The day Luke had turned eighteen, he’d dropped out of high school and left home. He’d worked for a chop shop in Atlanta until he’d been arrested for stealing a car and sent to prison.
It didn’t take much intuition to discern why Luke had gone off the rails while the other four were living constructive lives. The earthquake had resulted in two thousand fatalities, but only one Misty River resident had died.
His name had been Ethan. He’d been twelve years old. And he was Luke’s younger brother.
Finley had moved to this town after college, so she’d had no interaction with Luke when he was young. But everyone who’d known him then agreed that he’d been a golden boy before his brother’s death. The natural disaster had ripped from Luke both his brother and his promising future.
And now she was struggling to absorb the realization that this injured, complicated, infamous man knew about her birthday treasure hunt. Even though Luke was hard as slate, he was also, apparently, compassionate enough to grant her father’s dying wish. Which was that Luke . . . protect her?
From what?
She’d been envisioning the hunt as a very personal journey between herself and her father. Perfectly safe, just like all the prior hunts. Resistance was pushing upward inside her at the idea of embarking on this hunt with a stranger.
Gradually, though, an opposing force matched and then surpassed her resistance.
The tug to rehabilitate.
Luke Dempsey was a tragic and thorny case. Many would say he was a lost cause.
Thing was, she had a soft spot for lost causes. It ran contrary to her nature to abandon any creature to its lostness. Over the years, she’d come face to face with numerous ferocious animals. Dogs who’d been beaten. Feral cats. Unbroken horses. There’d even been the memorable case of one very angry raccoon.
So many times she’d sensed, at the deepest level, that God had entrusted a certain wounded creature to her care.
That’s exactly how she felt now. About Luke.
Not a single one of her past “lost causes” had remained a lost cause. No one—no animal or person on earth—was beyond redemption. If she and Luke worked together here at Furry Tails and on her treasure hunt, she’d have double the opportunity to assist in the Restoration of Luke.
“Can you explain the treasure hunt?” he asked.
She told him about their annual birthday tradition during her childhood and how her father had left the first clue in his will.
“How did he plant the rest of the clues? He was in prison for eight years.”
“He must have prepared the hunt, hidden the clues, and gotten his will in order after he’d posted bail and before he went to trial.”
Luke held himself with uncommon stillness, his strong hands resting on the ends of the armrests. “Where’s the first clue now?”
“It’s been in a safe-deposit box for the last few months. My birthday’s on Saturday, so I just went the day before yesterday and picked it up. At the moment, it’s sitting on my kitchen table.”
“I’d hide it.”
She nodded. “I’m completely stumped as to how or why this hunt could put me in danger.”
“My guess is that he hid something valuable for you this time. So valuable that other people might want it.”
“If so, I can’t fathom what the treasure might be.”
“When on Saturday will you open the clue?”
“In the morning, right after I finish eating breakfast. Just like old times.”
“I’ll meet you then.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’d like to be alone when I open the envelope.”
He looked displeased. Luke did displeased very well.
“I won’t go in search of the treasure,” she added. “I’d just like time to . . . process.” Absently, she stroked the warm head of the dog still snoozing on her lap. “How about you come over for dinner on Sunday night? I’ll show you the letter then.”
Another serving of Displeased Luke.
“If you’re going to be involved with this treasure hunt—” she began.
“Which I am.”
“Then you’re going to have to enter into my life at least a little. And compromise with me. We’ll need to do this on my schedule. Both my literal work schedule and my emotional grieving schedule.”
“How long do you think it will take to finish the hunt?”
“When I was young, the hunts were quick and easy. I could finish one in thirty minutes. During my teenage years, they became more and more elaborate. The last one took me a couple of months to complete. He had me crisscrossing North Georgia on weekends.”
Luke looked like she’d just informed him they’d have to go to the town dump and sort through every item of trash. “In order to protect you, I’ll need you to share all the information you have about the hunt, your dad’s arrest, his career, his family, his friends, his mistakes, his money. Will you do that?”
“I . . . guess?” She hadn’t had to answer to anyone in years.
“Finley.”
“Fine.”
“Who else knows about the treasure hunt?”
“Just my dad’s attorney.”
“Name?”
“Rosco Horton.”
“We can’t trust anyone,” he said. “No one other than you, me, and Rosco can know anything about this.”
“I haven’t told anyone. And I won’t.”
“Good.” He moved as if to rise.
“Not so fast.”
He returned to his seat.
“Since you’re asking for concessions,” she said, “it’s only fair for me to ask you for something.”
“I’m listening.”
“Furry Tails really does need a revamped website. So if you’re going to stay on, I’d ask that you complete the site, regardless of how quickly we complete the hunt.”
“I’ll finish your website.”
No one had ever mistaken her for a hard-nosed capitalist, and talking about finances made her itchy. That said, she was a businesswoman and transparency was one of her highest ideals. “Also, Furry Tails can afford to pay your salary, but I didn’t budget bodyguard payroll into my monthly personal expenses.”
His hazel eyes could cut diamonds. “I don’t want you to pay me anything extra.”
“Okay then. You and me. Treasure hunt partners?” This really was the most unlikely pairing ever.
“Partners,” he agreed.