“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, buttechnicallyaccurate, 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 hisvoice 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.”
