“Here is what we are going to do,” I said. “You are going to sign over fifty percent of the equity of Morrison Garden Apartments to me.”

“Never,” he said.

“Then I press dial,” I said, hovering my thumb over the screen. “And while you are sitting in jail, Jake and I will have all the time we need to clear out the rest of your things.”

Carl looked toward the front door, then toward the window that faced the street.

The gray light of the late afternoon was fading, casting long shadows across the living room.

He looked trapped, his breath coming in short, shallow puffs that rattled in his throat.

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

“I have nothing to lose, Carl,” I said. “You are trying to throw me and my boys onto the street. I will do whatever it takes.”

He looked down at his bruised arm again, his jaw working silently.

He knew the law.

He knew that even a false accusation would ruin his reputation with the tenants.