Inside was the revised operating agreement Diane had drafted yesterday.

“There is only one way to keep this project from going into state receivership,” Diane said.

She slid the document across the table toward Grant.

“You sign over your entire forty-nine percent stake in the Harbor Point development,” Diane said.

“For one dollar.”

“Are you insane?” Grant shouted.

He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the hardwood floor.

“That project is worth eighty million dollars on completion.”

“I brought in the foreign investors.”

“I got the zoning permits through the city council.”

“You bought the zoning commissioner dinners with my family’s money,” I said.

I stood up to face him across the table.

The orange afternoon light caught the edge of his heavy gold watch.

“You signed my name to loan documents because your personal credit was depleted,” I said.

“That is forgery, Grant.”

“And taking three million from the construction escrow is grand larceny.”

Diane tapped the tablet screen.

“We have the affidavits from the bank’s compliance officer ready to go,” Diane said.

“If Vivian signs the formal complaint, the district attorney will have an arrest warrant issued by morning.”