“It has occurred to me that my dad might’ve told you—at any point over the last several years—about the treasure hunt and the valuable thing he’d saved for me. And that you want it for yourself. So you concocted the story of my dad’s dying wish.”

Gradually, a wolfish grin overtook his face.

“Why are you smiling?” she asked. “I just accused you of potentially having evil motives.”

“I’m smiling because I respect that accusation. It’s clever and logical.” Also painful, because he deserved her suspicion. He was an ex-con who had not been wrongly convicted. In fact, he’d stolen many more cars than the one he’d been arrested for stealing. “You shouldn’t trust me.”

“Does that mean that you do have evil motives?”

“In this situation, no.”

“I believe you.”

“What?” he barked. “Don’t believe me so easily.”

“But I do believe you. My intuition about people is sound.”

“Clearly not, if you’re so quick to accept my word. I’m a criminal.”

“It’s not that I’m gullible, Luke. It’s that, if my intuition tells me a person is good, then I make the conscious choice to see them as good. Regardless of their past. I see you as good.”

How was he supposed to reason with a person like this?

“If you lied to me just now and your motives are evil,” she said, “it’s all right. You won’t have to take the treasure from me. I’ll just give it to you.”

He paused, disbelief surging. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I have everything I need.” She shrugged. “If you don’t have everything you need, you can have the treasure.”

“First, I do have everything I need. Second, you don’t even know what the treasure is. Now is not the time to give it away.”

“I know myself, and I’ll only feel attached to it if it’s something that has emotional significance. But even then, I could just take a picture to remember it by. I won’t keep it because I don’t want to own anything that could bring me harm.”

“In that case, you can sell it. And put the money in your retirement account.”

She didn’t look impressed.

“Or donate the money to the Center,” he said.

“I’ve already funneled some of the money my dad gave me into Furry Tails. At this point, Furry Tails needs to be self-sustaining.”

He’d misread her. She was not a cream puff. She was unusual. Too honest and too generous for her own good. But she was also, in her way, very determined.

He didn’t want her to blindly put her faith in him, yet . . . he did want to show her that, this time, her faith hadn’t been misplaced.