Lee greeted Hurley with her usual warmth when he entered the Jade Garden with Fargo in tow at nine minutes past seven that evening. “Sheriff, how nice to see you again,” Mrs. Lee said. “You have a companion?” “Yes, Mrs. Lee, this is Mr. Fargo. He and I would like a booth in the back.” “Certainly, of course, come this way.” Hurley had driven over in the SUV while Fargo had followed him in his Mercedes. It had begun to rain again, and Hurley had driven carefully so as not to lose Fargo in the night. Mrs. Lee led them to a booth where the men removed their hats and coats, tossed them onto the benches ahead of them, and seated themselves. Mrs. Lee brought them a pot of hot tea and two jade-green menus. Plates were already on the table, along with chopsticks wrapped in red linen napkins. “I already know what I want,” Hurley said. He turned to Fargo and said, “I’ll order for both of us to save time.” Fargo scanned the menu briefly but chose to submit to Hurley’s play to take control.
