TENDER BETRAYAL (Mystery Romance): The TENDER Series ~ Book 3 Page 4

  “Missy Leah!” He held his hands out to her as he rushed up. “So happy to see you!”

  “It’s great to see you too, Ah Song,” said Leah, as she put her hands into his. She had to resist the impulse to give him a hug. She knew that traditional Asian culture frowned on physical demonstrations of affection in public—even close friends didn’t usually hug—but it was something she was going to have to get used to again, after living so many years in the U.K. where hugging and kissing on greeting was the norm.

  “You come back to visit Singapore again?” Ah Song asked.

  “No, I’ve come back to stay,” said Leah with a smile.

  “Stay?” Ah Song looked confused. “But last time I see you in London, you say you have new life there now. Not coming back.”

  Leah gave a sheepish smile. “Well, things changed, I guess. I decided that my life was really back here… with the people I love.”

  “Ah,” Ah Song said, his eyes twinkling. “You mean Mr Toran?”

  Leah laughed. “I could never keep anything from you, Ah Song,” she said. “Yes, Toran and I are together now.”

  “I am happy you are happy,” said Ah Song, squeezing her hands. “That is most important, Missy Leah.”

  “But perhaps my father would not be so happy about it, if he were still alive…?” said Leah, watching his reaction. “You know he never liked Toran and last time, when you came to see me in London, you mentioned something…”

  Ah Song glanced at the cubicles around them, then turned and gestured towards the back of the room. “We go in there better. More privacy.”

  He led the way to an inner office. As Leah settled into the chair opposite his desk, he reached into a drawer and pulled out a bag filled with pale yellow strips of dried fruit.

  “You like? I remember before, this always your favourite.” He held the bag out to her with a smile.

  “Oh! Dried mangoes! Yes, I used to love these,” said Leah. She was touched that he had remembered. She reached out and helped herself to a few strips from the bag. They had been sun-dried and the rich, sweet aroma of mangoes filled her nose as she popped a piece in her mouth. She felt a wave of nostalgia as she chewed the dried fruit. How many times had she sat in the car, munching on this snack, as Ah Song drove her home after school? She looked up at the old driver. “I can’t believe you remembered that after all these years.”

  “Of course I remember,” said Ah Song with a smile. “Many things I can remember about you, Missy Leah.” He hesitated. “Maybe wrong to say because I am only driver, but for me, you are like daughter. Daughter I did not have.”

  Leah felt tears spring to her eyes. She blinked rapidly. “Oh, Ah Song—that’s… that’s such a lovely thing to say. Thank you. It means more to me than you can possibly know.”

  Ah Song looked at her sadly. “I know father dead now, Missy Leah. Maybe you think you have no more family.” He reached across his desk and clasped her hands in his. “But also can remember—you always have family in Singapore, you always have uncle here.”

  Leah squeezed his hands, her heart too full to speak. After a moment, Ah Song let go of her hands and sat back. As if to lighten the mood, he gestured to the packet of dried mangoes again and said, “My son also like.”

  Leah remembered that Ah Song had married late in life and was inordinately proud of his only child. “I remember you telling me that he’s done really well,” she said with a smile.

  Ah Song beamed. “Yes, he is good talent, my son. Music genius! When seven years old, already winning prize for best violin, huh? But expensive, you know, music lesson. We are saving-saving money, then can give him best chance.” His smile widened. “But he get accepted at New York Conservatory of Music! Four year there already.”

  “Wow, I’ve heard how competitive it is to get in there. That’s amazing, Ah Song,” said Leah. “You must be so proud of him.”

  Ah Song nodded eagerly. “First in my family, huh! My father was just poor farmer and me also, just driver—no university, no degree—but my son, he will become something great.”

  As Leah saw the pride shining in Ah Song’s eyes, she felt a pang of envy for his son. They might have been poor, but he had far more interest and affection from his father than she ever had, for all her luxurious lifestyle and wealthy upbringing.

  Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Ah Song said gently, “Missy Leah, your father very proud of you also.”

  Leah made a face. “I don’t think so, Ah Song. My father was never that interested in me.”

  Ah Song shook his head violently. “No, no, Missy Leah! You are wrong! Father love you a lot. Even if cannot say. Sometimes difficult, you know? Cannot always say what is inside heart.”

  “Ah Song, my father is dead,” said Leah wryly. “You don’t have to keep defending him.”

  Ah Song shook his head again. “Is true, Missy Leah. I know your father long time. Many things he cannot say to you.”

  “Yes, that’s partly why I came to see you,” said Leah quickly. She leaned forwards. “Was my father involved in the deaths of Toran’s parents?”

  Ah Song’s eyes flew to hers in alarm. “What you mean?”

  “The car accident that killed Toran’s parents,” said Leah flatly.

  “This one I don’t know,” said Ah Song, not quite meeting her eyes.

  “That’s not true, Ah Song,” said Leah. “My father mentions you in his letter.”

  Ah Song sat up straight. “Letter? Which one letter?”

  “He left some letters for me,” said Leah. “They were in a hidden safe in his study. I found them the first time I came back to Singapore, when I was going through his things. They were letters that he had written during the years I was away, but he never sent them to me. And in one of them, he talks about the accident that killed Toran’s parents. And he mentions you.”

  Ah Song sprang up from his chair, agitated. “Have letter with you? I can see? Maybe reading wrong!”

  “No, I don’t have it with me,” said Leah. “But I promise you, I’m not misinterpreting things. I’ve read it many times—there’s no mistake.” She looked at him pleadingly. “He said that you brought him the news about the accident—so you must know something! Please, tell me what you know.”

  He sighed. “No more other thing, Missy Leah. I hear news about Mr Toran mother and father, and I tell your father. He is very sad also…”

  Very sad? Or very guilty? wondered Leah, but she didn’t say it out loud. Instead, she asked, “Who else was involved? He must have hired somebody to tamper with the seat belts. And what about the man who drove the taxi?”

  “Your father also don’t tell me,” said Ah Song evasively. “I am only driver.”

  “But you must know something!” said Leah in frustration. “I mean, why did my father want to harm Toran’s parents in the first place? Why did he hate them and Toran so much? Why was he so against me being with Toran when we were at school together?”

  Ah Song looked uncomfortable. “You are young girl, Missy Leah,” he said. “Maybe father think you are too young for boyfriend—”

  “No,” said Leah. “My father was never the protective type. Most of the time, he never seemed that interested in what I was doing. It was only when he found out that I was seeing Toran that he started to interfere. And he never said I couldn’t have boyfriends. It was Toran specifically that I wasn’t allowed to see. So much so that when I tried to defy him, he sent me off to boarding school in the U.K. He did everything he could to keep us apart. Why?”

  Ah Song shook his head helplessly.

  “I used to think that it was just because Toran wasn’t ‘good enough’, that his family wasn’t rich enough…” said Leah slowly. “But now I think there was more to it than that.”

  Ah Song paced around the room, shaking his head. Finally, he stopped in front of Leah’s chair and caught her hands in his again. “Long time already, Missy Leah. Father dead now. You are happy now with Mr Toran. Why aski
ng question? Sometime people do bad thing, but not always bad people. Sometime desperate, huh? Sometime feeling like have no choice. Sometime making wrong choice.”

  Leah stared into Ah Song’s eyes. She couldn’t help being impressed by his defence of her father. Could he be right? Was there more to her father than the ruthless, cold manipulator she had always thought him to be? Doubt tugged at Leah’s heart. A tiny part of her did want to believe that her father couldn’t have done something like this, that in spite of his faults, he was fundamentally good…

  The old man sighed, then let go of her hands. “Missy Leah, I think we don’t talk about this anymore.”

  It was obvious that the subject was closed. Leah realised that she would have to let it go. At least for now.

