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

by H. Y. Hanna

  Toran seemed to barely hear her. He had prowled around the room and was now heading back out into the hallway again. Leah hurriedly followed him. She found him down the other end of the house, peering into the bedrooms. Two guestrooms, the beds pristine, then her father’s bedroom, decorated in masculine accents of leather and mahogany. They went through all the drawers and cupboards in there. Nothing.

  They stood before the last door in the hallway. Leah’s old bedroom. She hadn’t been in there since that fateful Sunday when her father had told her about her immediate enrolment in boarding school. Leah hesitated, her hand on the doorknob, then she turned it and stepped inside.

  It was just as she had left it. Oh, it wasn’t dusty and covered in cobwebs in a creepy Miss Haversham kind of way—someone, her father’s weekly cleaner, had kept it neat and dusted—but it was almost as if her fourteen-year-old self had just walked out and might return at any moment. The Backstreet Boys and Heath Ledger posters on the wall, her favourite drawings stuck up on the corkboard next to a giant horoscope chart, the stack of old school textbooks on the desk, her ancient iPod lying in a tangle of earphone cords, a half-finished friendship bracelet on the bedside table… Leah found herself walking in as if in a dream. She went over to the bed and sat down, picking up the friendship bracelet.

  “I was making this for Julia…” she whispered, a lump coming to her throat.

  Toran sat down on the bed next to her. His hands closed over hers and Leah felt strength in their warm clasp. He was very close—she could smell the faint mixture of soap and a clean, masculine scent. She looked down at their hands entwined together. A part of her mind was remembering all those times, so many years ago, when she had lain on this bed and dreamt of Toran. Of Toran smiling at her, Toran taking her hand, Toran kissing her…

  Leah raised her eyes to Toran’s brilliant green ones. Again, she got the feeling that he knew exactly what she was thinking. Somewhere she could hear a loud pounding. She realised it was her own heart. She swallowed and licked suddenly dry lips. She saw his gaze drop to her mouth and her heart raced even faster.

  Toran’s arms slid slowly around her. Half of her wanted to jerk back and the other half of her—the wanton, treacherous half—wanted him to pull her even closer. Then he lowered his head and his lips found hers and all she could do was feel, breathe, taste as her senses were filled with him.

  The kiss became hungrier, more insistent. Leah felt herself being pushed gently backwards and then the bed dipped as she was pressed into the soft pillows, Toran’s body lying on top of hers like a heavy heat. One of his hands tangled in her hair while the other one slid down over her ribcage, caressing the curve of her hip, lingering on the bare skin of her thigh where her shorts ended. The touch of his fingers on her flesh made her shiver. He grabbed her leg and pulled it hard up against him, wrapping it around him. There was something shockingly erotic about the forcefulness of his gesture.

  His lips left hers and trailed a path across her cheek, then down her neck to the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat. Leah sighed softly and clung to him, dropping her head back. The room spun around her. Her eyes flew upwards and she saw, upside down, the posters on the wall, her childhood drawings, the horoscope chart—Aries, Capricorn, Leo…

  Leo.

  “The lion!” she gasped, pushing Toran back.

  “What?” Toran rolled back on one elbow, staring at her, breathing hard.

  “The drawing… my drawing of the lion at Singapore Zoo, the one on the fridge—he did it—he knew, the day we went, I’d remember…” said Leah, speaking too fast. She struggled to untangle herself from Toran and sit up. She took a deep breath. “I know where my father’s hidden the weapon.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Toran sat up slowly. “You think you know where your father’s hidden the dagger?”

  Leah nodded eagerly. “He left that picture up on the fridge on purpose.”

  Toran ran a hand distractedly through his dark hair. “You think he was trying to leave you a coded message?”

  “I know he was!” said Leah. “That picture—I drew that the day after my father took me to Singapore Zoo. I was six and it’s one of the few memories I have of doing something with him.”

