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

by H. Y. Hanna

  “No, I don’t know!” said Leah impatiently. “Everyone keeps assuming that I know things and yet nobody tells me anything! I always thought that my father overreacted about Toran—we were only teenagers and it was really just a schoolgirl crush—but he acted like I was dating an axe murderer. I could never understand it. I always thought that he was just being overprotective… but now are you telling me that it was something else?”

  Ah Song fiddled with a stapler on his desk, not meeting her eyes. “It is long time ago, Missy Leah,” he said. “Why open the story again now? Already everybody die. Better just to leave in peace. You are with Mr Toran now; you are happy—”

  “But we are not happy,” said Leah. “Or at least, we can’t be happy with all these secrets still hanging over us! I need to know why, Ah Song. Please… tell me why my father hated Toran so much.”

  Ah Song sighed. “Because of his mother.”

  “His mother?” Leah was puzzled.

  “She was a nurse. She was in the hospital with your mother and she always make your mother feel bad. Because of baby feeding, you know.” Ah Song looked slightly embarrassed, like most men of his generation, to be discussing “female” things.

  Leah drew back in her chair. She remembered Rose Pritchard’s words about the nurse on the ward who had championed breastfeeding and bullied her mother mercilessly. Had that been Toran’s mother? She groped back through her memory. Now that she thought about it, she remembered Toran telling her that his mother was a nurse, but they had never really talked much about her. Leah had only seen her once or twice, when Toran’s parents had come to the school. She remembered a capable, kindly-looking woman. She couldn’t believe now that that woman was the same person who had destroyed her own mother’s mind.

  “No…” she said faintly.

  Ah Song nodded sadly. “Yes, that is why your father so angry. He say it is all her fault. If she don’t attack your mother then maybe your mother don’t feel so bad and then maybe she don’t kill herself.” He sighed again. “Life is very cruel luck, you know. Your father leave England and come to Singapore to start new life—then he find that Mr Toran’s parents come also!”

  “And then Toran gets a scholarship at the same school as me…” said Leah slowly.

  “Yes!” Ah Song bobbed his head. “Then your father see that you love Mr Toran. It is like his nightmare, huh? He cannot see you together with son of the woman who destroy all his happiness.”

  “But why didn’t he just explain things to me?” asked Leah.

  “How?” said Ah Song. “Cannot, because he always tell you mother die when you are born, right? He lie to you to protect you, because doesn’t want to give you guilt and pain like him. So now cannot tell you the truth—but also cannot see you together with Mr Toran.”

  “But Toran was innocent,” said Leah. “He had no idea… I had no idea… we had nothing to do with our parents’ actions.”

  “Difficult for your father to think this way,” said Ah Song, shaking his head. “Especially when he see Mr Toran family together: father and mother with son—so happy. He is so angry—he think she steal family from him, then she enjoy family herself. Then five years ago, your father see on TV that Mr Toran’s mother is receiving special achievement award. For good nursing work. And the TV showing her get award and taking photo with family, all smiling… That night, your father drink until he cannot stand up. Also that night when he—” He stopped suddenly and clamped his lips shut.

  “When he what?” asked Leah tensely.

  Ah Song shook his head and stood up. “Nothing, Missy Leah. All already dead now. Not good asking more. Very wrong and no respect.”

  “But—”

  He shook his head again. It was obvious that he was not going to say anything else on the subject. His dark eyes implored Leah not to keep asking and she felt slightly ashamed at badgering this old man.

  “Okay, well… thank you, Ah Song, for telling me,” said Leah, rising as well.

  Ah Song came around his desk and reached out to clasp her hands in his. “Please, Missy Leah,” he said desperately. “Enough you know now. Don’t ask more. Cannot make the dead come back and…” Something flickered in his black eyes. “Bad luck to keep asking. Bad thing happen to you.”

  Leah sighed. Even if she had wanted to stop raking up the past, she knew that Toran would never rest now until he had avenged his parents’ deaths. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice every time he talked about the accident.

