TENDER BETRAYAL (Mystery Romance): The TENDER Series ~ Book 3 Page 5

  He jerked away from her. Leah stopped and dropped her hands to her sides. She felt like she had been slapped. Toran had never looked at her that way before.

  He sighed and dragged a hand across his face. “I… I think we need to spend some time apart.”

  Leah’s heart lurched. “Apart? What do you mean apart—”

  “I mean a break. Away from each other,” said Toran.

  Leah gasped. “No, Toran, please—”

  He stepped away from her. “I’m sorry, Leah. I can’t… I just can’t look at you right now. I need some time alone.”

  Turning, he strode from the room. Leah heard him packing a few items in the bedroom, then a few minutes later he came out again, carrying a small holdall. He hesitated as he passed her and, for a second, Leah’s heart leapt in hope. She wanted to turn to Toran, to throw herself into his arms, to feel his lips on hers and to hear his voice say that it didn’t matter, that he forgave her—but the next moment, he had turned away from her and was heading swiftly for the front door.

  She stood like a statue as the door slammed shut after him.

  CHAPTER 8

  Toran got into his Audi convertible, tossed his holdall into the passenger seat and slammed the door. He started the engine and floored the accelerator, sending the car roaring down the road. He had no idea where he was going—he was simply driving in a blaze of white-hot fury. Hurt, anger, disappointment, and disbelief washed over him again as he thought about what Leah had done.

  She had lied to him.

  She had lied to his face and smiled while doing it. All those times they had kissed, made love, and spent the night in each other’s arms, she had been plotting and hiding the truth from him. He felt like he had been played for a fool. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He couldn’t believe that Leah—his Leah—could betray him like this.

  After a while, Toran realised that he was driving blindly, with no idea which road he was on. He peered out of the windscreen, trying to get his bearings. Somehow, he had managed to get himself onto the Pan Island Expressway and if he kept driving the way he was now, he would end up in Malaysia soon!

  Taking a deep breath, Toran shifted back in his seat and tried to release the tension from his neck and shoulders. He eased his grip on the steering wheel and shifted gears, slowing the car’s speed on the road. For a moment, he debated what to do, then on an impulse he changed lanes and took the first exit off the highway. Following a series of turns and side roads, he turned the car around and sent it back in the direction of the city and Chinatown.

  The Blue Orchid was one of the new breed of boutique hotels in Chinatown—catering to a more discerning crowd who were not willing to sacrifice character and charm for luxury and comfort. It promised the same five-star service and quality as any of the big chain hotels but in much more unique surroundings. It was one of the latest success stories for maverick entrepreneur, Dieter Wolfe. Known in the Singapore business scene as one of the brightest and most creative entrepreneurial minds, Dieter had already amassed an impressive portfolio of retail and hospitality assets for a man of his age. He had a knack for spotting potential and an unrivalled ability to put an innovative spin on a project, turning it into the latest “hot” destination for the hip and trendy.

  As a long-time friend, Dieter was also one of the few people that Toran trusted. He made his way now into the intimate lobby of the Blue Orchid, hoping that his friend would be there. Despite having properties all over town, this boutique hotel, with its opulent interior reminiscent of 1920s Shanghai opium dens, remained Dieter’s favourite and he usually used it as his base.

  “Toran.” Dieter looked up with pleasure when Toran was shown into his inner office. Then his gaze sharpened as he looked at Toran’s face. “Trouble?”

  Toran sighed and threw himself into a chair next to Dieter’s desk, stretching his long legs in front of him. He shook his head. “No. Just… needed to get away for a bit.”

  Dieter raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. That was one of the things Toran always liked about the Irish-German entrepreneur: his non-judgemental attitude and his respect for privacy. Perhaps it was because Dieter himself seemed to keep so many secrets, but he never showed any inclination to pry, even in the most unusual circumstances. Toran remembered arriving at this hotel with Leah during her first trip to Singapore, after she had been threatened and assaulted, and needed a place to hide. Dieter had asked no questions then, just as he asked no questions now.

