Arthur Sterling shifted his weight on the gravel and cleaned his glasses with a microfiber cloth before tucking it back into his jacket pocket.

“It is not four hundred dollars, Mr.

Whitaker,” Arthur said slowly.

“It is felony extortion and forgery.”

“She’s my ex-wife,” Mark said, his jaw tightening.

“We negotiate.”

“You sent her a text message demanding twenty thousand dollars to vacate a house you do not own,” the supervisor said.

Mark took a short, shallow breath and pressed his palms together behind his back.