  Toran frowned. “So I don’t understand how—”

  “I had insisted on taking my favourite stuffed toy,” interrupted Leah. “This giant teddy bear that was practically as big as I was, and when I got there, I realised that I didn’t actually want to lug it around with me. So we stored it in one of the zoo lockers. And my father gave me the key and told me to keep it safe. But I lost it. And we couldn’t get my teddy bear out—we had to leave without it and I cried all the way home. They did eventually get it out and returned it to me the next day. They had to get a locksmith out to undo the lock.” She looked at Toran excitedly. “That’s where my father has hidden the weapon. In a locker at the zoo. I’m sure of it. The first day I came to the house, I wondered why he had stuck that picture up in the kitchen… it was weird, I hadn’t seen it in years. We never had it up when I was actually living at home. This must be why. It was his way of telling me, because he knew I would remember. And in fact…”

  Leah sprang up and ran out of the bedroom, back along the hallway, to her father’s study. She heard Toran following her. She sat down at her father’s desk and pulled his diary towards her. It was open to the previous week. She ran her finger along to Thursday. In her father’s dark, slanting handwriting were the words “Zoo Patrons AGM” in the time slot for 9 a.m.

  “He was a Zoo Patron,” Leah explained. “It’s something he’d been for years. He must have had a meeting there the morning after the murder—which is probably what gave him the idea. It would have been simple for him to slip away and hide the weapon in one of the lockers. Warne’s men would never have suspected.”

  “But why not put the key somewhere special?”

  Leah shut the diary. “I guess he thought the same way you did. Poe’s trick. Hiding in plain sight. What safer place for a special key than on a big ring with a bunch of other keys?”

  “How do you know Warne’s men haven’t been out to the zoo already?” asked Toran.

  “I don’t,” Leah admitted. “But I’m willing to bet anything you like that they haven’t. The key doesn’t have any identifying logos. It’s just a small, plain key with a number. They might know that there’s a key that’s important on that ring, but I’ll bet they have no idea which one it is or what it opens. It’s just not the first place you’d think of to store something secret, is it—the public lockers at the zoo?”

  Toran shook his head. “It sounds so crazy that you might just be right.” He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair again. It was now looking like an unruly mess, reminding Leah of the way it used to look when they were at school. He gave her a lopsided smile. “This is great, but couldn’t you have worked this all out a little later?”

  Leah flushed, remembering what they had been doing in her bedroom. Her body still tingled with desire yet the whole thing felt a bit scandalous now, although she didn’t know why. Maybe because her bedroom had been the place for so many of her innocent, girlish dreams and what she had felt in there with Toran just now was neither innocent nor girlish.

  Leah looked at the man in front of her. In some ways, so much the boy she used to love, and in some ways, a complete stranger. A dark, enigmatic, exciting stranger. She searched his eyes, wondering what he had been thinking when he kissed her. Well, okay, she knew what part of him had been thinking. She had been more than aware of how much he had wanted her. But was that all it was?

  Toran looked away. The moment was broken. He glanced at his watch and said, “Well, the zoo will be shut now. So we should go to Orchard Towers first and try to find the murdered ladyboy’s friend.”

  Shutting her father’s diary, Leah got up and followed him, forcing her mind away from what could have happened in her bedroom if they hadn’t been interrupted.

  Going
back to Orchard Road felt surreal. Had it only been yesterday morning when she had been walking down the wide pavement, admiring the things on sale in shop windows? Leah looked at the familiar malls she had walked past and wondered if all those tourists and shoppers happily wandering about had any idea of the dark undercurrents around them.

  Orchard Towers was an innocuous, rather bland-looking shopping centre at the top end of Orchard Road. If it wasn’t for the garish red neon signs flashing from the second-floor windows and the cluster of scantily clad girls hanging around on the pavement outside, you would have hardly thought that it could be a den of sex. She scanned the faces of the girls outside carefully and saw Toran doing the same, but they found no one resembling the ladyboy in the video.

  Toran went confidently up the front steps into the shopping centre and Leah hurriedly followed. Inside, the shopping centre had the ubiquitous atrium with escalators winding upwards and Leah could see signs for innocent businesses like electronic stores and tailor shops. But they were all shut up now and the shop fronts that stood out with bright neon lights and suggestive images were the sex shops and Thai massage parlours and, of course, the various bars and nightclubs.

