Michael strolls out to see his visitor. It's Lincoln, who wants the 411 on whether or not Michael's got a plan. The two are awfully terse with one another; I imagine Linc feels awkward nattering on about a crush mere days after Michael became single again, and Michael probably does not want to be all, "By the way, I sort of killed someone today." The useful item in the exchange: Linc passes on the news that James Whistler may also be Gary Miller of Scottsdale, Arizona. Michael dryly says, "I'm shocked."
We cut back to Sofia, who is pulling a brushed aluminum-clad briefcase from the bag. She stares at it, clearly thinking, "So my boyfriend's really working for Marcellus Wallace?" We'll all find out next week if that's the case.