"SO KURT, HAVE YOU ever played HORSE?" Tucker draped his suit jacket over the bleachers in the community center. He added his tie and began rolling up his shirt sleeves.
"Sure. But my grandma got mad at me for knocking over some stuff with the broom handle."
A kid with an imagination. He liked that. "Not that kind of horse, my little man. The game with a basketball."
The boy shook his head.
"Ever shot a basketball?" He grabbed one off the rack at the side of the gym.
Again with the head shake.
Was Kurt too young for this? Bringing him here for some low-key b-ball was the only thing Tucker could think of to do on a weekday morning in August when it was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. He needed the AC to ensure he was at least moderately presentable for Judge Carpenter later. Other than the two of them, the place was nearly deserted. A handful of blue-hairs moseyed on the second-floor track surrounding the basketball court.