  “I’ll try to do what I think is best,” she said at last. “But I can’t promise that—”

  The shrill ringing of her mobile interrupted them. Giving Ah Song an apologetic look, Leah fished in her handbag and pulled out the phone. Toran’s name flashed on the screen. She answered it, wondering why he was calling her when they were going to meet up soon at the apartment anyway.

  “Leah? I think we’ve found it.”

  “The Ru-Yi?” said Leah, her pulse quickening. She saw Ah Song look at her sharply, obviously picking up on the excitement in her voice.

  “Well, Beng’s bag of lucky talismans, at any rate.” He told her about his talk with the old fisherman, including the “fishing uncle” and his shop.

  “I know that address—that’s just round the corner from here,” said Leah excitedly. “Listen, why don’t I go first and try to get hold of the bag? You’ve still got to drive back from Yishun and there might be bad traffic at this hour. I can get there before the shop closes.”

  She hung up and turned eagerly to Ah Song. “Do you think I can get one of your taxis immediately?”

  “Of course, Missy Leah. I told you—you are VIP passenger. I will call my best car for you.” Ah Song hurried to the phone on his desk. “Car is waiting downstairs,” he said, putting the phone down a minute later. He hesitated. “You hear good news from Mr Toran?”

  “Yes,” said Leah. “I think we’ve found the thing that will lead us to the driver of the car. If we can find him and speak to him, then we’ll be able to find out the truth behind the whole thing; who was responsible for Toran’s parents’ deaths and—” She broke off as she saw Ah Song’s distress.

  He was shaking his head violently. “No, no, Missy Leah! You don’t go!”

  She reached and clasped the old man’s hand. “We have to know, Ah Song. We can’t just leave things as they are.”

  He clutched her hands. “Maybe you find something you don’t want to know.”

  Leah swallowed hard. She knew what he was saying. If her father had blamed Toran’s mother for his wife’s anguish and subsequent suicide, it would have given him the perfect motive for wanting her dead. And from what Ah Song had said—seeing Toran’s mother receive an award that seemed to make a mockery of his pain and suffering could have easily tipped David Fisher over the edge. Was that the night he had contacted Black Buddha and made a deal that he later regretted?

  Did she really want to find out?

  A part of her still clung to her belief that her father was fundamentally good. Finding out the truth could destroy that forever.

  “The truth is going to come out now whether I want to accept it or not,” said Leah at last. “And this ‘not knowing’ is eating me up inside. I think I just want peace now… so I can move on with my life.”

  Ah Song sighed deeply and nodded. Leah turned to go but she couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease as she saw the look of sadness in Ah Song’s eyes as he watched her leave.

  CHAPTER 27

  It was a short taxi ride to the fishing store, which was located in a small local shopping centre. Leah asked the driver to wait for her and hurried inside. The shop was on the ground floor, tucked away around the back, behind a sushi restaurant. It was almost closing time and there were only a couple of customers in the store: fishermen keen to pick up a few last-minute supplies before heading out for the night. Leah pretended to browse through the shelves of artificial lures and baits until she saw the other customers leave from the corner of her
eye, then she made her way over to the counter.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  This must be the “fishing uncle”, thought Leah. He was a thin, wiry man of perhaps fifty, with a tanned, weather-beaten face and a nautical tattoo on one arm. Leah eyed it in some surprise. It was rare to see an Asian person with a tattoo, especially in Singapore where they were still very much socially taboo and mostly associated with street gangs and criminals.

  Leah took a deep breath, gave him her best smile, and plunged into it. “I’m… uh… a friend of Beng Chew Hoon’s—” She saw him draw a sharp breath as he heard the name, but she rushed on. “He’s got something that belongs to me and I’d like to get it back. I think he keeps it with his fishing stuff. Have you got any of his things here? Maybe I can have a look…?”

  It was a ludicrous request and she had expected him to be suspicious and reject her outright, but to her surprise, he nodded, with a look of fear on his face.

  “Okay, okay, you come take,” he said, beckoning her to step behind the counter.

