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TENDER BETRAYAL (Mystery Romance): The TENDER Series ~ Book 3

Page 3

by H. Y. Hanna


  Click.

  Slowly, Leah lowered the phone to her lap. She stared at it blindly. This must be the contact that Toran had been talking about: the source of information about his parents’ accident. The possible witness.

  Leah exhaled shallowly. Here was a chance for Toran to find out everything about the accident—to find out the truth. She felt her stomach muscles clench involuntarily.

  Then she raised the phone and looked at the message again. Slowly, deliberately, she brought up the menu and pressed “DELETE”. Then she went into the Settings and cleared the call log. Leah returned to the main screen, locked the phone again, and laid it carefully back on the coffee table, exactly where it had been before. She kept her mind blank, refusing to think about what she was doing.

  She was sitting curled up, seemingly engrossed in an American sitcom, when Toran came back a few minutes later.

  “Is Mrs Chang all right?” Leah looked up at him with a bright smile.

  Toran paused and eyed her for a moment, then replied slowly, “Yeah, she’s fine. She plugged the wrong cable in by mistake. I’ve sorted it for her now.”

  He settled back down next to her, his hand going out to caress her bare arm. The touch of his fingers sent a tingle of pleasure through Leah’s body. She shifted so that she could lean into him. She saw surprise flash through Toran’s green eyes, before he slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against him. They sat for a moment in silence while canned laughter drifted from the TV screen.

  Then Toran cleared his throat and said, “So about… what we were talking about before Mrs Chang called—”

  “Yes, I’m sorry,” Leah interrupted him quickly. “I… I know I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the living together… I think I’m just taking a bit of time to get used to it. You know, personal space and all that. I’d been so used to living alone for so long—”

  “I thought you had a flatmate in London,” said Toran dryly.

  “Oh, er… yeah… right…” Leah stammered. “But I meant, like… well, you know… since I was sent off to boarding school in the U.K., I’ve just got used to being on my own and not having any family or close friends nearby…”

  She knew that it was lame and she could see the quizzical light in Toran’s eyes. Any minute now, his sharp journalist brain would kick into gear and start digging for answers. But to her relief, after another moment of looking at her searchingly, Toran let the subject drop.

  “I suppose it’s an adjustment,” he said, with a small smile. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from her temple tenderly. “But if you’ve got anything that you want to talk about, Leah, you know I’m here to listen.”

  Leah swallowed and nodded. “I know, Toran.”

  “Good.” Toran gave her a wry smile. “I’ve got several interviews lined up for tomorrow and I need to do some on-site research for my latest feature, so I probably won’t be back till late. That should give you some ‘personal space’.”

  “Actually, I’ve got something on tomorrow evening too… Uh… It’s something Julia’s organising,” said Leah brightly. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back either.”

  “Oh? Well, I hope you enjoy yourself.”

  Toran turned his attention back to the TV screen and, after a moment, Leah did the same, allowing her body to relax slowly against him. Her mind, though, was still churning. It was frightening how easy it was to lie—and once she started, it was as if something compelled her on, putting more false words into her mouth.

  I will tell Toran everything, Leah vowed. This was just a temporary delay. She had already kept so much from him—a bit more now wouldn’t make much difference. And besides, it made sense that she should find out the full picture before she spoke to him. Wasn’t it better that she had all the details first before she told him everything?

  In fact, she was actually helping Toran, she assured herself. Rather than him going to meet this contact and only getting half the story, she would go instead and—armed with her own knowledge—she would be able to assess the information given much better.

  Then I’ll come back and tell Toran everything, Leah promised herself. She just had to find the right moment…

  CHAPTER 5

  Lau Pa Sat was one of Singapore’s most famous tourist attractions and a historical landmark. A slightly incongruous sight in the middle of the downtown financial district, it was an impressive octagonal building, built in the Victorian architectural style, and replete with “old world” charm. Inside the elegant columns and soaring archways, though, was a bustling hawker centre and food court. Singapore was a nation built on a melting pot of cultures—Indian, Malay, Chinese, Peranakan, Arabic, European—and it boasted the best fusion cuisine in Asia, not to mention food choices from neighbouring countries like Thailand, Vietnam, the Philippines, Korea, and Japan. Food was the common obsession for all the different ethnicities living on the island and, like most Asian countries, the standard greeting was not “Hello” but “Have you eaten?”

