Read Online Dead Cat Bounce by Norman Green - Free Book Online

render an opinion about the house, or even imply that she had one. Stands to reason, he thought. How many houses you gonna sell if you go around telling your customers they got no taste?
    â€œThere are closets all along this back wall,” she said, her steps echoing as she walked across the empty room and pushed on a panel that sprang open to reveal one of the promised closets. It was as empty as the rest of the place. “Down this corridor,” she said, pointing to her left, “is the gourmet kitchen….”
    There was, indeed, a gourmet kitchen, along with a butler’s pantry, a breakfast nook, a formal dining room, a great room, a living room with a fireplace large enough to roast a pig in it, a study, an entertainment room, a laundry, maid’s quarters, five bedrooms, and four bathrooms, not counting the one in the master suite. It also had a panic room in the basement, a steel-doored vault the size of a walk-in closet. The maker’s name was posted on a metal tag affixed to the inside of the door. Stoney followed her from room to room, listened to her spiel withoutcomment. Eventually they found their way back down to the kitchen.
    â€œWell,” she said. “What do you think?”
    â€œBig house,” he said.
    â€œYes,” she said, somewhat uncertainly. “Yes, ahh, it is.”
    â€œMs. Garrett, let me ask you something. You live in town?”
    â€œYes, I do.” She stared at him. “I bet I have the smallest…I, ah, live in a small house, down near the Closter town line. Why do you ask?”
    â€œYou like Alpine?”
    â€œAlpine is a treasure,” she said. “I love it here.”
    â€œSo you don’t want to see it change,” he said.
    â€œI would hate to see it developed,” she said. “You don’t care for the house, do you?”
    â€œHate it,” he told her. “The place is hideous. Can’t imagine what kind of moron would want to live in it.”
    She fought off a smile. “So?”
    He pointed out across the empty dining room, where the woods were visible through the glass sliding doors. “Can you imagine,” he said, “about four hundred town houses just down over the hill, there? Imagine what that would do to this town. Not to mention the strain on the environment.”
    â€œThat will never happen.” She sounded, all of a sudden, a bit less sure of herself.
    â€œThat’s gonna happen quicker than you think,” he said. “You know the old saying ‘A good lawyer knows the law, a great lawyer knows the judge.’”
    She stared at him, openmouthed. “Do you know something I don’t? There’s no way…”
    â€œThis is New Jersey,” he said. “We’ve gotten word that the fix is in.”
    â€œYou have to be kidding. My God. How could this have happened?”
    â€œYou ever hear of a place called Skunk Hollow?”
    â€œWell, I’ve seen the sign, but it’s just a mile or so north of here. I have never stopped to read it. What does that have to do with—”
    â€œWe believe the sign is misplaced,” he told her. “We believe that Skunk Hollow was right down there in those woods. I work for a very wealthy individual who holds the same opinions about development in this town that you do, Ms. Garrett. Now, briefly, not to bore you too much, Skunk Hollow was a pre–Civil War settlement of freed African-Americans. I think that archaeological evidence of that settlement must still exist on that property, but I have been unable to gain access, due to the developer’s concerns about his project. In point of fact, I was threatened with arrest for trespass twice in the past month.”
    â€œLord,” she said. “Well, if they’re smart, they’ll bulldoze whatever’s left before anybody sees it. And if you do find something, you’ll have gained that knowledge unlawfully, won’t you?