  Leah watched as he bent down and rummaged underneath the counter. Finally, he stood up and gestured her to look. She crouched down and looked into the cupboard space. Shoved into the far corner was a beige canvas holdall.

  “You take it.”

  “Oh, thanks,” said Leah, still not quite able to believe how easy it had been. She pulled the holdall out from underneath the counter. There was a collapsible fishing rod alongside it as well, and she brought both items out.

  She unzipped the holdall and peered inside. A strong, fishy odour rose from the inside of the bag and she had to turn her face away slightly. Then she saw it. Nestled between a couple of spools of fishing line and a box of lures was a small red pouch. Leah pulled it out eagerly. The pouch was fairly heavy for its size and she could hear the chink of the contents knocking against each other. She undid the drawstring and peered in. It looked like a collection of coin charms, metal amulets, and talismans made of various precious stones. She couldn’t see if a Ru-Yi was amongst them but she would have time to look properly later. Leah pulled the drawstring shut again and thrust the pouch into her handbag, then handed the holdall back to the “fishing uncle”.

  “No, no! You take away!” he said, waving his hand almost violently.

  “These aren’t my things,” said Leah. “I only wanted the bag—”

  “You take it,” he said, shaking his head, the whites of his eyes showing. “I don’t want trouble. Beng was killed by gangs, lah? I don’t want any connection with him.”

  “You could give this to the police—” suggested Leah.

  “I don’t talk to police.” A bitter look came over his face. “If you don’t take it, I will throw away.”

  “Why didn’t you just throw it away before?” asked Leah curiously.

  He looked a bit shamefaced. “I’m scared to touch. Belongs to a dead man, eh—died in a bad way… very bad luck, very bad luck.” He waved his hand again. “But you touch it first now. You take away.”

  So that was why he had been so happy to show her Beng’s things, no questions asked. Leah knew that many Asians were very superstitious—especially about things like “Fate” and misfortune—and for the first time, she was grateful for that.

  “Okay, I’ll take everything,” she said, picking up the holdall and holding it at arm’s length.

  Once out of sight of the store, however, she dumped the rod and holdall in one of the centre bins and hurried towards the exit. She was so excited—she wanted to call Toran this instant and tell him that she had managed to find the pouch. She groped in her handbag, feeling around for her phone, but came up empty-handed.

  Leah frowned. Then she realised that she must have left her phone in Ah Song’s office. After she had spoken to Toran, she had put her phone down on the desk while waiting for Ah Song to call a taxi. In her hurry to leave, she must have left it there. Leah cursed under her breath. Well, at least it was Ah Song’s company taxi so she was sure they wouldn’t mind stopping by the offices again to let her pick up her phone.

  When she stepped out of the centre, however, Leah was surprised to find her taxi was no longer waiting by the curb. She glanced at her watch. She had been in the centre over twenty minutes—perhaps the driver had got fed up with waiting and left? Feeling slightly guilty about the unpaid fare, Leah promised herself that she would call on Ah Song tomorrow and reimburse him. In the meantime, she spied another taxi sitting, its engine idling, beside the curb just in front of the store.

  “The Song Taxicab Enterprises offices, please,” she said as she hopped in. “And can you wait outside for a few minutes—I need to run in to pick up something, then I’ll give you a new address.”

  The man nodded and the taxi pulled away from the curb. It was an old black London taxi cab, with the high domed roof, distinctive front hood, and roomy passenger compartment divided from the front driver’s area by a partition. Leah wondered if the fare would be higher—she knew that “limo taxis” in Singapore charged a higher rate—then she decided she didn’t care. She just wanted to get home now and show Toran the pouch. She settled back into the deep upholstered seat and sighed, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders. Closing her eyes, she massaged her neck. God, she was tired! She had slept pretty well in the end, nestled in Toran’s arms last night, and woken up feeling refreshed this morning, but now she felt like she had just run a marathon. Maybe it was cumulative fatigue from the trip or a nervous release now that she had finally found the talisman…

  Leah opened her eyes, slightly puzzled. Shouldn’t they be at Ah Song’s offices by now? It was only around the corner. She sat up straighter. She suddenly realised that the taxi was driving fast, along a back road she didn’t recognise. The failing light of dusk made it hard for her to see the surroundings properly.

