Page 106 of The Love Losers

I sleep until noon and then tell my mother and Emma about the text message Rosie got from my phone. We check the countdown website for what must be the thousandth time, but it’s still blank other than the opening message and the countdown, steadily getting closer to New Year’s Eve.

We settle around the fireplace in the drawing room, my mother on her settee and Emma in the leather chair while I alternately pace and lean against the fireplace.

“It must be Nina,” Emma says, waving a hand and sitting back in her chair. The tree is listing a bit behind her, but Motherhas announced that decorators will be arriving on Thursday to take it down and prepare for the New Year’s party.

Which might or might not still be my wedding.

I rub my forehead. “It does seem like something Nina would do.”

“Well, we’re in luck,” Emma says, her eyes flashing with amusement. “Because Anthony said he’s ‘taking care of her.’”

“I am,” I reply with annoyance, leaning back against the fireplace again. My gaze travels upward for half a second to Mark’s urn. Then my father’s empty one. My muscles seize up a little and I look away.

“Yes, of course,” my mother puts in evenly. “I’m sure you’ll be very intimidating. Even so, we should call those private investigators with an update.”

So we gather at the drawing room table and call them on speaker phone. Nicole answers on the first ring.

“Merry Christmas,” I say.

“Was it?” she muses. “Didn’t sound like it was going to go down very well for you. I heard Rosie is going to New York City for New Year’s.”

My mother’s gaze swings to me, and I shake my head. “No, not anymore,” I say. “I went to see her last night.”

“Go on.”

“I hitched a ride on a snowplow.”

“Een-teresting. You’re more enterprising than I thought. I don’t hate it.”

She’s turned this into an interrogation of me, but I’m not feeling patient enough for it to circle back around. So I cut in and tell her about the text message Rosie got from my phone.

“Did you try using the Find My Phone app?” Damien asks after I finish.

“Yes,” I say, trying not to sound impatient.

“And nothing showed up?” Nicole asks.

“No.”

“I’m guessing you’re not the sort of go-getter who changes his passwords on the daily?”

“No,” I admit, rubbing my forehead. I feel like I did after someone in Tech Support asked me to try restarting my computer—and it worked.

“Yeah, so the phone thing was obviously Nina,” she says.

Emma snaps her fingers and makes an air gun at me.

“But how’d she find it in the first place?”

“I’m guessing she used your password to log onto Find My Phone and tracked you down. She probably saw an opportunity to grab the phone and went for it. Lucky for us, we have some dirt on her and the Volleyball.”

“Volleyball?” I repeat as Emma snorts.

“Wilson,” my sister explains. “Like the sports brand.”

“Yeah, turns out he likes to partake in illegal poker games in addition to psychedelic teas. You know, I gotta say, this guy does it right.”

Damien clears his throat. “And there’s compelling evidence that Nina has been stealing from him.”

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