"It must have been one hell of a drop," Dean said.
"Angie the Mule heard it was 2.8 million bucks," said Baratto glumly. "I swear on my old lady's head we never touched a nickel of it-never even opened the damn suitcases. We got off the highway where we were supposed to and drove back to Scranton to see the broads."
"Scranton's popping up a lot lately," Dean muttered, more to himself than the others.
"In connection with the Byrne case?" asked Winston, his interest piqued.
Dean dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand, sorry he'd opened his mouth. "It was one of the branches offices Byrne serviced, that's all."
"Hey! Byrne's that guy who was supposed to have drowned! I read about him! Maybe he swiped the dough and skipped!" Baratto looked from one to the other.
"Stop grabbing at straws, Vinnie," Winston said sternly.
"Well, somebody took the dough and it weren't me or the twins."
"When did all this happen?" Dean asked, changing the subject.
"A couple of months ago. Like I told you, when the twins found out half the state was after their ass, they laid low-for a long time, couple of months. The heat wouldn't let up." He stopped to think, an arduous task. "It was a Thursday. I know, because the twins always went up to Scranton on Wednesday night 'cause that's when this country and western band they liked played. That's where they met these broads. It was way back in March."
"What highway was the drop on?" Dean asked.
"I-84. We got off at an exit for a state park. Kingdom Come or something. The closed-down rest stop was just before it. You think maybe Byrne might have swiped the dough?"
It was Winston who answered, anger in his voice. "Vinnie, this guy Byrne's life was as far away from yours as the Pope's from a whorehouse. Just keep talking to me and stop chasing dreams."
Vinnie looked like a hurt kid. "Hey, somebody ripped off the bucks and if you find who, I'm off the hook."
Winston rose and steered Dean out to the porch abruptly. Dean had the feeling he was in trouble and Winston seemed to search for the right words to say. "What's the standing of this Byrne business?" he finally growled.
"It's closed-officially."
"Good. Let's leave it that way. There's not a chance in a million your boy was 50 miles from the drop so don't give Baratto any excuse to clam up on me." Dean started to say something but Winston cut him off. "Let's drop it. Okay?"
Dean, feeling duly chastised, didn't mention the subject again, nor did Baratto. The questioning continued throughout the day but Dean's mind was not on it. It was total nonsense to even consider the million-to-one-shot coincidence that Byrne was somehow involved with the missing money but his mind wouldn't leave it alone. He kept sorting through the facts as he knew them and argued with himself on the long drive back to Parkside. Someone grabbed the dough and Dean didn't believe Baratto or the twins had either the brains or nerve to pull off a heist like that, much less stay mum about it for months. If they had, why stick around and pretend otherwise? It didn't make sense. One thing was certain, Fred O'Connor would jump on this new angle like Ellery Queen! It was right out of one of his books. Too bad it was Wednesday, Atlantic City day.