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 toomuch 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 seenhergoing 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.”