  “If you need somewhere to stay, the Phoenix suite is free for as long as you need it. I assume, this time, you’re not presumed dead?” Dieter asked with a dry smile.

  Toran grimaced. “No, nothing like that. It’s… something to do with Leah.” Even as he said it, Toran felt a flicker of unease—as if he had betrayed Leah by talking about her and their problems to someone else. Then he caught himself angrily. Why was he feeling guilty? She had betrayed him far more with her actions than anything he had ever done!

  He saw his friend give him a shrewd look.

  “Ah.” Dieter paused, then said mildly, “Women can be difficult sometimes.”

  “Women can be liars,” Toran said bitterly.

  Dieter leaned back in his chair. “You know I don’t normally interfere in affairs outside my own,” he said. “But if you are talking about Leah… perhaps you should consider her reasons.”

  “There is no good reason to lie!” snapped Toran.

  Dieter said nothing, which annoyed Toran even more. His friend’s silence made him want to justify himself, to accuse Leah, to lay out the whole sordid business… but he bit down on the words.

  “You’re angry now,” said Dieter calmly. “Maybe it’s best if you focus on something else for a while. Cool off.”

  “Shouldn’t you be sharing your stories of women trouble to cheer me up?” Toran said sarcastically.

  Dieter gave a cryptic smile. “I try to keep away from trouble.”

  Toran looked at his friend curiously. He knew that Dieter never lacked for female companionship. His success and his saturnine good looks ensured that women always flocked to his side wherever he went and he was never seen at social events without a bevy of beauties on his arm. But Toran never got the sense that there was anyone special in Dieter’s life. He wondered now if this was because his friend had never met the right woman or if he was alone by choice.

  As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Dieter changed the subject smoothly. “Word is on the street that you’ve struck up some kind of deal with Black Buddha.”

  Toran raised his eyebrows. “How did you know?”

  Dieter shrugged. “I have my sources. So it’s true? Be careful, Toran. That man is not to be trusted.”

  Toran inclined his head. “I know what I’m doing. Besides, he’s the best chance I’ve got of finding the information I need. In fact, he’s come through already with some intel.”

  Toran thought of Leah’s clandestine meeting with Beng and he felt a flash of anger again at her deception, but he tried to ignore it and focus instead on the information the man had provided. He needed to speak to the stall owner himself, he decided.

  “I need to go and meet a contact,” he said abruptly, standing up.

  “A new case?” asked Dieter.

  “No, an old one,” said Toran. “My parents’ murder.”

  “Murder?” Dieter looked at him in surprise. “I thought your parents died in a freak car accident during bad weather.”

  “I thought so too,” said Toran grimly. Quickly, he filled Dieter in on the background behind his suspicions and the implication in David Fisher’s letter. Without mentioning Leah’s specific role in getting the information, he relayed the story from Beng Chew Hoon, the stall owner at Lau Pa Sat.

  “I need to go and see Beng,” said Toran. “Especially if he has more information about the man he picked up.” He ran an impatient hand through his hair. “Sounds like that man was the driver of the taxi my parents were
in. If I can find him and find out who hired him, then I can find out who was behind the whole thing—”

  “And if it was Leah’s father?” asked Dieter.

  “Then I want to know why,” said Toran grimly. “Why did he plan this sabotage and essentially have my parents killed?”

  “Don’t you think you ought to be doing this with Leah?” asked Dieter gently.

  Toran’s mouth tightened. “She didn’t feel that she had to do anything together with me. In fact, she went behind my back and hid things from me.”

  “There is an old saying—I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” said Dieter. “Two wrongs do not make a right.”

  “I’ve heard of another saying,” said Toran evenly. “Once bitten, twice shy.”

  Dieter stood up from his chair. “I’ll come with you.”

  Toran looked at him in surprise. “Why?”

  Dieter shrugged. “I’m not doing anything in particular this afternoon.” He paused, then added, “And I don’t trust Black Buddha—or his sources. I think you need someone to watch your back.”

