Page 57 of The Love Bandits

“I have to admit, though,” Nicole says, “I’m glad she didn’t call the authorities last night. This is more interesting than anything that’s happened since Lainey stole that therapist’s necklace.”

“Still me,” I say.

My phone buzzes, and I take it out. There’s a message from Roark—13 days—and a longer one fromAnthony.

Pulse picking up, I check my “buddy’s” message.

Thank you, Jake. My mother says next Sunday at my place for the tea. But would you be available to talk before that?

It’s probably too much to hope that he’ll confess to a near-stranger that he conspired with Nina to steal his mother’s prize jewelry, but who knows? Stranger things have happened, and if I’ve learned one thing about Anthony from the past few weeks, it’s that he’s desperate for someone to talk to.

I type out a quick reply.

Of course, man. My afternoons are wide open. What works for you?

Would Friday be okay? Nina’s going to a Halloween party with her friends.

But he’s not going with her. Is this a further sign of trouble, or is he too WASPy to put on a mask?

Possibly both.

I confirm that I’m good for a Halloween meetup and show the phone to Nicole.

She nods. I feel the enormity of having to hang out in this house until at least Friday. Probably Saturday. It should make my skin crawl. But instead I’m almost…excited.

Elaine will be here.Iwill be here. For days.

Will she agree to make good use of it?

Nicole laughs. “Are you going to dress up?”

“Yes,” I say. “As Jake Jeffries.”

Again, I’m surprised by how refreshing it feels to talk openly about this sort of thing. To be straightforward about who I am and who I’ve been.

Nicole makes an amused sound, then says, “Friday’s several days away.”

I pointedly grab a butter knife from the drawer and add jam to my toast. “Elaine works for the old woman. Maybe she can figure out a way to get Anthony and Nina out of their house. If I know they’ve cleared out, I can get in and take a look around. See if I can find anything.”

“Theywouldn’t leave something like that lying around,” she says.

“Mine was a fake,” I say, immediately feeling like a petulant child. “And it wasn’t exactly lying around.”

Or at least it wasn’t lying around the second time.

She stares at me for a few seconds before saying, “Lainey’s friend thinks she saw Mrs. Rosings’s daughter at the house. She’s another possible suspect.”

“So we’ll look into her too.”

“Correction: Damien and I will look into her. She lives in Charlotte, and you, my thieving friend, are not taking any field trips.”

Frustration ripples through me. I want to be able to do what I want, when I want. But I also don’t want to trigger the doomsday clock. I don’t want to convince her to turn me in.

“Tormenting our guest?” Damien says, coming down the stairs. When he reaches the kitchen, he wraps his arm around Nicole, who smiles up at him.

“Doing what I do best.”

He shifts his gaze to me as I bite into my toast. “So you didn’t try to run. I’d wondered if we were going to get woken up by sirens.”

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