Now Remy and I were in my Silverado, headed back to the Homewood.

“Twenty-four hours ago,” Remy said, “I was sure our double was linked to drugs.”

I shook my head. “And now it’s about a damn ghost gun.”

“When you stepped out to talk to Abe,” Remy said, “Wolf made this statement. Like he wanted us to know. These guys are makers, P.T. Craftsmen.”

“I’ll tell you what they’re crafting, Rem. Goddamn weapons.”

“Sure, but they’re not all nuts, P.T. A lot of these guys are pro-freedom. Pro-open-source. Pro—”

“Don’t tell me you’ve got sympathy for Wolf,” I said.

Remy shrugged and went quiet for a minute. Had my partner somehow gotten liberal in the time I’d been suspended?

“Let’s get water-tight on our current theory,” I said.

“Sure.” Remy nodded. “So Carilla was hired by some unknown person to carry a 3D-printed M24 sniper rifle up to Mason Falls for some meeting.”

“Check.”

“He had two buddies who ran drugs up here, and they knew the routes,” Remy said. “Carilla decides to make a road trip of it with them. He gets protection. They know the area and he cuts them in.”

“Copy that,” I said.

“We know from transactions on Vinorama’s debit card that the other two stopped near the Georgia–Florida line,” Remy said. “Crashed for the night at a Comfort Inn.”

I changed lanes and got off 909, heading back toward the Homewood Suites. A sleeping bag lay discarded in the grassy median between the north and southbound sides of the highway.

“Vinorama and Dilmendes picked up Carilla and his package the next afternoon,” I said. “Drove up here. But they’re early for the drop. They go drinking at Tandy’s Tuesday night. Buy those T-shirts. At some point along the way, Carilla opens the case.”

“He realizes that what he’s carrying is worth a whole lot more than he’s being paid,” Remy said. “And he gets greedy. Sends that text on Wednesday that we found in his phone. To the unknown cell number. Asking for a pay bump.”

“More scratch,” I said, using Carilla’s words.

Remy nodded.

“Whoever he texted,” I said, “they called the old guy to come get the gun and get rid of Carilla and his two buddies. But Carilla got out of the car. He escaped.”

“That’s when the old guy opens the case,” Remy said. “Goes back to his hotel and puts together what he can of the M24. Realizes he’s missing the trigger assembly and the trigger guard.”

I nodded. It all tracked.

“So what would you do next?” Remy asked. “If you’re this old assassin.”

“If I’m him, the whole situation has gotten hotter than I probably anticipated. A sting at a bar? Cops chasing me and Carilla out into a forest? If I’m that old guy, I’m thinking that I didn’t get paid enough for this shit.”

We turned onto Tanus Road toward the Homewood Suites, and I slowed, seeing Abe’s Lexus SUV parked alongside a cruiser in front of a Cracker Barrel about four blocks down from the hotel.