  Leah stared at the wall after Toran had left the apartment, his last words ringing in her ears. She felt hot tears spring to her eyes, but she wouldn’t let herself cry. A part of her wanted to protest, to defend herself and explain again why she had done what she did. But another part of her knew that she deserved every accusation that Toran had levelled at her. She had lied to him, when she should have told the truth. There was no excuse for that.

  But Toran is wrong about my father, she thought grimly. She wasn’t just desperately clutching at straws. The more she thought about it, the more she agreed with Ah Song. She knew—somewhere deep inside—she knew that her father could not have cold-bloodedly ordered a “hit” on Toran’s parents. Whatever else she thought of him, she felt certain of that. There had been guilt shown in his letter, yes, but terrible remorse too. It just did not sound like a man who could organise such a cold-blooded crime. Wouldn’t he have been rejoicing that it was completed, if that had been the case, instead of showing the horror he had expressed? She was convinced that her father was innocent, that there was more to this whole story, and she was going to prove it.

  She just didn’t know how far she was willing to go—would she stand by her convictions, even at the cost of losing Toran?

  Her mind in a turmoil, Leah curled up on the sofa and grabbed one of the cushions, hugging it to her chest. She tucked her head down, squeezing the cushion tight. The memory of the fury on Toran’s face flashed through her mind. Panic filled her. What if she had ruined everything and there was no way to fix it? What if Toran really never wanted to see her again?

  She curled into a ball of misery and rocked back and forth. Julia had warned her about what might happen if Toran found out that she had been lying to him—in fact, she had had a voice in her own head screaming warnings at herself—but she had chosen to ignore them all. A sob escaped her. Then another. Leah squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the hot tears run down her face.

  Then her mobile rang.

  Toran?

  Leah snatched it up. “H-hello?” she said, gulping back a sob.

  “Hey, Leah, I thought we could… what’s wrong?” Julia asked in alarm.

  “Oh Julia…!” Before she realised what she was doing, Leah had poured everything out to her friend. “I know what you’re going to say,” she said, sniffing. “You’re going to say: ‘I told you so’.”

  “Good friends never say, ‘I told you so’,” said Julia. “Anyway, calm down. It will be all right. Look, you’ve just had an argument—all couples have them. And you always say things in the heat of the moment that you don’t mean. I know Toran loves you—and he’ll forgive you.”

  Leah drew a shuddering breath. “Do you think so, Julia? Do you really think so? I don’t know… The way he looked at me—it was like he never wanted to see me again.”

  “He’s just angry at the moment. Let him cool off a bit and when he’s had some time and distance, you can speak to him again. I’m sure he’ll understand why you didn’t tell him.”

  “I don’t think he will ever forgive me,” said Leah miserably.

  “Of course he will,” said Julia briskly.

  “But it’s not just that,” said Leah. “We also argued about my father.”

  “What you mean?” asked Julia.

  “Toran is convinced that my father is guilty. That my father hired someone—probably a thug of Black Buddha’s—to kill Toran’s parents. But he’s wrong!” said Leah quickly. “I know he’s wrong! He’s condemning my father without any proof—other than what’s said in that letter—but I know my father wouldn’t be as ruthless as that! I just need to prove it.”

  “How are you going to do that?” Julia sounded sceptical.

  “I don’t know.” Leah sighed. “What I really need to do is speak to the driver of the car that Toran’s parents were in. If Beng was telling the truth, then that driver might still be alive and he would be able to tell me who hired him. But I don’t know how to find him—other than going back to Beng… he said he had extra infor—”

  “No, don’t go back there,” said Julia quickly. “That guy sounded like a total creep and I think it’s too dangerous. You were crazy to go alone the first time, Leah. You should have at least got me to go with you! And I also think that’s Toran’s territory now. The last thing you want to do is meddle anymore in his dealings with Black Buddha.” She paused, then said, “But listen—what about your father’s letters? Maybe you could find some leads in there? I mean, you said he mentioned Black Buddha—maybe there’s more information in there.”

