Chapter 85

“How big is it?”

Nineteen seconds. “Hmm?”

“The cub? How old?”

Tucker opened his eyes. “Three months.”

“How come he doesn’t have a name?”

“The public gets to name him. They’re having a contest.”

“‘They’? Not ‘we’?”

“I tend to the animals. I don’t get involved in that sort of stuff.”

“Ah. What happened to your hands?”

Tucker let his head fall back against a metal pillar holding up the roof overhead. It made a clanging sound. “You had to know why the cub had no name and his age. Sooo…what? You thought you could just slip that other question in again after all the easy ones?”

“Old reporter trick. You tied that door up pretty easily. I can barely tie my shoes.”

“That why you wear slip-ons?”

“You’re good with it—them.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Chad.”

“Okay. Fair enough. If we had some records, it’d be just like old times.” He started singing. “Wise men say…only fools rush in—”