But in her heart she knew Tonia at least would never understand. She had loved Ralph with a consuming devotion. Perhaps some of it had been ambition, seeing his possibilities, and his hunger to achieve them, and maybe more than a little of it had been the pride of ownership. The most charming, intelligent, polished man in Astoria had been hers. Of all the well-bred and elegant young women who had chased him, she had been the one he chose. But there had been a good deal of plain human passion as well, the laughter, the warmth, the ache to love and be loved, the pounding heart at his step, the happiness when he smiled, the sound of his voice even when he wasn’t there, the perfect memory of his smile. No, Tonia would not understand or forgive anything that Susannah had done. Thank God she did not know.
For that matter, Kate would not forgive it either. That was as certain as nightfall. Her rage would be absolute, in spite of her own betrayal. She would not see it as passion, and therefore wrong, but so very pardonable. She would see it as cold-hearted vengeance-which it was not! In the end it had been her only choice!
But thank God Kate did not know either. This was the first time the three of them had been alone together since Ralph’s death, and they were going to spend five days here, each guarding their secrets. They would smile and talk as if there were nothing to pretend about, no lies, no hidden rage or pain. It would be the ultimate test!
They were making their way back toward the house, the wind behind them now, cooler as the sun was lower on the horizon, spilling a bright path across the water and tipping the great curling heads of the waves with pale fire. The thunder of them breaking never ceased, yet it was an oddly peaceful sound, like the breathing of the earth. This time they did not walk close enough for a sneaker wave to catch them.
Susannah could not get the thought of that out of her mind as she watched Kate struggle against the close, wet fabric. It must be horribly cold against her legs, but she did not speak of it again.
The next morning was warm and fair. At this time of the year it could not be taken for granted that it would last, so when Tonia suggested that they drive south along the coast road, and walk around the next cape under the pine trees, both Kate and Susannah accepted the idea.
After breakfast they set out, Tonia driving as usual. It was half an hour’s journey. They made trivial conversation about mutual friends, the condition of the road, even political subjects such as the situation in Europe in the attempt to rebuild after the devastation of over four years of war that had taken the lives of more than ten million men, and maimed or crippled God knew how many more. It was a grim thing to think of, but it was safe. There was nothing personal in it, nothing to dig up their own still festering wounds.
They parked the car and walked in the sun up the steep footpath out above the sea. They heard the sharp, clear song of a red-winged blackbird, and a moment later saw it sitting on a branch, its brilliant patches of scarlet easily visible. The wild honeysuckle was in bloom, and the scent of pine needles gave the air a pungency that seemed to wash away every sour thought or memory, as the sight of the sea took it from the mind.
They watched in the distance for the sight of whales breaching, the white spout of water against the blue that would give away their position. Below them the white ranks of waves broke endlessly on the sand, dazzling the eye, the offshore wind carrying the spray back like smoke from their crests.
“This is perfect,” Kate said with a smile. “I can’t think of anything more beautiful.”
“It looks it,” Tonia agreed. “Especially from up here. But looks can deceive, can’t they, Kate. You should know that.”
Kate was startled. “What’s that supposed to mean? Just because I got caught by the wave yesterday evening! Whoever was walking closest to the water could have been caught. It just happened to be me.”
“Is that how you see life?” Tonia’s smile was cold. “Nothing is cause and effect, no responsibility? It just happens to be you?”
A flick of temper lit in Kate’s eyes. “Isn’t that rather a stretch? I got my feet wet by a sneaker wave, so my whole life’s philosophy is irresponsible? I could just as easily say that you ran up the shore without warning me, so your whole life is to run away from things and leave other people to suffer!”
“By other people, you mean you?” Tonia asked, a mild humor in her voice. “Are you sure you mean me? Susannah didn’t get wet either. She walked well away from the water all the time.”
“Oh, good for Susannah!” Kate said sarcastically. “How wise! How brave!”