  And there’s no better place to see this in action than at Lau Pa Sat, Leah thought as she stepped into the iconic hawker centre. The air was thick with the fragrant smell of garlic, lemongrass, ginger, and roasted peanuts. Steam billowed from several stalls lining the sides of the inner hall and the clattering of chopsticks punctuated the raucous din of talk and laughter. Whether it was succulent satay chicken, spicy South Indian curry, Shanghai steamed dumplings, or a plate of Hainanese chicken rice—all washed down with ice-cold beer—this was a great place to come to sample local cuisine.

  Leah made her way past stalls selling bakkwa—grilled salty-sweet Chinese meat jerky—and others serving up char keay teow, the national Singaporean favourite of stir-fried rice noodles with soy sauce, chilli, egg, prawns, fishcake, bean sprouts, and Chinese chives, as well as a few stalls with more unusual offerings such as pig’s organ soup and baked jellyfish. She had gone halfway around the huge hall before she found Stall 72. It was tucked away in a quiet corner, nothing more than a counter in front of a small shop front and a simple sign advertising fresh sugar cane juice.

  Leah glanced at her watch, unsure what to do. It was six o’clock now. The message hadn’t given any other instructions. After a moment, she stepped up to the stall and ordered a cup of sugar cane juice. She watched idly as the woman took long sections of sugar cane—almost as thick as your arm—and sliced them lengthways with a cleaver. Then the woman fed them into a machine which pressed the sugar cane between two metal rollers, squeezing the juice out from the fibrous stalks.

  A minute later, Leah was presented with a plastic cup filled to the brim with a pale green liquid, accompanied by ice and a slice of lime. As she was handing the money over, the woman raised her eyes to Leah’s and said in a low voice, “Anything else for you, miss?”

  Leah looked at her quizzically and was about to answer no—the stall didn’t sell anything else so it seemed like a silly question—when she caught herself. Slowly, she reached out to take the juice and said, “Yes. I’m also interested in some information. About an accident that happened five years ago.”

  The woman nodded. She jerked her head towards the back of the shop.

  “In there."

  Leah hesitated, straining to look past the woman’s shoulder into the interior of the shop. All she could see was a darkened doorway, with no sign of what it led into. She glanced uncomfortably around her, realising now that it had been stupid of her to come without telling anyone where she was going. What if something happened to her? But if she backed out now, she would have come all the way—and taken all the risks—for nothing.

  She glanced back at the woman and held up her forefinger. “One second…”

  Digging into her handbag, Leah pulled out her mobile phone and quickly texted a message to Julia: “DON'T WORRY. NOTHING SERIOUS. BUT IF I DON’T CONTACT YOU IN AN HOUR, CALL THE POLICE & TELL TORAN I WENT TO STALL 72 AT LAU PA SAT. WILL EXPLAIN LATER.”

  S
he sent the message off and muted the phone before sliding it back into her handbag. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to the woman and said, “Okay, I'm ready.”

  The woman opened the swing gate at the side of the stall and stood back as Leah stepped into the small space behind the counter. Leah glanced at the woman again, but all she got was a blank-faced nod again towards the rear of the shop. Trying to ignore the pounding of her heart, Leah walked towards the darkened doorway and stepped through.

  She found herself in a small windowless room. It looked like some kind of storeroom, with another juicing machine in one corner, boxes of plastic cups and straws, and several tall bundles of sugar cane leaning against the walls. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw a man sitting in the far corner. No, actually, he was squatting, and in his hands he was holding long stalks of sugar cane which he was hacking into shorter pieces.

