"He was an embezzler," Marlene corrected, stepping away from the filter and crossing her arms. "For twenty years, Arthur skimmed off the top of his firm's wealthiest, most corrupt clients. People who couldn't report the missing money to the police. He amassed quite a fortune in untraceable cash and bearer bonds."
"And how do you know this?" Caleb demanded.
Marlene offered a tight, humorless smile. "Because I helped him launder it. I ran a cash-heavy antique business downtown for decades. We had a... partnership. But when Arthur felt the feds closing in on his firm last year, he panicked. He pulled our entire emergency stash, hid it, and refused to tell me where. Then, his heart gave out on his front lawn."
She pointed a gloved finger at the bulky pool filter.
"I’ve spent six months trying to figure out where a paranoid man hides three million dollars on a quarter-acre lot. Then, last week, you complained to me that your pool pump was straining and the filter pressure was running unusually high. I realized he hadn't buried it in the dirt. He buried it in the sand."
Caleb stared at the large beige tank. It was nearly three feet tall and held over three hundred pounds of pool sand. It was the perfect, waterproof vault.
"I'm opening it, Caleb," Marlene said firmly, picking the wrench back up. "You can call the cops, and they'll seize it all as evidence. Or you can help me, and I'll leave one of these white buckets behind for you."
For a long moment, the only sound was the wind rustling through the bare oak trees. Caleb thought about his mounting mortgage, the credit card debt he was drowning in, and the sheer absurdity of the morning.
He set the flashlight on the patio table and walked over to the pool pad. "Give me the wrench. You don't have the leverage to pop the lid."