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“Like I said, if this marshal thing doesn’t work out . . .”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll work on a stand-up routine.”
Luna stuck her head into the café. “Sabrina? Hey! I’ll be back in about ten minutes. I’ll take Wiley with me now.”
“No problem,” Sabrina called back, as she was frothing someone’s mocha latte. “He’s been very good while you were gone.”
Cullen was taking down one of the ceiling fixtures someone had purchased the night before. “Hey, guys.” He looked at all the shopping bags. “What’s all this, Luna?”
“Ha. Not mine.” She broke into a hillbilly accent. “This here marshal done himself some shoppin’. Got hiz-self some purdy dishes and glasses. Real kinda glasses. Not them jelly jars, and guess what? They all match! Yes indeedy. . . bought hiz-self some fine things, he did.”
Gaines hooted. “You people are too much fun.”
Luna smiled her biggest smile. “And so are you, Marshal.”
“Nah. I’m just a good audience.” He blushed. “Hey man, let me give you a hand.” He set the shopping bags down and grabbed the bottom of the chandelier.
“Thanks,” Cullen said.
“So I was going to ask you about that table. The one that your sister has grown attached to, but I fear she will cross me off her Christmas-card list if I try to buy it from you.”
“What makes you think you’re on any list of mine?” she huffed, enjoying the banter.
“Could I have one more look at it? Maybe you’ll be able to find something like it for me?” Gaines asked.
“Sure. Come on back.” He carried the chandelier to the workshop and set it down.
The three of them approached the table as if it were about to come alive. Gaines didn’t want to usurp Luna’s claim to it, Cullen didn’t want either of them to be disappointed, and Luna was getting some kind of vibe. Almost like a cry for help.
She was the first to reach the table. She pulled her maxi dress to her knees and crawled under it.
“Now that’s no way to claim it. Make it your fort?” Gaines teased.
Luna surveyed the underside of the table. She felt that there was something.
“You all right under there?” Gaines leaned over to take a look.
Luna was feeling the seams that joined the side trim to the tabletop. Then she felt something. “Cul? You got a flashlight handy?”
“Coming up.” He pulled one off the pegged wall that held dozens of hand tools.
He handed it to Gaines, who handed it to Luna. “What is it?” Gaines asked.
“Looks like a piece of paper. Maybe the corner of an envelope. I don’t want to pull on it. It might rip. Got a tweezer? Or needle-nose pliers?”
“Yep.” Cullen grabbed a small tool with a slanted point he used to peel off leftover veneer.
Another hand-over to Gaines to Luna. “Looks like there are a few pieces stuck together. I’m not going to get them out this way. There appears to be a drawer that’s jammed. You’re going to have to take the table apart.”
“OK. But not today. I have to pack the light fixture and finish Mrs. Lowery’s mantel.”
Luna crawled out from underneath. Gaines put his hands up as if she were pointing a gun at him. “Not me. I have places I need to be, and pronto.”
“I know. I know. But see? I told you there was something about this table. Na-na na-na na. Na.”
“Cute. Isn’t she?” Cullen shook his head.
“Rightly charming.” Gaines folded his arms in satisfaction, not as in shielding.