  Leah paused—she wasn't sure if she wanted to get any closer to that wicked-looking cleaver in his hands—but as the man looked up at her expectantly, she forced herself to approach him.

  “Um… You… You have some information for me? About the accident?” said Leah.

  The man said nothing but continued looking at her. Leah shifted uncomfortably. He gave her the creeps. His eyes roved lecherously over her body and Leah regretted wearing the shorts and strappy cotton top she had chosen. They had seemed ideal for coping with Singapore’s humid heat, but now they left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She cleared her throat and repeated her question.

  The man gave her an insolent look. “What you have for me?”

  Leah opened her handbag and pulled out her wallet. Carefully, she extracted several notes and waved them in front of him. She saw the glint of appreciation in his eyes. He gave a barely perceptible nod and started speaking. He had a heavy Singaporean accent and Leah had to concentrate to understand him.

  “I like fishing, you know? But best fishing spots not on official list. No problem. Fishing brothers—we know good one, we share.” He grinned, showing stained teeth. “So one night go fishing in illegal area beside Yishun Dam. Very bad rain that day—but is okay, lah. Rain good for fishing. Then just when time pack up to go home, I hear loud sound—big crash—coming from other side of causeway.”

  Leah leaned forwards, her breath coming faster. He shifted the sugar cane in his hands, bringing the cleaver down and cutting it cleanly into two pieces. Then he tossed them into a box next to him and picked up another long stalk from the bundle on his right. Leah knew that he was deliberately drawing out the story, keeping her hanging. He was in a position of power and he was enjoying it. She fidgeted with irritation, but forced herself to say nothing, to just wait.

  After a moment, he started talking again. “Then I see man walking in the rain. He say need ride to city. I think, okay lah, I take him. Then next day I hear police report—accident near Yishun Dam. I think, wah lau, must be the driver.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the police?” asked Leah.

  The man shrugged. “No need trouble. Already fine for illegal fishing two times. Third time you go to court. Better keep quiet, huh.”

  “But didn’t you hear about the passengers?” asked Leah. “There were two other people in the accident!”

  “Dead already, also cannot change,” said the man, with another shrug. "Police report say bad luck, driving in bad weather. Better keep quiet. Not get involved.”

  “Where did you drop the man off?” asked Leah.

  “Orchard Road. Top part.”

  “Did you get his name?”

  The man shook his head. “No tell me.”

  Leah shifted her weight in frustration. “Well, is there anything else—something that might help to find him?”

  The man’s eyes flickered to the cash in Leah’s hand. Then he ran his eyes over her body again and gave her a suggestive smile. “Also have another thing… but maybe need more than money for payment, eh?”

  Leah stiffened. “I don’t have any other kind of payment to offer,” she said, shoving the money at him. He took it, his clammy fingers brushing deliberately against hers, and she had to suppress a shudder. She backed away from him and out of the doorway as fast as she could. The woman was still standing at the stall outside, resting her elbows on the counter in a bored fashion. She gave Leah a sour look, then turned away.

  Leah let herself out of the stall and hurried across the hall towards one of the exits. She was desperate to get outside now. The interview in that airless, little room had left her feeling filthy and tainted. She stumbled out into a side street where rows upon rows of men were setting up pushcarts with skewers of meat roasting over hot coals. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air. She had come out on “Satay Street”, she realised. She stopped beside a stall, where a man was busily fanning a giant palm leaf over his satay skewers, and took deep gulps of the night air.

  “Satay, miss?”

  Leah looked at the man and managed to give him a weak smile. “No, thank you.”

  Pulling herself together, she made her way down the crowded side street and out towards the front of the hawker centre to look for a taxi. As she walked, she suddenly remembered Julia and hurriedly dug in her handbag for her mobile phone. There were six missed calls and a string of text messages, each one sounding more frantic than the last. Leah felt a stab of guilt as she imagined how worried her friend must have been. She paused beside a palm tree and dialled Julia’s number.