Were they talking about the wave, or something else? Susannah was cold in the sun. Did Tonia know, and this was her way of telling Kate? She intended to make those needle-sharp remarks all week, until Kate’s hot, wild temper broke and there was a real fight between them, which somehow Tonia would win.
Somehow! Tonia had been Ralph’s wife! Kate had been his mistress. There could be no justification for that, no moral or social right. They would both say bitter things, and the freeing of the anger might be momentarily a relief, but there would be no forgetting, no going back to where they had been before. Tonia would call Kate a thief, even a whore, and a betrayer of everything that family meant.
Kate would point out that Ralph had married Tonia, but had grown tired of her, and in the end preferred Kate. It was Kate he had loved. Nothing could change, or heal that now. Tonia would have no charge to counter with. It was the truth.
Susannah was twisted with sorrow for them both. They had both loved him, in their ways, and believed he had loved them.
Of course they were wrong! The difference was that Tonia knew it, however she had learned! Kate still didn’t. She didn’t know that Ralph Bessemer had loved no one. He had been an arrogant, ambitious man who used people to satisfy his own appetites, physical, yes, but mostly for power, admiration, money and to be endlessly admired.
Susannah knew that! She knew beyond doubt it was the truth. Perhaps Tonia still believed somewhere in her heart that the trial had been unjust, there had been no theft, no long, careful corruption so Ralph could gain the political office he hungered for so intensely. Perhaps that was his only real hunger. Women were a pleasant route to its achievement, like a good meal to sustain you on a journey.
Had he ever loved Tonia? Or was she simply an advantageous marriage? Had he loved Kate, or was she just entertaining, and fun to take, so he could deceive the bossy, possessing Tonia, and laugh behind her back?
Susannah knew perfectly well why he had come after her! At least she knew now! At first she had imagined he had loved her. Standing here in the bright air above the roar of the waves, smelling the pine and the honeysuckle, she could remember how sweet had been the few, intoxicating weeks when his smile had lit her daydreams, his voice wakened her imagination, the touch of his hand sent her heart pounding, blood racing in her veins.
But he had been too sure of himself! He had asked for her help too soon. Two sisters won, he had taken the third for granted. She was to be of use, no more. She was in the perfect position, trusted by bank officials, to pass him the information he wanted. But she had used it to trap him instead.
No one else knew that, of course. Tonia had no idea it was Susannah who had told the police where to look, and had in effect put the pieces together for them. She thought it was that clever detective, Innes. She had blamed him, and he had been happy enough to be credited with the downfall of a figure as prominent as Ralph Bessemer, and as corrupt! The State Senate had been saved from profound damage, and he had been promoted.
Naturally Kate had believed the same. Kate was passionate, funny, hot-tempered, softhearted at times, often thoughtless. But above all she was uncomplicated. She would not look behind the obvious.
They were walking slowly back into the shade of the pines. There were wild brambles at the side of the track.
“There’ll be fruit to pick in the fall,” Tonia observed. “You’ll like that, Kate! Just be careful you don’t get caught on the thorns. You can get nasty scratches, very d
eep. And they can get infected, if you’re really unlucky.”
“I’ll be careful,” Kate replied a little tersely.
“Oh-so you’ve learned, have you?” Tonia turned for a moment to glance behind her, her face cold, delicate arched eyebrows high.
“I’ve always been careful picking berries,” Kate retorted.
“So you have,” Tonia agreed. “Or any other fruit. You’ve managed to get in and out without a scratch at all, and take the prize with you.” She turned back to look where she was going again.
Kate hesitated in her stride. By now she had to be as sure as Susannah was that Tonia knew. She was playing a game, saying, and not saying, pricking the skin with wounds until Kate lost her temper and provoked an open quarrel!
What then? Shouting, accusation, misery, guilt? Was that what Tonia wanted, that Kate should feel that bitter, corroding shame of the betrayer exposed? It would do no good. Nothing Ralph had said or done would be changed, and above all he would not be brought back to love or cheat either of them!
But she could not tell Tonia that without giving away that she knew!
