TENDER DECEIT (Mystery Romance): The TENDER Series ~ Book 1 Page 7

  CHAPTER 9

  Murder. The word hung in the air between them, like a foul smell. Leah felt an illogical urge to laugh and had to bite her lip to stop the hysterical sound emerging. This was crazy, she told herself. Completely crazy. Bad B-movie was right. Any minute now, Toran would start climbing out of the cable car like 007 and shooting at metal-toothed villains in passing helicopters…

  She took a quick gulp of the champagne and immediately wished she hadn’t as the bubbles fizzed in her head. Toran was looking at her, his eyes hooded, obviously waiting for her to speak. Leah stared back at him, her mind whirling. What could she say?

  “Wh-who was it?” she asked finally.

  “A woman. A woman who got in Bentley Warne’s way. And he’s always had the same method for dealing with problems. Get rid of them.”

  “Are you sure your contact was being serious?” Leah asked. “I mean… well, killing someone is pretty extreme.”

  Toran’s eyes glinted. “You don’t joke when you’re talking about murder.”

  This time when Leah heard the word, it didn’t spark such a sense of disbelief. In fact, she found that it was slowly settling in her mind, like the way sand settles underwater and takes new shape after you’ve disturbed it. Maybe it was the matter-of-fact way Toran spoke—if he had been more melodramatic, she might have resisted it more. Instead, she found that she was already accepting the reality of “murder”—it was no longer something which happened only in books or movies, but something which could happen in her world too.

  Leah realised that Toran was still talking and made an effort to drag her concentration back to him.

  “…I need, but Warne has made sure that my contact won’t be speaking to me again.”

  Leah shook her head. “If they tried to silence your contact, wouldn’t they have made the effort to silence you too?”

  “Oh, they did.” His mouth twisted.

  There was a pause. Then she said breathlessly, “The yacht.”

  “Yes,” Toran said grimly. “On Saturday morning, I tried to reach my contact again, but I came up against a blank. I had no way of getting more information—I had run out of leads, but I knew I was on the scent of something big. So, in frustration, I called Bentley Warne’s secretary again to try and get an interview with him. To be honest, I thought it was a long shot—I’ve tried countless times to speak to him before, but always got shot down as soon as they heard my name. I was pretty certain that after the fiasco last year, there was definitely no way Warne would grant me an interview now, but… well, ‘tenacious’ is a good journalist’s middle name. I was really surprised when they told me that Warne would see me that evening.”

  “And that didn’t make you wonder?” Leah demanded. “I mean, the man wanted to put you in prison! Why would he suddenly agree to answer your questions and let you write things about him again?”

  Toran shook his head wryly. “I guess it should have. I let my excitement rule my head. I was just so elated at the thought of finally getting a chance to speak to Warne—to grill him in person—that I didn’t really think too much about ulterior motives.” He paused. “Not then, anyway. But I did think about it later—I think that was what saved my life.”

  “On the yacht,” Leah said.

  He nodded. “Warne was holding one of his charity things on board his yacht, the Lady Mathilda, moored at Sentosa Cove, but he said he could see me for a few minutes during the party. He sent me an invite and said he’d find me there. When I got on board, I saw him with some of the party guests. He waved to me and then I was escorted to a cabin at the rear of the yacht and told to wait there for him.” Toran gave a grim smile. “The windows from the cabin looked out onto the opposite side of the marina. There’s a building there which is completely covered with glass windows—almost like a mirror—and that’s what saved me. I looked out and saw a reflection in the windows of this building. It was Warne, getting off the yacht with some of his men and hurrying away. The alarm bells went off. I didn’t stop to think. I just ran out on deck and threw myself off the side of the yacht. The entire stern exploded seconds later. The cabin I was in was completely destroyed.”

