“I’d made so many bad decisions that I don’t think I would have found my way out of my situation on my own. Prison took me out of my situation. Inside, I couldn’t run away or sleep around. I couldn’t drink alcohol, do drugs, or steal cars. The thing I could do . . . was change.” He shrugged—a tight gesture that attempted to minimize the enormity of what he’d been through. “I had to figure out who I was and find the strength to get through.”

“You also pursued college degrees while you were on the inside.”

“That’s true.”

Their tour guide poked her overbite between them. “If you’re finished here, I’ll escort you to the gift shop.”

They’d decorated the large gift shop with gold rush flair. Slowly, Finley made her way down the first row of goods, Luke following.

Ill-gotten gains indeed. He was going to get a piece of her mind about that. But not today. He’d unburdened himself more than she’d expected. She didn’t want to immediately make him regret confiding in her.

She came to a display of glass vials containing gold nuggets. Memories flickered at the back of her mind. She picked up a vial, recognizing its old-fashioned black-and-white sticker. Her dad had purchased one of these for her. She’d played with it in the woods, pretending to be a rich princess ruling a kingdom of animals. “I think I know where we’ll find the next clue.”

A man watched Luke’s Chevy turn out of the gold mine in the direction of Highway 115.

He eased from his parking place. He’d tail them as long as he could, until he determined where they were headed. Or until he ran the risk of raising suspicion. Whichever came first.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I have keepsake boxes,” Finley announced when they arrived at her home after leaving the gold mine.

Luke waited while she greeted her weird hedgehog, enthusiastic dog, and grumpy cat. Then he followed her to her hall closet. Inside, several large boxes with lids rested on shelves.

“One contains mementos from my baby years,” she explained. “Another from when I was a child, another from my high school years, another from my college years. I kept my vial of gold nuggets, and I think it’s in this one.” She pointed to a box above her head.

He lifted it down.

In her kitchen, he set it on the table. She slid out of her coat, folded it over the back of a chair, and began digging through the box.

Luke worked to remain neutral because he was afraid to let himself hope that this hunch of hers might pay off. Once, he’d been very good at remaining neutral because he honestly hadn’t cared about most things.