Thunder in the Night (Crimson Romance) by Kate Fellowes Read Free Book Online Page A

giving his head a brisk shake. “Nothing. I thought I saw someone I knew.”
    I shrugged. “Well, that could be. You said you’ve been here before.”
    “Hmm? What?” He hadn’t been listening. “Look, Allison, I’ve got to go,” he said briskly, reaching out to put his hand on my arm. “Take a good look around. Use your guidebook.” He smiled, dimples creasing his cheeks. “I’ll see you later.” With a brief squeeze to my shoulder, he loped off across the grass in the direction he’d been studying.
    I watched him leave, puzzling over his abrupt departure. He’d seen something he didn’t like. But what? None of my business, I knew, and certainly nothing to do with my magazine article. And yet, I was intrigued.
    I couldn’t very well follow him, though. He’d already disappeared across the way. Opening my guidebook, I readied my camera and began exploring.
    • • •
    A short time later, I plunked myself onto the low stone steps near an area that must have served as an arena. It felt good to sit down, even if it was in the sun.
    “Heat getting to you?” Dan Underwood asked, climbing slowly up to flop down nearby. He lifted his hat, swabbed his brow with a handkerchief and sighed. His face was red and glowing with the beginning of sunburn.
    “It’s warm, all right,” I agreed. “Where’s Elaine?”
    Dan pointed a chubby finger at the Temple of the Giant Jaguar. “Climbing.”
    “All the way up?” I was astounded. It seemed like quite a feat for the tiny little woman to attempt.
    “Oh, yes. She’s a heck of a gal. A real adventurer. You gonna try?”
    I hadn’t planned on it. It was so high, the steps were so narrow.
    “Maybe,” I said, surprising myself. I looked at the temple, at all the others scrambling up and down. “Probably.”
    “Well, good luck.” He leaned back against the next step. “If you see Elaine, tell her where to find me.”
    “Okay.” I hitched my pack firmly onto my shoulder.
    Setting off toward the temple at a leisurely rate, I realized I was not very far from where Mart had headed. My steps paused then stopped, and I considered the jungle just beyond. What had he seen? Who? I hadn’t encountered Mart since he’d walked off. Hadn’t noticed him milling around the area either.
    Looking both ways, as if someone would see me veering off and call me back, I moved into the forest.

Chapter Seven
    There was no clearly etched path here. The ground was covered with plants and fallen greenery, which ants would scavenge. Far from silent, the forest seemed still as I crept along. Feeling foolish, I glanced at my watch. Five minutes. If I didn’t see someone or something in five minutes, I’d head right back.
    I didn’t have to wait that long.
    Surrounded by the sounds of nature, the sounds of man stood out, ringing through the air like an alarm. I heard the jangle of keys or something metallic and the unmistakable sound of laughter.
    A huge tree with buttressed roots was just in front of me and I slipped behind it, resting my palms against its trunk. It was difficult to see through the dense foliage, but some judicious bobbing and weaving brought my quarry into view.
    Standing about twenty feet in front of me were Clark Webster and a man I’d never seen before. A native of the country, that man wore traditional Guatemalan dress — bright colors rivaling the plumage of the birds I’d seen earlier. Clark was smiling and nodding, clapping the other man on the shoulder with enthusiasm.
    “It went well, then?” he asked and again I caught that slight accent in his voice.
    “Yes. It is done.”
    “Good, good. And next week?”
    “We are ready.” The Guatemalan’s English was accented, too.
    Slowly, silently, I raised my camera from where it hung around my neck. My hands shook as I lifted it into position. I had no idea what I was witnessing. I only knew I wanted to capture it.
    Just as the shutter clicked, my pack slipped off my shoulder, smacking against the tree