Without further discussion, without comment, the meeting broke. Only Dan Coleman remained. With his notes he had Tuesday’s paper. “You read it yet?”
“The Pentagon ...”
“The local. Today’s. Look here. Eight hundred and seventy-six units.”
“Eight hundred? Whoa!”
“Up at The Res. It’s already approved. Last night. Some developer from San Diego. God those fuckin idiots want to f**k up northern California just like they’ve done down there.”
“Eight hundred!” Bobby repeated. He took the paper from Dan, laid it open on the conference table. There was a schematic of proposed streets, lots and improvements.
“Eight seventy-six,” Coleman reiterated. “All single family but clustered. Eights, tens, and twelves mostly. It’s a great plan. But great or not, it’s going to ruin The Res. They’re goina ta