  “Okay.” She gave him a rueful smile. “Just one more thing: my father also mentions Black Buddha in his letter. Is Black Buddha involved somehow as well?”

  For the first time, Ah Song looked scared. “You stay away from Black Buddha, Missy Leah,” he said urgently. “He is dangerous man. Very dangerous man.”

  “Yes, but—”

  The phone rang shrilly on Ah Song’s desk. Leah saw relief flash through his eyes as he gave her an apologetic smile and reached over to answer it.

  “Yes? Okay, okay, I see them now. Make some tea, huh?” He put the phone down and looked at Leah. “I’m sorry, Missy Leah, cannot talk anymore. Have to go see some customer. Too many complaining one not good for the company.”

  “Oh, sure, of course,” said Leah, standing up.

  “But you come for dinner? My wife very happy to see you,” said Ah Song as he escorted her to the door. “My son coming back from New York next week. Maybe come have dinner together? Then can meet also.”

  “Thanks, I’d love to come,” said Leah, thinking to herself that it might give her a second chance to pump him for information.

  As he opened the door of his inner office, Ah Song leaned close and said again, softly, “Remember, Missy Leah. Always have family in Singapore. You need help, you call me. Any time.”

  Leah gave him a tremulous smile. “Thank you, Ah Song. I will remember that.”

  CHAPTER 7

  On the way back from Ah Song’s office, Leah stopped off at a local Asian bakery famed for its egg custard tarts. Toran had a weakness for these traditional Chinese sweet treats and Leah knew that she was probably trying to assuage her own guilt by bringing him a gift, but she went ahead and bought him a large box anyway. When she entered the apartment, she noticed that the key was in the lock. Toran must be home.

  “I’m back!” she called as she shut the front door behind her. Dropping her handbag onto the hall table, she walked into the living room with a smile. “Got you a little something! I remembered that you love these and there’s a bakery that’s supposed to make the best egg tarts in all of Singapore so I thought—”

  Leah faltered to a stop as she saw Toran standing by the kitchen counter. His face was stony and his eyes were as hard as jade. In one hand, he held his mobile phone.

  “I had a strange phone call just now,” he said as she approached him. “It was a message from Black Buddha’s men, telling me that Beng Chew Hoon, a stall owner at Lau Pa Sat, had the additional information I wanted about my parents’ accident.” His voice hardened. “I told him he must have got it wrong because I haven’t had a meeting yet. In fact, I was still waiting to hear back from them on whether Black Buddha was accepting my offer. Imagine my surprise when he told me that my associate—a young woman—had already met Beng yesterday.”

  “Toran, I can explain—” said Leah quickly.

  “You’ve been lying to me,” he cut her off. “You deliberately intercepted a message that was meant for me and hid it from me.”

  Leah shook her head violently. “It wasn’t deliberate! It… it just sort of happened—”

  “Sort of happened?” Toran asked incredulously.

  Leah shrank back. She had never seen him so angry.

  “How can it ‘sort of happen’ when you need to key in my passcode to access my phone? And I assume that you must have deleted the record of the call because I couldn’t find it in my call log.” A muscle ticked in the corner of his jaw. “That is deliberate deception in my book, Leah. You lied to me on purpose.” He gave her a look that tore at her heart. “I can’t believe it, Leah. You, of all people—”

  “No, please, listen to me,” said Leah desperately. “I never meant to lie to you. I was just… I was going to tell you everything—but then I thought it would be good to get this extra information from Black Buddha first.” Quickly she told him what she had learnt from Beng about the man he had picked up that night, who could have been the driver of the taxi.

  “Wait… why do you call this ‘extra information’?” Toran frowned. “Are you saying that there was something else before this message? What else are you holding back?”

  Leah shifted uncomfortably. Her tongue felt like a swollen lump in her mouth. She swallowed and said, “Yes, there is something else. I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now… I… I found something in one of my father’s letters. You know the ones that he left me in the concealed safe. And… and in one of them, he talks about your parents’ accident.”