  There was silence in the cable car. Leah stared at Toran, then looked out of the window, not quite able to take his story in. The wires above them creaked slightly as the cable car continued smoothly on its journey. They had passed through the station at HarbourFront Tower Two and crossed the harbour, and were now almost at Sentosa Island. The lights of a few ships out at sea winked back at her.

  “But… what about the news reports?” she asked, finally turning back to Toran. “Julia said—the newspapers—they seemed to have identified you as a fatality in that accident—”

  Toran made a sound of derision. “They’d have been lucky to identify a piece of burnt toast in that mess. They were just making an assumption based on the guest list of those on board and the fact that I haven’t come forward since the accident to show that I survived. I haven’t bothered to correct that.”

  “You’re faking your own death?” Leah stared at him. “But what about your parents? Won’t they be devastated if they think—”

  “My parents died five years ago. I have no other close family.”

  “Oh.” Leah swallowed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I remember seeing your mother sometimes at school. She was lovely.” She didn’t add that the first time she had met Toran’s mother was that fateful day in the principal’s office, but the memory of it brought colour to her cheeks. She was glad for the dim light in the cabin.

  Toran’s eyes met hers in a way that suggested he knew what she was thinking about and Leah felt her cheeks burn even more, but all he did was say, “Thank you. It has actually worked in my favour because it meant that I could let the lie rest. No one… well, not many really important people are going to miss me. Some friends will be upset if they find out, but that can’t be helped for now. When things are cleared up, I’ll explain it to them.”

  Did that mean that there was no girlfriend—no one special—who would miss him? Leah despised herself for the sudden spurt of curiosity and pushed the thought away. She cleared her throat. “So Warne thinks you’re dead?”

  “Yes,” he said. “And I intend to let people keep thinking that until I find out what’s going on. But I’m taking no chances. Warne isn’t stupid. I’m sure he’s got his men checking things. He’s good at digging up connections. I don’t know if Warne knows about us, but I know they’re keeping an eye on you.”

  Leah felt her cheeks warm again at his mention of “us”—what did he mean? What did he think there was for Warne to know? But she kept her expression neutral and said, “I thought I was being followed at Heathrow Airport. And again just now when I was on the MRT. But each time, the man disappeared so I thought maybe I was just being paranoid—”

  “No, you weren’t being paranoid.” Toran looked amused. “You were being followed just now. By Curtis, one of Warne’s security personnel. But don’t worry. I took care of him.”

  “What do you mean you ‘took care of him’?” Leah asked.

  He looked at her blandly. “I haven’t just been sitting behind a desk these twelve years, you know.”

  She ran her eyes over him. So she’d been right last night in Clarke Quay when she thought that hard, muscular body could do more than just pose in a gym. He was wearing a simple blue shirt with his black jeans, but the soft, linen fabric did little to disguise the power and strength in his arms and shoulders. Toran James was a man who could handle himself in a fight.

  “I was a war correspondent for a few years,” he said calmly. “Reported from a few dangerous places. I had some combat training, made sure I knew how to protect myself and those around me.”

  “What did you do to Curtis?”

  “He’ll be fine. Just a sore head tomorrow. And he’ll have had no idea who jumped him.”

  She shook her head. “It was still a crazy risk. Why did you ask to meet out here in public? Shouldn’t yo
u have—”

  “Don’t you remember doing Poe at school? ‘The Purloined Letter’? Sometimes the best hiding places are in plain sight.” He gave that wolfish grin again. “Even if they suspect that I’m not really dead, Warne’s men would never think that I would risk being seen in public. In fact, it’s easier to hide in a tourist crowd. And they’ll be watching your hotel, your movements—so it would be perfectly natural for you to go check out some of the major tourist attractions, whereas it would be much more suspicious if you suddenly went to a deserted part of town to meet me.”

  Again, Leah wondered at his easy assumption of an involvement between them—that somehow, her trip back to Singapore this time would definitely include a meeting with him. Had he expected that, after all these years, he could just contact her out of the blue, snap his fingers, and she would come running? She sat back as a humiliating thought struck her.

