Free The Rich and the Dead by Liv Spector

ass.”
    The ride was ten minutes of sheer terror for Lila. Effie didn’t see a wave she didn’t want to smash straight into. Lila couldn’t believe that while she, a seasoned cop, was in a state of panic, Effie was utterly placid.
    This girl just may be crazy, Lila thought.
    Finally, the boat pulled up to one of the many docks on Fisher Island, and Lila gave a silent prayer of thanks that they’d arrived safe and sound.
    â€œCome on, Manhattan,” Effie said, tossing the tie line to one of the boys standing at attention on the dock. “Let me show you how we do things here in the Sunshine State.”
    The Fisher Island Club was breathtaking. The Spanish Colonial roof had been tiled by an artisan imported from Madrid. Each blade of grass on the entire island was manicured with ferocious precision. There were four staff for every member, and it showed. Two doormen dressed in matching white linen shirts opened the wooden front doors as Effie and Lila breezed through.
    The doormen bowed deeply for Effie. The Websters were charter members and therefore expected to be treated deferentially by all those lucky enough to wobble around in their wake. The family’s revered status in the South Beach social scene was proof positive of Teddy’s claim that becoming a senior member of any of Miami’s institutions takes less time, and more money, than you’d think.
    Lila looked around the first floor of the club and saw the entire South Beach social scene, in all its splendor, laid out before her. Everyone within sight bore the marks of extreme wealth and the relaxed, self-important insouciance that it buys. The room was a sea of tanned skin, straight white teeth, and hair that screamed effort-filled effortlessness. It was like a summer camp for billionaires.
    â€œThat’s Scott and Meredith Sloan at the bar,” Effie said, pointing to a rather dashing couple visibly scowling at each other. “It looks like they’re already fighting. By the end of the night, they’ll practically be scratching each other’s eyes out. Come on, I want to introduce you to them.” Lila was curious to see how Meredith Sloan and Effie would interact, whether anything they said or did would hint at the fact that they shared membership in the Janus Society.
    Meredith had a severe sort of beauty, with her long caramel-colored hair and the hollow look of a woman who existed purely on liquids and willpower. Her husband was turned toward her, with his back to the room. As Lila and Effie walked up to the couple, Lila noticed that Scott had Meredith’s tiny wrist in his hand.
    â€œDon’t make a goddamned scene again, dear,” Lila heard Meredith hiss. “If you want to get colorful, wait until we get home.” Meredith, seeing that Effie was approaching, switched her face from withering to welcoming with a swiftness Lila had only ever seen from Effie herself.
    â€œDarling Effie!” Meredith cried, wresting her wrist from her husband. “How are you?”
    â€œI’m perfection, and so glad you’re both here because I wanted to introduce you to my very good friend, Camilla Dayton. She’s fresh off the boat from New York. Camilla, this is Meredith and Scott Sloan.”
    The wave of sadness that had hit Lila when she first saw Effie revisited her now. Meredith Sloan, yet another of the Star Island killer’s victims, would be dead within months. And here she was, drinking, laughing, battling with her husband, as if the life before her stretched on indefinitely.
    Studying Effie and Meredith as they smiled at each other, Lila looked carefully for anything out of the ordinary between them, any subtle hint that there was much more uniting them than the Fisher Island social scene, but their body language betrayed nothing. Both appeared to be experts at keeping secrets.
    â€œAre you staying in Miami long?” Scott asked as he swayed slightly from side to side. He