  “Excuse me…” She leaned forwards and rapped on the glass divider at the top of the partition. “Where are we?”

  The man made no response.

  “Hey!” Leah said, rapping harder this time. “Can you hear me? I asked to go to the Song Taxicab Enterprises offices. I think you’re going in completely the wrong direction.”

  Still he made no answer. Annoyed now, Leah tried to slide open the glass divider, but it was locked. She glanced at the meter. It was already showing a whopping fare. She had heard stories of taxis in Singapore trying to scam tourists and expats with long detours, but it had never happened to her before.

  She banged on the divider. “Look, I’ve had enough. Just stop here, okay? I’ll get another taxi. I don’t need your services anymore. Just pull over.”

  He continued driving.

  Leah felt her irritation turn to anger. This was ridiculous! Well, if he wasn’t going to stop, she would make him. She leaned towards the door and yanked the handle.

  Nothing happened.

  Leah frowned and yanked harder. Still nothing. She tugged at the handle, her heart starting to pound in frightening jerks as she realised that all her efforts were futile. Some kind of central locking—maybe a child safety lock—had been activated and there was no way to open the door from the inside. She groped for the window switches but knew that they, too, would be locked.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded, fear making her voice shrill now. She leaned forwards and banged on the glass divider again. “Let me out of the car!”

  As before, the man kept on driving, but Leah saw his eyes flick to hers in the rear-view mirror. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt a chill go down her spine. She recognised those slanting black eyes in the mirror. They belonged to the man who had followed her in London.

  CHAPTER 28

  Leah eased herself slowly back onto the passenger seat, feeling the padded cushions press into her spine with reassuring solidity. She took deep breaths, trying to calm the pounding of her heart. It’s okay, she told herself. There has to be a way to get out of the car. Stop panicking and think!

  She peered out of the windows, wondering
where they were. The sun had almost completely set now and the lights of the city were coming on. They were south of downtown, Leah decided, based on what she could see of the skyscrapers through the windows. In fact, in the gap that flashed between two buildings, she caught the distinctive silhouette of the Marina Bay Sands complex, with its elongated top platform perched like a giant cruise ship across the three slanting towers. That must mean that they couldn’t be far from Marina Bay either. Leah’s heart lifted. That was a well-touristed area with many locals and visitors milling about all the time. It meant that when the taxi slowed, she might have a good chance of attracting someone’s attention or signalling for help.

  Leah waited tensely as the taxi made a left turn. It looked like they were heading north now and she guessed that they were possibly near the Esplanade Bridge, which led onto the East Coast Parkway, an expressway covering the east coast of the island. She swallowed nervously. If they got onto that highway, her hopes of calling for help would be dashed.

  Then she heard a muffled sound come from beyond the partition—a curse in Chinese. She looked up quickly. It was the first time the driver had spoken. He had taken off the cap he was wearing, revealing his shaved head, and was now swearing angrily in Chinese. She saw the reason for his agitation through the front windscreen. A traffic policeman was standing in the middle of the road, directing the cars onto a side road. It looked like the rest of this road had been closed off and there was a detour. But Leah wasn’t thinking about that—her attention was centred on the traffic policeman, standing there in his black and white uniform.

  She flew to the side of the car that was closest to him and, as they turned in front of him, she started banging on the windows, screaming and yelling for help.

  “Ayah… may yo yong. Bu yao jiao, lah.” The driver laughed lazily.

  They swung past the traffic cop who continued waving his arms, oblivious to her cries. He didn’t even glance in her direction. Leah realised why the driver had sounded so smug. The car was obviously soundproof and with the dark interior, and policeman’s concentration on the moving stream of traffic, she had no hope of catching his attention.