  They wandered into one bar after another, checking out the crowds. It was hard to see through the crush of bodies in the dim lighting and Leah found the loud, throbbing music and the aggressive, sexual atmosphere slightly intimidating. She was also taken aback at how difficult it was to tell the ladyboys from the normal “ladies of the night”. Somehow, she had naively expected to be able to pick up something—some suggestion of masculinity, perhaps—in the lines of the face or body, but she soon discovered that it was impossible to tell. In fact, the more beautiful and feminine a woman looked and the more perfect her figure, the more likely she was to be a ladyboy.

  At the third club they entered, Toran fought his way over to the bar, ordered two drinks, and struck up conversation with the barman, a hunky Australian with tattoos snaking down his arms. Toran showed him the printout from the computer.

  “Yeah, I know her, mate,” said the barman. “Name’s Pranee. And this here’s her friend, Sumalee.” He made a face. “Bad business about Sumalee. Found in the river.”

  “Any ideas what happened to her?” Toran asked, shouting above the pounding music.

  The barman’s face closed. “No idea, mate. Round here, you learn not to ask too many questions.”

  “What about the friend, Pranee? Do you know where I can find her?” asked Toran. “I really need to speak to her.”

  “She’s usually here around this time,” said the barman. “But I haven’t seen her in the last couple of days. You could try The Naughty Minx on the top floor. Not as busy as down here—not so much traffic—so most of the girls prefer hanging out here on the lower floors. But I know Pranee goes there sometimes.”

  Toran nodded his thanks and they pushed their way out of the club again. Outside, Leah breathed a sigh of relief as the club doors shut behind them and blocked out the pounding music. She could hear herself think again.

  “Do you think Warne’s men might have got to her?” asked Leah. “If no one has seen her for a few days—”

  “No,” said Toran. “I don’t think Warne got a chance to view the footage so he wouldn’t have necessarily seen Sumalee’s friend with her on video. He gave the evidence straight to your father and just assumed that it would be destroyed. Pranee might just be keeping a low profile. You heard the barman—everyone knows about Sumalee’s body ending up in the river. That might be enough to scare Pranee into lying low for a while.” He looked up at the ascending floors in the atrium. “But a working girl still has to work—so I’m hoping that she might be in the quieter bar.”

  The Naughty Minx had a very different atmosphere to the clubs downstairs. Quieter music, less raucous laughter, fewer girls hanging around the bar. Leah was about to walk up to the bar counter when she noticed that Toran had stopped in his tracks.

  “Over there.” He nodded, his eyes riveted to a table in the corner.

  Leah followed his gaze. Sitting by herself, looking bored and sulky, was a beautiful Asian woman. She was wearing a tight top and a mini-skirt that left very little to the imagination, and she had her legs crossed, swinging one bare leg up and down, dangling the platform stilettos from her toes. Even in the dim light of the club, Leah recognised the face from the video clips. It was the dead ladyboy’s friend, Pranee.

  CHAPTER 23

  “Leah…” Toran hesitated. “I think it might be better if I go speak to her alone. They can be suspicious of other women. She might open up more if she’s speaking to a man.”

  “Especially a very attractive man,” said Leah with a teasing smile. “Okay, no problems. I’ll just wait for you over there.” She indicated an empty sofa seat by the club entrance.

  “I hate to leave you alone, though,” said Toran, looking doubtfully around.

  “Stop worrying, Toran,” laughed Leah. “You can’t protect me all the time, you know. And besides, I can look after myself. I have spent the last twelve years of my life without you watching over me and I’ve been fine. Go on. The quicker you speak to her, the quicker we can get out of here. I’m beginning to feel like I need a shower again,” she said with a mock shudder.

  Toran nodded and was gone. Leah watched him make his way to the table in the corner. She saw Pranee’s eyes light up as Toran approached her and smiled to herself. Somehow, she was sure that Toran’s dark good looks and easy charm would convince the ladyboy if nothing else would.

