“Let’s try this,” she said. “Tell me what you know about The Dream, and I’ll be on my way.” “If I knew something, I’d tell you. Why is this Dream person dangerous? What did he do?” She leaned closer. “He murdered two men in cold blood.” “I never have gotten that saying. In cold blood. What does that even mean?” Agent Uribe gritted her teeth. “It means he showed no remorse. He feels no empathy.” The waitress walked back over. “Do you want to ordah somethin’ to eat?” “No, tha—” “Absolutely. I’m famished.” Samuel smiled and picked up the menu. “Hmm . . . are the jalapeño poppers good?” “If you like hot.” Samuel pursed his lips. “Maybe the burger, beer, and fries. What’s a Narragansett? Wait, isn’t that the name of a town?” Uribe was glaring at him. “They make lagahs,” the waitress said. “Eh, maybe I shouldn’t have a beer. What about . . . kabobs? You serve kabobs? That’s interesting.” “Is that what you’d like?” The waitress sounded slightly annoyed. “No, I don’t think so. Just give me a cheeseburger and fries.” He folded the menu. The waitress wrote down the order and went back into the…