  Isn’t that what she did?

  The cable car creaked as it glided once more into the station at Mount Faber. They had completed the first round trip. The cabin doors slid open and a smiling waiter exchanged their empty plates for the main course, refilled their glasses, and sent them on their way again for another round trip to Sentosa and back.

  As soon as the doors slid shut, Toran leaned forwards and said. “But Warne’s men are not going to give up. They’ll be watching you still, waiting to see what you know.”

  Leah shook her head. “I don’t understand—why me? Why would they be interested in me? I’ve had nothing to do with Bentley Warne and I… we… we haven’t been in touch for years. Why should they think I’m involved at all?”

  She sensed Toran hesitating slightly before he said, “My contact mentioned your father.”

  Leah gaped at him. “My father?”

  “Yes, your father. My contact mentioned that David Fisher had information—evidence—which could help me prove Warne’s guilt.”

  “But why would my father—”

  “Curtis was following you earlier this afternoon,” he cut in. “He was watching you when you were at your villa.”

  Her eyes widened. “My father’s study…”

  “Yes?” Toran’s gaze sharpened.

  “My father’s study had been ransacked—someone had been in there, searching very thoroughly.”

  “Did you notice anything missing?” asked Toran.

  Leah thought of what she had found in the concealed safe inside the gramophone cabinet. But those were personal things—her father’s letters, her mother’s photos—surely they would have nothing to do with Bentley Warne? Was it worth even mentioning? Besides… She looked at the man across the table. Once, she would have trusted Toran with her life. But now, he was a grim-eyed stranger who scared her because he could still elicit a force of feeling that she thought only belonged in a schoolgirl infatuation.

  “Leah?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “N-nothing,” she said. “It was all a mess. I’m not sure if anything was taken. There was a safe—hidden behind a painting—which had been opened. But I don’t know what was in there originally, so I couldn’t tell if anything had been taken. There were some certificates… a gold Rolex watch… some cash…”

  Toran shook his head impatiently. “Your father always struck me as a careful man. He would never have left the evidence in a safe that could be so easily discovered.”

  “But it would have been locked—”

  He made a dismissive gesture. “It’s fairly easy to crack a safe if you know how—I could do it myself. Anyway, I don’t think they found what they wanted. Otherwise, they wouldn’t still be following you. They must think that you found something they didn’t.”

  And you? Leah wondered silently, looking at him from beneath her lashes. She was aware that Toran stood to gain from the same knowledge, that he was after the same thing as Warne’s men. Was that the reason he contacted her again after all these years? The real reason he wanted to see her tonight?

  She picked up her fork and toyed with the food on the plate in front of her. The main course was crispy pork belly, drizzled with hoisin sauce and served on a bed of purple yam mash, with sautéed pak choy, shitake mushrooms, and roasted sesame seeds. Fragrant steam rose from the plate, but Leah found that her appetite seemed to have vanished.

  “How did you know that Curtis was watching me at the villa today?” she asked Toran.

  His face was inscrutable. “I was there.”

  “You were following me?” She jerked her eyes to his.

  “I was following Curtis, actually, but I wasn’t surprised when I saw him tailing you to your father’s house. Leah…” Toran made a movement as if to reach across the table, then stopped himself. He looked at her intently. “I need your help. Bentley Warne has shown that he will stop at nothing to silence me. I know too much now. My only hope is to find this evidence your father had and expose Warne before he has a chance to stop me.” He paused. “Is there anything else you found? Anything you haven’t told me?”

  Yes! Leah wanted to say. A part of her wanted to trust him, to tell him everything, but something held her back. She hesitated, then shook her head.

  Toran tilted his head and something wistful came into his eyes. “The last time we were in a cable car together, you told me that there were many girls who wanted to be my friend. You said that I hardly needed you.”

  Leah drew in a sharp breath as the memories hit her again like a breaking wave.