They reached the car in silence and got in. The drive back in the dappled sunlight should have been wonderful, but the outward beauty of the day was already clouded over for all of them. All the way back, and through lunch in the house, Tonia made double-edged remarks, and Kate got angrier and angrier. Twice she hit back, but the sharpness of it was tempered by the knowledge of her own guilt. Susannah could see it in her face, the flare of temper, the perfect answer in her eyes, then the tight control because she remembered all the reasons why Tonia was riddled with hurt, why at least in one respect she had every right to retaliate.
But shame would not bridle her tongue forever. Susannah knew that without a second’s hesitation. Surely Tonia did as well?
After lunch there were chores to do, dishes, preparation for the evening meal, wood to collect and a little to cut. In the middle of the afternoon Kate announced that she would go for a walk around the inland water, preferably alone, and look for the blue herons.
Susannah turned to Tonia. “I’d like to go along the beach again. Will you come with me?” Perhaps she could persuade her out of the quarrel.
“Of course,” Tonia agreed. “That’s an excellent idea.”
Susannah was pleased, and surprised. Maybe it was not going to be so difficult after all.
It was a little cooler than yesterday, but still pleasant, and the tide was even farther out, leaving them plenty of room to walk along the sand below the stones.
Tonia was smiling. Her shoulders were tense and she walked with purpose rather than ease, but still it was a great improvement on the morning. Perhaps she had gone as far as she meant to?
Susannah was undecided whether to say anything or not. Now might be her only chance. Three more days of this bitter innuendo would be unbearable. How could she do it without betraying herself?
“Tonia?”
“Yes?” They had stopped walking and were staring at the tumbling water.
“Do you have to go on making such a point of Kate getting caught in the wave? Does it really matter?”
Tonia bit her lip thoughtfully, then she looked sideways back at Susannah. “Do you mean that I should forget all the past, and think only of the moment now, and the future?” she asked. Her eyes were narrowed a little, intent on the answer, her expression completely unreadable.
“I didn’t mean anything so sweeping,” Susannah replied, and then knew instantly that it was a lie, and not a good one. Tonia did not believe it. That was exactly what she had meant. She stumbled to retrieve it. “Just not the wave, the… the brambles. It sounds as if…”
She did not know how to finish.
Tonia was smiling, not with warmth but with amusement, an inner anticipation as if she foresaw exactly where they were going, and intended it. “Yes?”
“As if you’re deliberately trying to provoke her,” Susannah finished lamely.
“Oh? Why on earth do you imagine I would want to do that?” Tonia asked. She looked absolutely innocent, but in that instant Susannah knew with an ice-cold certainty that Tonia was perfectly aware of the love affair between Ralph and Kate, and that she intended to exact her revenge for it, slowly, drop by drop if necessary. It was in her eyes, like a hard, bright edge, and in her smile.
Susannah drew in her breath. Dare she say it, openly? There was something in Tonia that made her hesitate, a power, and memory of the days when she had been the eldest sister, to be admired, obeyed, whose praise mattered most.
“Because you’re grieving for Ralph, and you want to hurt her,” she said aloud. It was a compromise, half of the truth.
“My grieving for Ralph makes me want to hurt Kate?” Tonia asked. “Or are you suggesting his death has unhinged my mind?”
“No! Of course not!” Susannah protested.
“It might have,” Tonia replied, her eyes narrowed against the sharp, afternoon sun reflected off the white water. “After all, to have your husband sent to prison for five years, subjected to the vile life inside such a place, forced to mix with the worst people in our state, and then finally driven into a corner by them, and murdered like an animal-don’t you think that could be enough to drive some women out of their senses?”
She knew! It was a sick certainty twisting like a knife in the pit of Susannah’s stomach. Tonia knew that it was she who had told the police about Ralph. Did she also know that Ralph had tried to make love to her, not because he cared for her, or even was attracted to her, but in order to use her in his corruption? No, probably not. She opened her mouth to defend herself, and realized there was no defense. Tonia did not care why; the fact was all that mattered. She did not want reason; she wanted pain in payment for her own.
