The Rich and the Dead (14 page)

Lila was trying to hide behind Effie's slender frame, keeping her eye on the rest of the room.
Is it crazy to wonder if he'll recognize me?
she thought.

“Let me introduce you to my friend Camilla Dayton. She's staying with me until Meredith can find her a house.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Lila said, searching Teddy's bright eyes for any signs of recognition. There were none.

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.” He reached out and shook Lila's hand, his grip firm and solid. “Drinking champagne in the company of beautiful women is more pleasure than any man deserves.”

Meredith walked up to the three of them holding two flutes of champagne, and looking at Teddy with impatience. Lila got the feeling that Meredith didn't appreciate her old friend Teddy giving his attentions to two younger women.

Teddy smiled at her. “Meredith, is one of those champagne flutes for me or are you drinking for two tonight?”

“For you, my dear,” Meredith said, returning his good-natured smile as she handed him the champagne.

Lila suddenly spotted Dylan in the far corner of the room. She took a few steps toward him to get a better look. He was talking with the Nigerian cement titan Johnny Oluwa, one of the Janus Society members.

But her view of Dylan was quickly blotted out by Effie's face. “So,” she loudly whispered, “what do you think of Teddy?” Effie and Lila both looked back toward Teddy, who was caught in some serious-looking conversation with Meredith as the room made merry around them.

“He seems great, Ef, but I'm not sure he's my type,” Lila said. “I mean, look.” She pointed. “I've never seen a man less interested in me.”

“Actually, weird. From this angle he seems kind of into Meredith.” Effie paused, then scoffed. “Yeah, Meredith wishes.”

At that moment, Meredith walked away from Teddy toward the pool. After he'd spent a few minutes standing by himself, his victorious smile somewhat dampened into a tight-lipped curl, Teddy followed her.

“Do you know the guy in the corner?” Lila said, pointing to Dylan and Johnny.

Effie rolled her eyes. “Yes, Camilla, I told you. I know everyone. The white guy you met before. And the black guy's name is Johnny. He's from Africa.”

“Where in Africa?” Lila asked, hoping that Effie knew more than she was letting on.

“Does it matter?”

“And how do they know each other?”

“Dylan's like me, he knows everyone. But I'm pretty sure they went to the same high school. It was for international students. Why? Are you interested in him?” Effie looked closely at Lila. “He is good-looking. But, trust me, you wouldn't be the first woman who tried and failed to land Dylan Rhodes.”

Lila wondered, given how close Dylan seemed to be with a vast number of the society members, why she hadn't come across him when she investigated every man, woman, and child connected to the Star Island twelve.

“Who says I'm trying to land anybody?” Lila laughed, taking a few pictures of Dylan and the rest of the party. “How do you know him, though?”

“God, enough with the questions!” Effie sighed. “He's rich and handsome and famously single. Isn't that all the information you really need?” She gave Lila a gentle poke in the ribs with her elbow, wiggling her eyebrows salaciously.

Lila couldn't help but laugh at Effie's playfulness. Maybe she needed to be around lighthearted people more often.

“Listen, can you get me another champagne?” Effie asked. “I've got to visit the powder room.” She handed Lila her empty glass and crossed the floor, saying emphatic hellos to no less than a dozen people on the way. The last person Effie greeted before she disappeared was Chase Haverford, the man in whose home the Star Island twelve would soon die.

Lila made her way to the bar, which had grown overcrowded with people clamoring for drinks. The smell of crushed mint filled the air as the bartenders hustled to make mojitos in bulk. Lila thought she heard someone saying her name and turned to find Dylan standing next to her, extending a full glass of champagne toward her.

“Hey, sailor,” he said with a smile as Lila took the glass from his hands. She felt a reddish heat crawl up her neck. “How's the head?”

“Head?”

“From where the rope hit. On the dock?”

“Recovering,” Lila said in an affectless tone. “Don't worry. I won't sue.”

“It looks like South Beach is treating you well. You seem like a native already.”

“That's all thanks to Effie,” Lila said. “Just today she invited me to stay at her guesthouse while I'm looking for a place of my own.”

Dylan shot her a quizzical look. “That doesn't sound like the Effie I know.” Lila let out a little laugh, thinking that was what was called for, but from his puzzled expression, she could tell he wasn't joking.

“That's not very nice,” Lila replied, feeling strangely protective of Effie.

“But neither is Effie. Trust me on this one, okay?” He looked around to make sure Effie wasn't in earshot. “Just be careful that all this so-called generosity of hers doesn't come with a hefty price tag. Knowing Effie, it will.”

“Well, she had only nice things to say about you.” Lila sniffed.

“If she's not bad-mouthing me, then I am certain she's up to no good. And speak of the devil,” Dylan said, pointing his head to where Effie was crossing the room toward them. Her face was drained of color, her eyes raw and red as if she'd been crying.

“Listen, Camilla, I was hoping that I could call you sometime. Maybe take you out to dinner?”

As Lila was figuring out what to say, Effie sidled up next to her, wrapping her hands around Lila's arm.

“Hi, Dylan,” she said quickly. “Listen, Camilla, we need to go right now.”

Lila looked at her friend. She was shaking ever so slightly. “What's wrong, Effie?”

