Marlene’s eyes gleamed with respect. She handed over the heavy steel tool.
Working together, they managed to loosen the tension band. Caleb pried off the heavy fiberglass lid, releasing a hiss of trapped air and the strong smell of chlorine. Inside, murky water sat above a thick bed of filtration sand.
Marlene handed him a small plastic trowel from her bucket. "Dig carefully. We don't want to rupture the laterals at the bottom."
Caleb rolled up his pajama sleeves, plunged his arms into the freezing water, and began scooping out wet sand. After about ten minutes of agonizing, back-breaking work, his trowel hit something solid. It wasn't the plastic piping of the filter. It was smooth and cylindrical.
He dug with his hands, finally gripping a thick handle. With a grunt of effort, he pulled.
A large, custom-sealed PVC pipe, capped heavily at both ends and wrapped in industrial waterproof tape, broke the surface of the water. It was incredibly heavy.
They hauled the heavy tube onto the concrete deck. Marlene took a utility knife from her belt and sliced through the thick layers of tape, unscrewing the cap.
Inside, tightly vacuum-sealed in plastic, were stacks of hundred-dollar bills, perfectly preserved and dry.