Daniel didn’t try to stop him. He was staring at me, the polished facade melting away to show the thug underneath.

“A cop?” he whispered. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small black device with an antenna. He flipped a switch. A green light blinked on.

My phone, in my pocket, buzzed once and went dead.

“Signal jammer,” Daniel said, terrifyingly calm. “Military grade. Used to secure properties during hostile evictions. No cell service. No Wi-Fi. The landlines have been cut since last week.”

He crossed to the heavy oak front door, threw the deadbolt, and slid the security chain into place. He did the same to the patio doors.

“You think you can walk into my house and destroy my life?” He picked up the iron fire poker from the hearth and tapped it rhythmically against his palm.