“Wrong? Why do you think anything's wrong? I just need to go right now.” Effie pulled Lila's arm toward the door. “I have a terrible headache. Let's go.”

Both women looked at Dylan. “You understand, don't you, Dylan?” Effie murmured.

“More than you know,” Dylan replied, with a sort of melancholy sternness that Lila didn't understand.

CHAPTER 14

L
ILA
'
S CELL PHONE
vibrated on the passenger seat as her car raced down the Overseas Highway toward Key Largo. As she sliced through the tropical throng of the Everglades, she checked to see who was calling. Meredith Sloan. Again. Fourth time since last night. Lila had made an offer on the Star Island house next to Effie's a week ago, just to keep up appearances—an incredibly low one that she knew Meredith would have no choice but to refuse—and now Meredith was calling nonstop with so-called updates on the other bidders. Lila silenced her phone and tossed it into the backseat.

Today there was no Camilla Dayton. Today, Lila Day would exist wholly in her own skin. No pretending. No hiding.

It had been more than a month since she'd traveled to the past, and every day she'd devoted herself to finding the Star Island killer. But today was different. It was November 2. The anniversary of her mother's death, which Lila considered to be the anniversary of her greatest failure.

On November 2, 2015, Theresa Day died from a blood cancer she had battled for years. She died completely alone in her bed, without her two daughters by her side. Lila's only sister, Ava, had been gone for years—she'd fled the country, accused of a crime that Lila was convinced she didn't commit. As far as Lila knew, Ava had no idea their mom was even sick.

As for Lila, the day of her mother's death, she was at the police station working on the Star Island case, too absorbed by her job to know how serious her mom's condition had become. Too stupid to understand how much her mother needed her.

Every November 2 since, Lila had driven down to Key Largo, where her family spent their Christmas vacations when she was a child. They would rent a run-down cottage right on the ocean, collect seashells during the day, and play board games at night. Now, every year on the anniversary of her mother's death, Lila came back to this spot to be alone. It was where she felt closest to her mother's spirit. It was where she'd scattered her mother's ashes.

This day had another layer of strangeness to add to its agonies. Right now, even as Lila was memorializing her mother's death, her mom was still alive. She wouldn't be dead for another year, and there was nothing that Lila could do to stop it.

The thought turned Lila's stomach. She wanted to track down her past self and give her a good talking-to, save herself from all the mistakes she was making at that very moment. She wanted to find that Lila and make her understand that her mom wouldn't be around much longer. She wanted her to pay more attention to the things that mattered.

But she couldn't find her past self. All of her mistakes would need to unfold just as they did before Lila traveled back to 2014. They needed to unfold into this big mess of a life.

She parked her car at Pennekamp Park and walked toward Far Beach. It was a warm day, but the beach was practically empty. Lila sat down, took off her shoes, and dug her toes deep into the cool, fine sand. She closed her eyes and started to let her mind drift.

“Camilla? Is that you?”

Lila bolted upright. She must've fallen asleep because, as she looked around, she realized that the sun was beginning to set and there was a chill coming into the air. She rapidly blinked her eyes, and there, standing above her, was Dylan Rhodes.

“Dylan?” she mumbled, as she tried to get her bearings. “What's going on? How did you get here?”

“Sailing.” He pointed to a sailboat docked a couple hundred feet out in Largo Sound. “Just coming back from the Bahamas.”

“But why are you here, I mean, on this beach?” Lila, still pulling herself out of a deep sleep, was confused and profoundly irritated. She was here to mourn her mother, and this square-jawed Mr. Wonderful was not part of the plan.

“I dropped anchor and kayaked in.” Lila looked over to see a red kayak pulled up on the beach. “This is one of the best spots in the country. But I didn't think anyone knew about it.” He plopped down next to Lila, sitting a bit too close for her comfort.

“Neither did I. That's what I like about it. You can be alone here,” Lila said in a tone so snippy that there was no way Dylan wouldn't pick up on her annoyance.

She felt his eyes on her. There was something about the intense way he looked at her that made Lila uncomfortable.

She gave him a sideways glare. “What?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said, switching the direction of his gaze to the ocean. “I didn't mean to stare. It's just that you look so different than the other times I've seen you.”

A thin current of panic shot through her. Lila was wearing the worn-out jeans and tank top she'd had on the day she arrived from the future. Her hair was up, and her face didn't have a stitch of makeup. Was she exposing the real her, risking her cover?

“Actually,” he said, “I like you better like this. All that other stuff is just gilding the lily, so to speak.”

Lila rolled her eyes, ignoring his attempt at flirting.

“So,” he went on, unfazed. “Where's your new roomie?”

“I haven't the faintest idea,” she replied. “We're separate people, you know.”

“Not from what I've seen,” Dylan said, giving her that teasing smile of his. Lila hated how everything he said sounded like some kind of mix of a jab and a joke.

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning the last time I saw you two, you were practically attached at the hip. It's like she's making you into a mini-Effie. And, trust me, one Effie in the world is quite enough.”

Lila was getting tired of Dylan's constant need to slag Effie. Granted, Effie wasn't going to win any humanitarian-of-the-year awards, but Lila was coming to think of her as a friend.