  “I wish I could burn those letters,” said Leah bitterly. “I wish I had never found them!”

  “Well, you can’t change the past now so no point thinking that,” said Julia.

  Leah sighed. “Why do you always have to be so practical, Julia?”

  Her friend giggled. “I’m Chinese. Practical is my middle name. Anyway, it’s true. As the Chinese say, no use trying to drink spilt soya milk.”

  “They say that?”

  “No, silly,” Julia giggled again. “I just made that up.”

  Leah chuckled in spite of herself.

  “Listen, go and wash your face now. You’ll feel better,” said Julia. “And then go out and have a treat… get a facial, have a manicure… do some shopping! Shopping is always good.”

  “Julia…” Leah said, shaking her head and laughing. “Shopping isn’t the cure for everything.”

  “It is in Singapore,” said Julia. “Anyway, I have to go now—I’ve got a hair appointment—but I’ll speak to you later and you’d better have given your credit card a serious workout by then!”

  CHAPTER 9

  The lunchtime rush was over and the crowds in Lau Pa Sat had thinned out by the time they got there. Toran made his way quickly through the hawker centre, with Dieter a few steps behind him, and they found Stall 72 with no problems. A short wiry Asian man was standing behind the counter, manning the sugar cane juice machine. Beng Chew Hoon. He eyed them warily as they approached.

  “You want sugar cane juice?” he asked.

  “No, I want information.” said Toran. “I understand you have some more info about the man you picked up at Yishun Dam five years ago.”

  Beng’s mouth drooped in disappointment. “Oh? What happen to pretty lady from last time?” he asked with a lascivious grin. He made a sexually suggestive hand gesture. “Lot of steam see chiobu like her.”

  Toran clenched his hands, resisting the sudden impulse to smash his fist into the man’s face. The thought of this low-life leering over Leah made him see red. And the thought of Leah coming alone to meet this man and putting herself in danger made him even more furious. What had she been thinking? Didn’t she realise what risk she was putting herself in? He felt Dieter shift reflexively beside him, as if intending to restrain him, and forced himself to relax.

  Toran took a deep breath and said, as calmly as possible, “No, s
he couldn’t come today, but you can talk to me.” He slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

  Beng’s eyes flicked to the money and he hesitated, then he gave Toran a sly look. “Why you want to know?”

  “That’s my business,” said Toran, waving the money. “You just decide if you want the money.”

  Beng’s sly grin widened. “Ah… but if you pay, maybe other one will pay too. Maybe other pay more.”

  Damn. Toran cursed himself. He’d forgotten the first rule of negotiation: never show your opponent how much you want something. He had been preoccupied with thinking about this man and Leah, and had made a mistake offering the money too quickly. It showed his desperation. There was only one way to reclaim power in the negotiations now: bluff.

  Toran withdrew his hand and put the money back in his pocket. “Fine. Good luck with getting another offer.” He turned to go.

  “Wait!”

  Toran turned back and quirked an eyebrow.

  “Okay… you… you come back tonight,” Beng said sullenly. “Come midnight. Can tell you extra info.”

  Toran gave a curt nod, then strode away, Dieter following.

  “Do you trust him?” asked Dieter as they stepped out of the hawker centre and into the afternoon sunshine. The humidity was dropping slightly but the air was still hot and stifling. It felt like one of those sudden rainstorms—so typical of Singapore weather—was coming.

  “No,” said Toran with a humourless grin. “But I don’t have much choice. I made a mistake there, showing my hand too soon. Of course, the little weasel is going to see if he can sell this information somewhere else now at a higher price—that’s why he wanted me to come back tonight—so that he has time today to see if he can get a better offer.”

  “Who else can he offer this information to?” asked Dieter. “The only other person who might value it is the driver himself. You said that Leah’s father mentioned Black Buddha being involved—maybe David Fisher hired one of Black Buddha’s thugs to do his dirty work? If that thug was still around, I’ll bet he’d want to get rid of any evidence of his connection to this incident.”