A quiet grave lay at the corner of St. Francis Xavier Cemetery. There was no headstone. Not even a metal nameplate. Just a patch of grass, neatly trimmed and unassuming. There was no clue whatsoever that Tommy Burress’s body had been laid to rest in the plot next to his father and the place reserved for his mother. If it hadn’t been for his long-time friend and coworker, Linda Nally, Burress’s resting place may still be little more than a patch of grass.