Chapter 77: The Old Fox from the IRS

Hannah's half-joking, half-testing little scheme didn't succeed, but she hung up the video call satisfied.

Jack continued with his French cooking. Preparing beef bourguignon was somewhat complex, and he couldn't find authentic Charolais beef, so he used high-quality tenderloin and made some adjustments to the recipe.

If you exclude extremely expensive ingredients like black truffles and caviar, many French cuisine ingredients are quite affordable. Jack chose to focus more on the cooking process; otherwise, simply boiling a genuine Breton lobster (French blue lobster) would also count as a fine meal.

Next was French onion soup, followed by Niçoise salad and a Basque cherry cake. Jack took a satisfied breath; the timing was perfect, just waiting for the guest to arrive.

Although his advanced cooking skills couldn't create dishes that shimmer with legendary golden light, they were enough to satisfy most gourmet critics' picky tastes.

At exactly 8:30, the doorbell rang. A thin, elderly man with a bald head and wearing a formal suit appeared at Jack's door.

Seeing the old man, Jack couldn't help but laugh inwardly. First, Batman left, and now Commissioner Gordon arrived. He wondered if he could gather all the famous characters from the DC and Marvel universes for a couple of mahjong tables in the future; that would be interesting.

"Sorry to intrude, Mr. Tavore. I'm Ray King from the Treasury Department." The old man introduced himself seriously, unaware of Jack's fanciful thoughts.

"It's an honor. Please come in."

Seeing the God of Wealth arrive, Jack's smile became even more welcoming.

Ray King walked into the living room and noticed Jack's unusually styled Eight Immortals Table, a hint of a smile appearing on his face.

"I didn't expect Mr. Tavore to be so multi-talented. This table has a unique craftsmanship."

"Just call me Jack. It's just a small hobby of mine. The kitchen cabinets are also my own handiwork."

The old man had a keen eye. Jack's heart skipped a beat. Though his woodworking skills weren't yet advanced, he had put a lot of effort into making this table, using sturdy oak and carving intricate patterns, which the old man had spotted at a glance.

"I often appraise antique furniture. I can see that although this table's craftsmanship is still a bit immature, it has its unique style."

As the saying goes, 'A gift demands something in return.' This old fox's flattery indicated that the trouble must be significant.

Jack took out two plates of pan-seared foie gras from the warmer. Wesley, the rich second generation, had brought a bottle of wine from the Harlan Estate, which now came in handy. Although it was only the second label, "The Maiden," it was still quite valuable. They had sealed it up after only a slight tasting.

"This is the most delicious French foie gras I've ever had on the West Coast."

King squinted his eyes in appreciation, giving a sincere compliment.

Although Jack didn't strictly follow the five-course French dining process, he covered all the bases: appetizer, soup, hot entree, main course, and dessert.

After tasting the final dessert, Basque cherry cake, King couldn't help but sigh.

"It's a pity you're an LAPD patrol officer instead of a Michelin restaurant chef."

The old man realized his unintended slight and quickly added.

"Of course, I don't mean to belittle your profession, but as an old foodie—"

Jack smiled as he brewed a pot of black tea, setting out milk and sugar, and motioned for him to help himself.

"I understand what you mean. Maybe someday when I'm no longer a cop, I'll consider opening a restaurant. My home is always open for you to visit. In fact, compared to French cuisine, I'd rather treat my guests to a variety of Chinese dishes."

"I'd love that. Before we get to the main topic, could you tell me about your relationship with him?"

Ray King sipped his tea, his gaze friendly but with a hint of scrutiny, perhaps due to his professional nature.

Talking with someone of his age required utmost caution; it wasn't about trust but about avoiding misunderstandings with this old fox.

After careful consideration, Jack spoke.

"To be precise, I'm Chris's 'doctor,' currently providing him with psychological counseling. I'm also one of his few friends."

Jack deliberately used a more familiar name for Christian Wolff. In the original series, Ray King and the Accountant had a subtle relationship; although they cooperated and knew each other's backgrounds, they only met once and were always wary of each other.

King was a bit surprised by this answer. He knew Jack had many talents but didn't expect him to be a good cook and have doctoring as a side job.

"Don't misunderstand. I don't practice medicine, nor do I charge fees. It's just some traditional skills passed down in my family."

Jack took out a packet of silver needles to show him, "With a bit of psychological suggestion, it helps him sleep better."

Ray King showed a look of sudden realization, though it was unclear if he truly believed it or was just pretending.

Jack didn't want to engage in convoluted traditional medicine theories with this cunning old fox. He didn't know much about this mysterious IRS supervisor, and talking too much could backfire, especially if the other party was knowledgeable.

Nowadays, you encounter all kinds of people; in his past life, he even met a Canadian girl online who could type Chinese fast and discuss political theories as fluently as he could.

"Chris mentioned you had some trouble. I don't understand what an IRS matter needs a small patrol officer for, but since you're his friend, I'll do my best to help."

His implication was clear: my relationship with him is closer than yours, so there's no need to test me. You're the one asking for help.

Ray King's wrinkled old face showed no sign of embarrassment and seamlessly continued.

"I have a subordinate who went silent during an undercover infiltration mission, which has lasted six weeks. The latest intel shows he was spotted near the LA County Museum of Art, but he hasn't contacted me. I need someone to find him."

Jack refilled his teacup, thinking for a moment, then asked, "Since you're seeking my help, is it because of internal issues, or do you suspect he's turned?"

Ray King's smile widened, his face resembling a blooming chrysanthemum, "I like smart young people like you. Have you considered joining the IRS?"

Jack spread his hands, "Sorry, you're a step too late. Someone already invited me before you did. Besides, I know nothing about financial and tax laws and absolutely hate going undercover."

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