  Toran’s gaze sharpened. “Why would your father mention my parents’ accident?”

  Leah gripped the edge of the counter. “Because… um… because I think… he might have been involved.”

  Toran went very still. “Involved?”

  “I’m… I’m not sure… I mean, I could be reading it wrong,” said Leah desperately

  “Can I see this letter?” asked Toran in a dangerously quiet voice.

  Leah retrieved the bundle of letters from the bathroom. She extracted the relevant page and handed it to Toran, who read it in silence.

  “I spoke to Ah Song and he keeps saying that I’m wrong to think badly of my father, that I need to try to be more understanding,”

  Toran gave a short, cynical laugh. “Your driver probably feels a certain loyalty to your father and feels compelled to defend his old employer. I mean, your father treated him well. Ah Song might even feel that he has your father to thank for enabling him to open his own taxi business. And there was probably also the reluctance to speak ill of the dead.”

  “No, it wasn’t just that,” Leah protested. “He really—”

  “Leah, we both know that your father was a ruthless man with no morals who could have easily arranged to have my parents killed,” Toran said savagely. He held up the letter. “How long have you known about this?”

  Leah licked her lips. “Since… Since that weekend when we got back from Sanctum Bona Dea. I mean, I’ve had the letters for a while, of course, but for a long time I couldn’t bring myself to read them properly. I only skimmed a few pages here and there. Then… then that day we were at the Chinatown teahouse, you told me the story about your parents’ accident and you mentioned Black Buddha as a contact. I remember thinking the name sounded vaguely familiar to me, as if I had seen it somewhere before, but I just couldn’t remember where.”

  Leah tried to gauge Toran’s reaction to what she was saying, but his face was expressionless, his green eyes shuttered. She continued:

  “Then after we got out of the cult and were spending that weekend which Julia organised at the hotel…” Leah’s cheeks reddened slightly as she remembered those heady two days filled with passion and love, when she had given her body and herself to Toran completely. She glanced at him again but he showed no matching flicker of memory. She rushed on, “You got that text message from Black Buddha on your phone—remember? That’s when it clicked and I remembered where I had seen the name. Then when… when I was alone, I checked my father’s letters and I found that passage.”

  “So you’ve known all this time…” said Toran. “You’ve known for weeks and you never told me.”

  “I was going to tell you!” cried Leah. “But… well… I was waiting for the right time. The letter
was all so vague—I thought it would be good to do a bit more research first, get more facts—”

  “This is my parents’ murder we’re talking about,” said Toran through clenched teeth. “This isn’t some bloody weekend feature for a magazine! You had information about my parents’ deaths this whole time—and you knew I was trying to find answers—and yet you hid it from me.”

  “No, it wasn’t like that!” protested Leah.

  “Then what was it like?” demanded Toran. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I… I was scared,” Leah said, her lips trembling. “I was scared of how you would react. We… we were finally together… we were happy… and I didn’t want a new thing to come between us. I thought… if you knew about this—about what my father might have done—it might change everything…”

  Toran shook his head impatiently. “Did you have no faith in me at all? Did you not think that I could have been reasonable and understanding about it? Or that we could have been strong enough to deal with this as a couple?”

  “I… I didn’t know what to think!” said Leah. “I was just scared, okay? I felt like this could destroy everything that we had just built together. I mean, look at the way you’re reacting now!”

  “The way I’m reacting now,” said Toran furiously, “is not because of the fact that your father might have been involved in my parents’ murder. It’s the fact that you lied to me. You deliberately deceived me and have been lying to my face for the past few weeks.”

  Leah cringed. Each of Toran’s words felt like lashes of a whip.

  “How can I can believe in you now? Every word, every smile, every action… they could all be lies! You should have trusted in us enough as a couple to get through this together. Instead, you chose to lie. How can I trust anything you say to me now?” asked Toran bitterly.

  “Toran—” Leah moved towards him, her hands outstretched.