  “Oh my God, Leah! What the hell is going on? What was that message about? You had me freaking out here!”

  “I’m sorry,” said Leah. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It was just a precaution—”

  “Precaution? What do you need a precaution for?” said Julia, her voice shrill. “What have you got yourself into, Leah? Where are you?”

  Leah picked the easiest one to answer. “I’m at Lau Pa Sat. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

  “So what was that text message about?” said Julia. “If it was some kind of joke, I didn’t think it was very funny—”

  “No, no. It wasn’t a joke,” Leah assured her. “Um… Julia… you know I was telling you about Toran’s parents’ accident…”

  “Yeah?” Julia sounded cautious.

  Leah paused, wondering how to say it. “Well, I got a lead to someone who could have more information about the accident. I came to meet them just now.”

  “Is Toran with you?” asked Julia sharply.

  Leah winced. Trust Julia to get to the heart of the matter. “No, he doesn’t know about it.”

  “Leah…” said Julia, her tone disapproving.

  “I thought I’d get some more information before I told him everything,” said Leah, interrupting her.

  Julia gasped. “You haven’t told him yet? I thought you said you were going to tell him last night?”

  “I… I sort of didn’t get the chance,” said Leah.

  “Leah—”

  “There just wasn’t the right moment, okay?” said Leah. “I will tell him. I was going to tell him as soon as I got this extra information.”

  “And how did you find out about this source?” asked Julia suspiciously.

  Leah shifted uncomfortably. “Well… I… um… I sort of intercepted a phone call that was meant for Toran.”

  “You what?”

  “It just happened,” said Leah lamely.

  “Leah, what the hell are you doing?” demanded Julia.

  “Look, Julia…” Leah took a deep breath. “I need you to just be my friend now and not judge me. Please,” she said desperately.

  There was silence at the other end of the line. Then she heard Julia heave a sigh.

  “All right, all right… I don’t know what’s going on, but I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “I… I do,” Leah said. “And there’s something else, Julia… I told Toran that I was coming out to meet you this evening, for something you organised. So if he asks, can you make sure that you say that?”

  “But I thou
ght you’re going to tell him everything anyway,” said Julia. “So he would have known that you weren’t really meeting me. You’re not planning to hide this from him as well, are you?”

  “No, no,” said Leah. “I promise, I’ll tell him everything. But I need to find the right moment so until then…”

  Julia sighed again. “Okay. For what it’s worth, if Toran asks me, I’ll say that you were with me. But I don’t like it, Leah—”

  “Thank you,” said Leah quickly. “Listen, I’ve got to go home now. But I’ll… I’ll call you soon.”

  Leah hung up, feeling a mixture of guilt and relief. Then she headed for the nearest taxi stand. She was lucky to find an empty cab quickly. As she settled into the air-conditioned interior, she noticed the sign for “SONG TAXICAB ENTERPRISES” on the dashboard again. Ah Song, she thought suddenly, remembering her need to speak to him. She would go and see him tomorrow first, she decided. Then she would tell Toran everything. It wasn’t an excuse to delay things, she assured herself. It was only one more day. One more day wouldn’t matter…

  CHAPTER 6

  Leah looked around, impressed, as she stepped into the SONG TAXICAB ENTERPRISES offices the next morning. Although not the downtown central business district, it was in an up-and-coming area of town. The offices were decorated in a modern style, with high ceilings and the latest technology evident at the various workstations and cubicles. Large windows on one side of the main workplace looked out onto the Singapore skyline and the whole place had the feel of a thriving business. Ah Song had obviously done very well for himself.

  Leah smiled as she saw her old driver coming rapidly to meet her from the other end of the offices. He was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and smart grey pants, just as he used to dress when he worked for her father, and Leah flashed back to that moment each morning when Ah Song would arrive to drive her to school. As he came closer, though, she noticed little changes—more wrinkles around his eyes, more grey in the hair that receded from his forehead. He had put on weight too and seemed to stoop more. But the smile that creased his kindly face was the same one she remembered.

 

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