—giving you a very good deal.”
“Yeah, not going to do it.”
“Then why are you here? You said you had questions, and you’re not going to sign?” He leaned forward, hands on his desk, glared at Ellen. “I’ll have your land one way or the other. I don’t have to play nice.”
“Don’t you mean you haven’t played nice?
” Ellen said, leaning forward. “I know you hired Brock Jones to rob four families, including Greg Baldwin. He wasn’t supposed to be home.
You hired a thief to steal contracts that had a clause in them you couldn’t abide—how it got in there in the first place, I don’t know.
A mistake from your sexy little legal secretary, perhaps? ”
His face reddened and Ellen continued.
“I have a copy of what Brock stole. You know why? Because I saved his brother’s life last night, and he thanked me by telling the truth.”
“You…” Mitchell cleared his throat. “You can’t believe a thief. A person who would say anything to get out of prison.”
“Rick is interviewing him right now,” Ellen said.
Mitchell leaned back, shook his head. “Oh, Ellen, you are foolish. You think I would leave anything to chance?”
Her heart skipped a beat. They weren’t wrong, and she hadn’t thought they’d underestimated Mitchell, but maybe … maybe they had. She wasn’t used to thinking like an unscrupulous rancher.
But they were here, and she had to finish. Travis had a theory, and if he was right, then they had only one chance to take Mitchell Robinson down—at least one chance without relying on the D.A.—a personal friend of Mitchell’s—to actually do something about his crimes.
“Like sabotaging my ranch?”
He stared at her and shook his head. “Ellen, you’re paranoid. I think you need to stop right now before you say something you can’t take back.”
Had she seen him glance at Clive? Or was that wishful thinking?
“So many little things, Mitchell. I didn’t think much about it for a long time, because farms always need repairs.
But there were too many little things. I started to suspect something was up when the cattle gate was unlatched.
” Not completely true, but she wanted Mitchell to believe she’d been thinking about this for longer than the weekend.
“Jake is too responsible to make a mistake like that. And then the brand-new refrigerator in the barn broke, we lost a whole week’s worth of raw milk, couldn’t fulfill our obligation to our supplier.
So, I put a couple of cameras on the barn. ”
She lied so smoothly it surprised her. But Travis was right, this was the only way she was going to get even part of the truth.
“And surprise, when someone I know came into the barn in the middle of the night … and then I find holes cut into the wall above the gutter.”
“You’re bluffing,” Mitchell said smugly.
“There were holes in the wall?” Clive questioned. “What happened?”
Travis said, “Someone we all know cut narrow openings level with the gutter and clogged the drainpipes, so when the storm hit, it flooded the loft.”
Mitchell glanced at Clive. “They’re bluffing.”
Clive didn’t know, Ellen realized. His face was a mask of confusion. He might have known about Brock Jones being hired to steal the contracts, but he didn’t know about the sabotage.
Ellen snapped, “I’m not bluffing, and when I turn over the tapes to Rick he’s going to question Tom Garza and I don’t think Garza is going to go to prison for you.”
“I fired Tom,” Mitchell said suddenly. “He’ll say anything to get back at me.
” Then he said calmly, “Ellen, I would never do anything to hurt you or your family. You know that. This deal”—he touched the folder—“is a godsend for you. You need the land to grow, and I’m practically giving it to you.
Sign it, and all your troubles will go away. ”
He smiled like a snake oil salesman and Ellen felt ill. Mitchell was right—if he fired Tom, whatever Tom said may not hold up. If they even got as far as a jury trial, the jurors may not believe him. This was rapidly getting out of control.
Travis said, his voice low and menacing, “Did you have Garza sabotage the roof, too?” He rose from his chair. “Did you kill my brother?”
“Get out,” Mitchell said, rising from his desk. “I’ll call security and have you dragged out.”
“Mitchell,” Clive said, “what did you do?”
“I’ve done nothing! If Tom Garza did anything, he did it without my knowledge or authorization.”
“You didn’t fire Tom,” Clive said. “He quit. He told me he quit this morning.”
“Shut up, Clive!”
Mitchell walked to the door, swung it open. “Get out of here. Leave, both of you. You think you’ve won? I’ll own your ranch by winter. Burn what’s left and pour concrete over it. Put in a fucking runway for my plane!”
Clive stepped forward. “That’s enough.”
“They’ve treated us like dirt for four generations, Clive!
” Mitchell yelled. “Mightier-than-thou McKennas who think they are God’s gift to farming.
So superior. So fucking arrogant! Verdacorp is the future, and if you don’t get with the program, you’ll have nothing.
Don’t you see? Family farms are done. Over.
Economies of scale and vertical economics are the only way to profit.
By holding out you are only prolonging the demise of what you claim to love. ”
Clive’s voice was quiet. “At what cost? You’ve lost your soul.”
Mitchell’s hands balled into fists. “You think they didn’t screw Dad every chance they got because he was an idiot?
It wasn’t until I took over that the Robinson name began to mean something again.
And don’t look at me as if you’re innocent, big brother,” Mitchell spat out.
“Whose idea was it to get back the contracts in the first place?” Suddenly, he stopped talking.
The room went still.
Mitchell blinked, realizing too late.
“Out! All of you!”
Ellen and Travis left, Clive right behind them.
“I’m sorry, Ellen,” Clive said. “I never wanted anyone in your family to get hurt. I didn’t know what Mitchell was doing.”
“You knew about the contracts,” she said pointedly.
With a long face, he nodded. “There was an error in the last four contracts we executed and we had to get them back. No one was supposed to get hurt.”
“Tell that to Greg Baldwin,” she said. “You’re lucky he made it, otherwise you and Mitchell would be accessories to murder.”
He nodded solemnly. “I’ll do what I can to keep Mitchell from coming after you.”
She turned to face him, searched his face. Guilt? Good. But that wouldn’t bring John back.
“Tell me you didn’t know what Tom was doing,” she said quietly as they stood on the front porch. “Please, just tell me the truth.”
“Mitchell’s a bastard,” Clive said, “but I never thought he’d sink that low. I am so sorry.”
She wanted to go back and hit Mitchell. Scream at him. Tell him that he had stolen a good man from his family, all out of envy and greed and hate.
But it wouldn’t accomplish anything.
Instead, she walked to the truck without saying a word.
Travis followed, silent. Once they were safely inside the truck, he pulled a small digital recorder from his coat and clicked it off. “I hope this is enough.”
Ellen stared at the device; jaw tight. “It’ll have to be.”
Then she cried.