The Sea Star (27 page)

     
“No wonder you’re always running back and forth among all your hotels,” she said to him. “So many things can go wrong in a place this size.”

     
“And usually do,” Jay said dryly.

     
Evenings were the best time. Each night, Susanna would wear a different dream of a dress, white silk with coral bands, light blue satin with royal blue velvet trim, powder pink crepe-de-Chine, or Jay’s favorite, a lime green creation with white lace and jade green ribbons that brought out all the emerald sparkle in his beautiful wife’s eyes.

     
They would dine in the main dining room, a magnificent room in the Byzantine mode. Amid the opulent setting of gold-touched mosaics, ivory diptychs, and bronze-cast pendant lamps, Susanna’s lovely simplicity shone like a fine white rose against a multi-hued tapestry.

     
Dinner was always a delight. They might have pigeons with green peas, or mullets with d’Antin sauce, or sirloin beef à la Dauphiness. Each delectable course would be complemented by a choice wine from the Excelsior’s incomparable wine cellar. Later, in bed, Jay would make slow delicious love to her, the perfect end to an endless succession of perfect days.

     
Their first Christmas as husband and wife was an especially happy time. In the sitting room of their suite, a tall fir tree was decorated with cheery ornaments, golden daisy chains, colored electric lights, and topped by a shining sea star.

     
They spent Christmas Eve alone.
Dallas
had another engagement. After dinner in their suite, Susanna fetched a package from under the tree and handed it to Jay with a dramatic flourish.

     
“What could this be?” he asked, opening the box to reveal a slim cigarette case with a delicate tracery of reticulated gold. “I see you’ve been to Tiffany’s again.”

     
“How do you know?”

     
“I recognize the craftsmanship.”

     
“Open the case,” she said. “There’s an inscription.”

     
He did so and read: “From S. G. to J. G. - Christmas 1900. If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange and be all to me?”

     
He gave her an affectionate smile. “Mrs. Browning isn’t the most subtle poetess,” he said, “but this sentiment is rather appropriate. The answer is yes, Susanna.”

     
She reached up to kiss his mouth. “I hoped it would be. Do you like the cigarette case?”

     
“It’s very handsome. Did you get it in
New York
?”

     
“Yes.”

     
She said nothing more. They hadn’t discussed her trip to
New York
, nor why he’d dismissed Ford, nor any other unpleasant subject since the day Susanna returned to
Atlantic City
. Although she’d made a great point of their trusting each other, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Jay that she’d suspected him of murder. Some truths are too shameful to admit.

     
Perhaps Jay, too, felt that the past was better left buried, for he put down the cigarette case, took another package from under the tree and handed it to Susanna. “I hope you like this.”

     
She opened the box and saw a magnificent diamond comb, from which nine flexible streamers of solid diamonds fell like a shimmering waterfall. “Jay, good heavens! It looks like something fit for a queen.”

     
“It is,” he said. “For an empress, actually. It belonged to Eugénie, wife of Napoléon the Third. Two of the diamonds are certified Mazarins. Let me see how it looks on you.”

     
She went to the mirror and set the comb at the back of her upswept hair. The diamonds brushed heavily against the nape of her neck. The feeling was both luxurious and oppressive.

     
“Jay, I couldn’t possibly wear such a treasure. This piece belongs in a museum.”

     
“No doubt it does.” He came up behind her and kissed one bare shoulder. “But it suits you. I’d like you to wear it.”

     
“Where did you get it?”

     
“I know someone who deals in hard-to-find pieces. He let me have it at a bargain price. I had to mortgage only four of my hotels to pay for it.”

     
“That’s probably not far from the truth.” With troubled eyes, Susanna gazed at her glorious reflection. “Jay, it’s not stolen, is it?”

     
“Susanna, what a question! Do you think I’d give my wife stolen goods?”

     
“I’m sorry.” She turned to face him contritely. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just that....”

     
“It’s just what?” He lifted her chin with a finger and kissed the tender curve of her mouth.

     
“It’s nothing,” she said, twining her arms around his neck. She couldn’t define what was bothering her about his extravagant purchase. It was almost as if he were buying her love. But that was absurd. Didn’t he know how completely she loved him? If he didn’t know by now, he never would.

     
On New Year’s Day, Susanna and Jay dined with
Dallas
at the Sea Star. To Susanna’s delight, the two men she loved most in the world couldn’t have been more cordial to each other. If their warmth was forced, their cordiality studied, Susanna didn’t see it. She was too blissfully content to notice undercurrents.

     
After dinner, they retired to the south tower apartment, where Susanna prepared the spicy claret punch with which the Sterlings always toasted birthdays.

     
Jay’s gift to her was a garnet necklace set in gold.
Dallas
presented her with a pure white kitten whose lineage, he said drolly, could be traced back to the time of the pharaohs.

     
“Her name is Snow,” he said as Susanna cradled the purring ball of fur in her arms. “It’s said of that breed that it brings happiness and prosperity to all who own one.”

     
“Really?” Susanna laughed, startling the kitten, who immediately resumed its purring when she kissed its soft pink nose. “And how did you chance upon this priceless possession?”

