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“When you mentioned your manicure, I recalled how pretty you looked at the opening.” He gave her a sideways glance.
“Well thank you, Cullen. You looked rather handsome yourself. Us Bodmans clean up real good!” Luna snickered.
Cullen wondered if he should ask her about Gaines and if she had heard from him. Then he thought she would have told him if she had. But then, maybe not. He took a chance. “Have you heard from the marshal?”
Luna didn’t bat an eye. “Nope.” She went to one end of the table. “Come on. Move your heinie.”
“All right. All right.” Cullen made a face and went to the opposite side of the table. “Ready?”
“Yes!” She was practically screaming. “One, two, three!”
They slid the table far enough away for Cullen to get around to the side where the drawer was jammed. He tried to pull it loose but it didn’t budge. “Hand me that putty knife.” He pointed to the wall where all the tools were neatly stored.
Luna grabbed the smallest one and passed it across the table to Cullen. He began to wriggle it between the drawer and the table. “Whoever closed this the last time gave it quite a shove.” Cullen bent down and peeked under the table. “I think maybe you should get underneath so when I can get this blasted knife in the slat, you can push while I pull.”
Luna twisted the bottom of her skirt and tied it in a knot. She grabbed a shop towel and put it on the floor and clambered to the spot. “Glad you swept,” she muttered mockingly from under the table.
Cullen kept trying to wedge the knife. “I need a hammer.”
“Get it yourself,” Luna grumbled. “I’m not budging.”
Cullen slithered between the table and the wall until he was free. He grabbed the nearest hammer and slithered back. He jammed the knife with one hand and gave it a bang with the hammer. A few pieces of old paint flew off. Still, it wasn’t moving. He let out a big sigh.
“What?” Luna mumbled from her position.
“Nothing. I need a crowbar.” Cullen already knew he wasn’t going to get any cooperation from his sister and slithered once again to the tool rack. And back again to the stubborn drawer. “OK. I’m going to pull it out with this. Better get out from under there just in case this whole thing falls apart.”
Luna made disgruntled sounds as her head reappeared. She stood and brushed the dust off her hair.
“I’m going to push the table toward you, so move away from it,” Cullen instructed her. “I need some room to get leverage.” He shook his head. “I’ve never had this much trouble with a piece of furniture, ever. This had better be worth it.”
“Maybe it’s a treasure map!” Luna’s eyes lit up like those of a child whose favorite uncle had just walked in holding a package.
“Just as I said, it’s probably an old grocery list.” Cullen put one foot on the leg of the table and began to pull at the drawer with the crowbar. With a loud crack, the front of the drawer came off, but it still left the rest of the drawer stuck to the table. “Hand me a flashlight, please?”
“Aren’t you Mr. Bossy today?” Luna kidded, as she reached for the torch.
Cullen shot a beam into the dark space. He peered inside, then reached inside. He gently tugged at the paper he had seen. It was an envelope with a name written in cursive on the front.
“Huh,” Cullen muttered. “An envelope. It just says ‘Clive.’ Wonder who he is.” He turned it over in his hand.
“Give me that thing!” Luna reached halfway across the table, practically climbing on top of it. She snatched it out of Cullen’s hand. “We have to open it.”
“Wait. Maybe we should try to find out who Clive is first.”
“Oh yeah. That will be a breeze. I’m sure there are only a couple million of them in the United States.”
“You’re the psychic. Maybeyoucan figure it out.” Cullen was really razzing his sister by then.
“Oh shut it, you. I told you there was something about this table. See?” She waved the envelope at him. “Maybe the name of the owner is within the contents of this envelope,” she mused.
“Maybe. Maybe we should have someone other than us open it,” Cullen suggested.
“Why?” Luna asked with a smirk. “Finders keepers.”
“Oh no, missy. That’smytable.”
She reached in her pocket and pulled out two single dollar bills and placed them on the table. “Here you go. The table now belongs to me.” She folded her arms to indicate the conversation on the subject was over. It was technically hers.