  Leah wandered over to the sofa seat by the entrance and sat down. She tried not to watch Toran and Pranee too obviously, but she couldn’t help sneaking glances every so often. Toran was leaning forwards in his chair, his tall frame relaxed, his lips curved in a reassuring smile, but the ladyboy’s body language had changed from inviting to defensive. She sat back in her seat, her arms wrapped around herself, her face stiff as she listened to Toran speak. Leah’s heart sank. Would Pranee help them? She saw the ladyboy glance across the room at her, suspicion in her eyes, and Leah quickly looked away.

  Worried about scaring Pranee off, Leah resolutely turned around to face the other way, scanning the other side of the club instead. After a few minutes, Leah wished she had bought a drink—something to occupy her or at least to give the illusion of occupying her. She was becoming uncomfortably aware of several men nearby eyeing her with interest. One bearded man in particular was staring at her in a way that made her skin crawl.

  She hadn’t given much thought to what she was wearing, but now Leah regretted not rummaging through her old wardrobe at the villa earlier for a change of clothing, instead of still wearing her outfit from yesterday. The top and shorts—while nowhere near as skimpy as the outfits worn by the prostitutes—still showed too much flesh for her comfort. It wouldn’t have mattered out on the streets in the daytime—women in Singapore dressed fairly boldly—but in here, it was like waving a red flag.

  The bearded man got up and sauntered up to her. “How much?” He leered.

  “What?” Leah stared at him. “No! You’re making a mistake.”

  “No mistake,” he grinned. “I like Russian girls.”

  “I’m not Russian,” snapped Leah. “And anyway, not every Russian girl is a prostitute, you know.”

  The man seemed unperturbed. Maybe he didn’t understand or maybe he just didn’t care. He grinned again and reached out a hand to stroke Leah’s bare thigh.

  “Hey!” Leah jumped up, furious. She raised her hand to slap him in the face, but someone else got there before her. It was Toran, looking angrier than Leah had yet seen him. His hands whipped up and spun the bearded man around, twisting the man’s arm behind his back.

  “Keep your hands to yourself,” Toran said with soft menace. Then he released him and the bearded man staggered back, his face red. It was obvious that his pride had been hurt more than anything else. He started to say something, then he caught sight of Toran’s face. Whatever he saw in the
re made him think twice. Adjusting his clothes, he went off in a huff.

  “Are you all right?” asked Toran.

  “Fine,” said Leah, a bit breathlessly. “He wasn’t really doing anything, you know. I could have handled him.”

  Toran gave her a look.

  “I could,” insisted Leah, feeling slightly annoyed. “We’re not in Sixth Grade anymore and that isn’t Eric Hu pulling up my skirt. I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”

  “I’ll remember that the next time another man’s groping you,” said Toran dryly.

  Leah cleared her throat. “So did you get anything out of Pranee?” She glanced across the room. The table in the corner was now empty.

  Toran nodded and took her elbow. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Outside Orchard Towers, they turned down the quieter side street of Claymore Road and walked rapidly in silence for a while. Finally Toran slowed and stopped under a darkened shop awning.

  He turned to Leah. “Pranee took some convincing. She’s been terrified since she found out what happened to her friend. She thought Warne’s men would come after her too. But she feels better now that she knows Warne never saw the footage and doesn’t realise that she was involved. She’s agreed to testify on the condition that she can be protected from him.”

  Leah smiled with delight. “But… that’s great!” She looked at Toran. “You don’t seem very happy.”

  He made a sound of frustration. “It’s still not enough. We need the murder weapon. We need to go to the zoo and break open that locker—”

  Leah frowned. “The only thing is, we don’t know which one it is. There are hundreds of lockers. You would need the key with the number on it to know which one my father put the dagger in. We can’t stand there and start trying to break into each and every one. And if we draw too much attention to ourselves, we’d alert Warne’s men too, which is the last thing we need.” Leah looked up. “What we need is that bunch of keys they took from my father’s safe—”