     
“I, like Jay, have my sources,”
Dallas
drawled. “That diamond comb you told me about may have been difficult to come by, Sunny, but my finding Snow was nothing short of a miracle.”

     
“Why aren’t you wearing the comb?” Jay asked Susanna. “It would have set off your gown perfectly.”

     
She looked down at her white satin enriched with elegant beadwork. “It would have,” she agreed, “but I’m nervous about wearing it. It’s so precious a piece. What if it falls out of my hair and I lose it?”

     
“Nonsense. Have you ever lost a hair ornament?”

     
“No,” she had to admit. “But neither have I ever owned one so exquisite.”

     
“Why don’t you encase it in glass?” Dallas suggested to Jay. “You can display it in the Excelsior’s lobby and set a bronze plaque under it, saying that it’s a gift from you to your wife. Just think how impressed people will be.”

     
“I didn’t buy the comb to impress people,” Jay said tightly. “I bought it to please your sister.”

     
“Jay, it does please me!” Susanna said at once, regretting the foolish fear that had kept her from wearing it. “I wish I had worn it tonight. I’ll do so tomorrow night, I promise.”

     
Jay nodded and said nothing. Susanna nuzzled her cheek against the kitten’s silky head to hide her embarrassment. Jay looked over at Dallas, who returned his gaze smugly. When Susanna raised her eyes and looked at them, she had the oddest impression that a battle had just been fought, and that Dallas, the lesser armed, had emerged victorious.

     
Toward the end of January, Susanna, in her seventh month of pregnancy, began to feel an overpowering need to own a home of her own—not a tower apartment, not a luxurious hotel suite, but a house with a yard and garden enclosed by a picket fence.

     
“I’m not surprised,” Dallas said when she told him of her desire. “You’re nurturing life, so your body tells you to prepare a home for it. I don’t know why you want a house, though. You and I were both hotel babies, and neither of us has suffered because of it.”

     
“I want one,” she said stubbornly. She had not yet mentioned it to Jay. “I’m tired of living in a hotel. I want to be normal, like other people.”

     
“Do you mean like your husband?”

     
Susanna eyed him askance over her teacup. They were in Dallas’s quarters at Peter’s Beach. The room was drafty and depressing. Floorboards creaked. The wind rattled the windows. A layer of dust covered every lamp and piece of furniture in the room. Dallas, who was so fastidious, seemed oblivious to the squalor. Susanna had to consciously restrain herself from boxing his ears and telling him to come home where he belonged.

     
“What’s wrong with the two of you?” she said irritably. “Why can’t you get along?”

     
“Why, Sunny,” he said in mock surprise, “we do get along. I have nothing but respect for my brother-in-law.”

     
“You should, you know,” she said sternly. “He lent you a great deal of money. I don’t suppose you’ve paid him back.”

     
Dallas put down his teacup. “As a matter of fact, Sunny, I need more money. Twelve thousand dollars, to be exact.”

     
“Twelve thousand dollars? Dallas!”

     
“Hush up!” he snapped. “Do you want Charley to hear you? I need the money. Don’t bother lecturing me. Just ask Jay for it. I know he’ll be happy to help me out.”

     
“Are you insane, Dallas? Jay doesn’t have that kind of money at his fingertips.”

     
“Sunny, don’t make me laugh. He got you that bauble for Christmas that easily cost a hundred thousand. The garnet necklace wasn’t a five-and-dime piece, either. I don’t know what fairy tales Jay tells you about his finances, but he’s got money to burn, take my word for it.”

     
“Even if he did,” she retorted, “why should he give it to you? Did you steal that money from Charley?” And when
Dallas
stared at her stonily, she appealed to him, “Dallas, Dallas, what are you doing with your life?”

     
“I’m living it!” he shot back. “Which is more than I can say for you. You lived Papa’s life before, and now, as Mrs. Jay ‘Hotel Magnate’ Grainger, you’re just living the life your husband has mapped out for you.”

     
“For the love of heaven, what’s wrong with that? I
want
to be a hotelier. It’s my choice,
Dallas
.”

     
“Is it? How much hotel work have you done since Jay took over the Sea Star? And have you talked to him about buying a house?” Her silence gave him the answer. “I didn’t think so,” he said acidly. “Jay won’t agree to a house, I’ll stake my life on that. He doesn’t want ties or domestic responsibilities. He wants only to build more and more hotels. He wants to have more money than God; he wants to
be
God, Sunny, can’t you see that? He wants total control over his life and the life of his menials. He killed Teddy Addison, you know.”

     
Dallas’s last words were disconcerting in themselves. To hear her suspicions given voice gave Susanna a further jolt. “What are you saying?” she demanded.

     
“He as good as killed him,” Dallas qualified. “Jay sent him to Boston, where he died. It wouldn’t have happened if Teddy had gone to Baltimore, as he wanted to.”

     
“Don’t be absurd.” Susanna’s voice was steady, but her heart pounded erratically. “Whoever murdered Teddy would have done it in Boston, Baltimore, or anywhere else.”

     
Dallas’s face suddenly lost its color. “What do you mean ‘murdered’?”

     
Susanna explained what Ford had told her, while Dallas grew even paler. “So whoever murdered him in Boston,” she concluded, “would have done it in Baltimore, too.”