  “I need you now, Leah,” Toran said.

  Can I trust you? Leah’s eyes were pleading as she stared up at him. Toran fought the urge to reach across the table and seize her hand. He had been fighting the urge to touch her ever since they had come aboard the cable car. Her proximity in such a small space had affected him more than he cared to admit, the tantalising scent of her faint perfume, the way the light played across the hollows of her delicate neck and collarbone. He felt his body tightening as he remembered the feel of her against him in the lift earlier.

  He had thought that he was over her and that the whole thing was nothing more than a forgotten schoolboy dream. He was a man now—harder, wiser, and not about to make a fool of himself again. He had convinced himself that when he saw Leah again, he would feel nothing except the natural curiosity towards an old classmate. It had been a shock to discover that those wide blue eyes and heart-shaped face still had the power to move him as much as they once did.

  Not that there hadn’t been other women these past twelve years. Female company was something that had never been lacking since his teens. And God knows, he had tried to forget. It had worked, for a while, each time. But there had always been something—a part of him—that had remained untouched. Looking at Leah now, Toran felt that forgotten corner of his heart stir again. Instead of a faint curiosity about a girl he had once loved, he felt a sudden resurrection of that long-dead yearning and a fierce desire to get to know the woman that she had become.

  He reached out slowly and brushed a strand of hair from her temple. He saw the memory of that gesture flare in her eyes and something else besides.

  “Toran…” she whispered.

  Almost against his will, he reached out and caught her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. He knew he shouldn’t, but something compelled him to pull her gently towards him. He saw her blue eyes darken, her lips parting in anticipation, and he felt an answering thudding in his own heart. They had been here, once before, and there was no Eric Hu this time, no principal, no school rules to stop them. He tightened his hold on her hand, pulling her even closer…

  A loud creaking sound broke the moment. Leah jerked back, yanking her hand out of his grasp. Toran sat back, not sure if he felt relief or frustration, and ran a distracted hand through his hair. He looked around. They were gliding once more into Mount Faber station. Already he could see the waiter through the windows, approaching the cabin with two dishes in his hands. Dessert.

  Leah stood up shakily. “I’m sorry. I… I have to go,” she said, grabbing her handbag
and pushing her way past the surprised waiter as the cabin doors slid open.

  “Wait, Leah—”

  Toran jumped out of the cable car after her, but collided with the waiter. He stepped impatiently around the man, ignoring the other’s cry of dismay as the dessert plates smashed on the floor, and chased after Leah. She was already running out of the station, onto the street. A couple was alighting from a taxi and she jumped in and took their place.

  “Leah! Wait!” he shouted.

  He thought he caught a glimpse of her face, looking back as the taxi pulled smoothly away, then she was swallowed up by the night. The silence settled around him, broken only by the soft chanting of cicadas on the mountainside.

  He would see her again tomorrow, Toran decided grimly. He would tell her everything then. She deserved to know. He thought of David Fisher and, for a moment, something in him balked at the thought of telling Leah the truth about her father. Could he keep the truth from her, he wondered bleakly, and still have her trust him?

  CHAPTER 10

  Leah rolled over in bed and eyed the clock blearily. It was already late morning. She had overslept. Sighing, she lay back on the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. Last night when she had got back, she had gone about on autopilot, getting undressed, washed, ready for bed… and deliberately kept her mind blank. But now she couldn’t hold back the floodgates any longer. Furiously, her mind replayed the evening with Toran, especially how the evening might have ended….

  What was happening to her? How could she have almost let him kiss her? Leah’s face burned now at the memory of what had almost happened in the cable car. How could she have let him so easily wear down the defences that she had built up around her heart these past twelve years?

  It was the phone ringing that finally interrupted her tormented thoughts. Reaching over, Leah picked up the receiver and put the phone to her ear, her heartbeat quickening slightly as she wondered if it might be Toran.