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

finding a clump of bushes to hide behind.
    The dog became agitated when Stoney dropped down out of sight. He stood up, pointed his snout skyward, and howled. “Yourrrrr!”
    A moment later the Dobie was joined by another dog, similar in color but heavier. Probably a Rottweiler, Stoney thought. The second dog sniffed at the first, then lay down in the grass next to it. A moment later, two men showedup, probably guards. Stoney crouched, motionless, behind his bushes as one of them scoped the woods with a pair of binoculars.
    â€œAnything?” The second guard’s voice carried clearly up the hill.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œStupid mutt. Probably some goddam turkeys again.” He cuffed at the dog. “Get on back up to the house, you!”
    The Doberman looked at the guard, trotted a few steps away; and yowled again. “G’wan, I said,” the guard yelled. “Fuckin’ pain in my ass. Get goin’.” The guard with the glasses gave up, and the two men walked back in the direction they’d come from, followed by the Rottweiler. The Doberman was last, and he paused, turned and looked back at Stoney.
    Yeah, Stoney thought. I see you, too.
    He made his way back north again, came out of the woods almost exactly where he’d entered them. Halfway across the McMansion’s backyard, he noticed a tick crawling up his forearm. He watched it negotiate the hairs on his skin, moving slowly and deliberately. After a few seconds, he flicked the thing off into the grass. Should have killed you, he thought. When he got back inside, he went into one of the bathrooms and examined himself carefully. He found one more, crawling resolutely up his sock. It didn’t squash when he stepped on it, so he wound up flushing it instead. Friggin’ bloodsuckers, he thought. You got to watch yourself every minute….

SEVEN
    S toney stepped out of the elevator and into the front corner of Tommy Bagadonuts’ loft. Straight ahead and to his left, a row of windows looked down on the narrow street, several floors below. To his right was the kitchen area, an island of cabinets, appliances, and countertops in the middle of a long narrow room. Beyond that lay the rest of the living spaces.
    â€œHello?” He craned his neck out, looked around. “Tommy?”
    â€œCome on in.” Tommy was in the office area at the other end of the loft, maybe forty feet away. He got up and hurried across the space between the two of them. Even at home, Stoney thought, the guy always looks well put together. Fat Tommy was wearing a hand-knit wool sweater that emphasized his height and minimized his girth, a carefully creased pair of gray slacks, Italian loafers. Stoney handed the flowers he was carrying to Fat Tommy.
    â€œWhere’s your opera singer?”
    â€œOn tour,” Tommy said, accepting the flowers, holding them out at arm’s length, the better to admire them.
    â€œShe coming back?”
    â€œâ€˜Oo knows,” Tommy said, shrugging expansively. He carried the flowers over to his kitchen and rummaged aroundin a cabinet, fished out a clear glass vase about ten inches high. He filled it with water at the sink, put the flowers in it. He came back, set it down on the end of the counter, and fussed with the flowers until they were arranged to his satisfaction. “Don’ worry,” he said. “I gonna take a nice picture, senda to her the e-mail. Tell her you wasa think about her.”
    Stoney looked at him. “You got e-mail?”
    Tommy drew back. “Yeah, I got e-mail. I wasa buy the compute, maybe two months ago. Tuco wasa come over, set up everything, show me how to use. I tol’ you, very smart boy.”
    â€œYeah, no kidding. Especially for a kid who couldn’t read a year ago.”
    â€œHe gonna be okay, Stoney.” Fat Tommy tapped a thick finger against his temple. “Very smart boy. You an’ me, we wasa do something good with him. You gotta