Susannah gulped, her mouth dry, her legs suddenly weak. She was afraid, and furious with herself for it. Had it been anyone except Tonia she might have been able to face them. She was not wrong! What else could she have done? Sleep with Ralph, betray the bank so he could use the money to win a Senate seat? Was that what Tonia would have wanted?
Yes, probably. Ralph didn’t love her! He was arrogant enough to think a smile from him, a little passion that would pass for love, and she would do whatever he wanted. He would throw her away afterward, and she would be too mortified, too ashamed to tell anyone.
“Yes,” she said aloud, looking back at Tonia. “I suppose it might be enough to drive some people mad-but you’re not ‘some people.’ You won’t lose sight of reality. It was a tragedy Ralph was murdered. It wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t Kate’s fault either. They got the man who did it, and he’s been executed.”
“Oh, yes,” Tonia agreed. “He’s dead.” There was a look of momentary, intense satisfaction in her face, almost joy. “Did I suggest it was Kate’s fault? I didn’t mean to. No, Kate would never have hurt Ralph, I know that. And she wouldn’t have wanted him in prison either.” Her voice was laden with meaning, her face hard, the wind whipping her dark hair across it.
They were twenty yards from where the breaking water reached, and as they stood there another sneaker wave came racing up the sand and stopped only a couple of feet short of Tonia’s shoes. She ignored it, as if she knew she were impervious to such things. There was something frightening in her calm, the sense of complete control in her eyes, her face, even the way her body braced against the wind.
Susannah was as certain as she was of nightfall that Tonia intended to take her revenge, her own concept of justice, for Kate’s betrayal of her, and for Susannah’s. She could do it here, away from Astoria, where no one else would see her, and she would do it slowly, carefully and completely. What she did not know was how.
Tonia was smiling at her, a cruel, half-excited smile that finally hid nothing. All her hurt and fury were in it, her knowledge of Kate and Ralph, and the way they had laughed and loved behind her back, and that Ralph had made the fatal mistake of trying the same trick, but without the heart, on Susannah as
well-not for lust but for profit. But she could not be wooed or flattered into corruption. She had turned him in, which had ultimately cost him his life, and so finally stolen him from both Tonia and Kate.
How would Tonia do it? Poison in the food, or the water? A pillow over her face when she slept, and blame Kate for it? An accident of some sort, a slip in the bath, perhaps, and drown in the hot, soapy water? A fall somewhere, even over the cliff. One would not have to go more than ten or twelve feet onto the rocks; that would be enough.
Or the sea? Something to do with those magnificent, pounding waves with their terrifying, exhilarating beauty, and the power of a thousand miles of ocean behind them, sucking back under, dragging in with the undertow, those hungry, unpredictable sneaker waves that reached out farther than the rest, and pulled the unwary, even off dry land.
“You look as if you have been caught with your hand in the cookie jar, Susannah!” Tonia said with only the slightest sneer in her voice. “Are you afraid of being sent to bed without any supper?”
Susannah spread her hands wide. “I haven’t taken any cookies!”
“Oh you did, my dear! You just couldn’t hold on to them!” Tonia answered. “No cookies for anyone now. But let’s go back and have supper. I promise you can have a share of everything!” She started to walk back along the sand, striding out easily, her arms loose at her sides and her steps graceful.
Susannah stumbled behind, her feet sinking in the sand, fear making her awkward, anger at the injustice of it tripping her, and helplessness robbing her of breath, of strength, even the ability to see clearly and choose her path up through the stones.
Dinner was a nightmare for Susannah. Tonia was charming. She smiled at both her sisters, told entertaining stories from events in Astoria society to which she had been, and they had not. The food, which she had insisted on cooking alone, was delicious, fresh fish in a delicate sauce, and vegetables chopped and steamed to exactly the right consistency. She also served it herself, and passed the plates.
Dangerous Women Page 27