"I guess he started thinking he might still be connected and got scared. He looked me up when he came to Scranton and I could tell there was going to be trouble. He got pushy on the phone-wanted to come forward himself. I told him I'd already turned it in. I phonied up some stuff on a computer, official-like, from the FBI receipting the dough and showed it to him I thought he bought it but I couldn't be sure."
"Why didn't you just skip as soon as you had the dough?"
"I had to set up some names and stuff-bank accounts too. That takes time." Burgess answered quickly, impatience showing in his voice. "And I had to make sure Byrne wasn't going to be a problem," he added.
"But he was. So you followed Byrne to Norfolk and met with him. Where's Jeffrey Byrne now?"
"He drowned. We were supposed to meet up the next day. I guess he was celebrating. Too bad." Once again he moved to the window and looked out. He turned to Dean. "Get up. I can't wait all night. You and me are going for a ride."
"Not unless you have a car. I don't."
"Her keys are here somewhere." Dean could hear Burgess feeling around the nightstand.
"You killed Jeffrey Byrne. He never reached the beach. You met him-where? Out at your motor home? Then you drove your bike, in his car, back to the motel. You lost your tire repair kit in the trunk. That was you who came out of his room and waved to the busboy-wearing Byrne's baseball cap. He was already dead."
"You can't prove I killed Byrne." Dean could hear him rummaging around the television and bureau. Dean moved closer to the door.
"You made a mistake taking the Phillies baseball cap. I found it in your tent."
Dean caught a flash of Burgess's smile in the light of an arriving car. "I've always been a fan. You're smart-a lot smarter than Winston."
"But if he figures it out, he can find you any time he likes."
"Naw. I'm ancient history to him. He and his pals have half the dough and could care less about me."
"He might start thinking if Cynthia Byrne's and David Dean's bodies show up."
"They won't. Just like Jeffrey Byrne's didn't."
"Where is his body?"
"Buried in back of a god-forsaken campground in West Virginia. Got it!" he exclaimed, holding what Dean presumed were Cynthia's car keys.
"Why didn't you just dump him in the Chesapeake where he was supposed to have drowned?" Dean asked as he rose to his feet. Burgess remained several feet away.