Free Thunder in the Night (Crimson Romance) by Kate Fellowes

says he was involved in the drug trade? Where does Clark fit into any of this?” I fired off questions. “Do the local authorities have anything to say? They haven’t found the murderer?”
    Mart held up a hand. He answered my last question first. “It’s hardly likely they will. Criminals of the drug trade are difficult to pin down anywhere. But here, where the jungle is filled with places to hide … .” He let the sentence trail off and I nodded.
    Mart poured more water into my glass then refilled his own.
    He furrowed his brow. “As for Clark, I’ve heard he and Tommy were kind of close, although I have a hard time picturing him being close to anyone, really. Anyway, I suspect he’s trying to trace Tommy’s actions on his own.” He shook his head and sighed.
    “That doesn’t sound helpful.”
    “I think it sounds dangerous,” Mart said. “I mean, these are criminals. This lone wolf act,” he broke off to shake his head again. “I don’t know.”
    Remembering all the big plans Clark had outlined for the zoo on our way to Tikal, his larger than life persona, his air of importance, I thought I did know. “It would be great publicity for the zoo if Clark caught a murderer,” I suggested, lifting an eyebrow.
    “Next stop, his own TV show,” Mart said. “Fame and fortune.”
    “Well, it could be a motivation.”
    “It could be,” Mart granted me the point in an unconvincing way.
    “That man I saw in the jungle with Clark, he didn’t seem like a good guy to me.”
    Mart was already shaking his head. “Since you got shoved off the steps after you took his picture, I doubt he’s a good guy.”
    I said, “But I didn’t really see who bumped into me. Not in a way I could positively identify, anyhow. So, I don’t know if it was that guy.” My voice trailed off. Had it been? It could have been … or not.
    “Look, I’ve probably said too much already. And I don’t mean to scare you,” Mart said, pushing his hand through his hair. “Just … be careful. Don’t put any of your Tikal pictures up on the blog. I’m sure everyone on the trek took some shots. Borrow those. It’ll be good public relations and the thief won’t know your pictures are safe. And don’t leave the tour group or anything. Stick around others. But,” he reached out, put his hand over mine, “don’t mention any of this to them, either. No need to put a damper on their trip for no reason.”
    “You be careful, too.” I warned. “It wouldn’t look good to have two zoo assistants killed.”
    Mart gave a careful laugh. “No, that would be difficult to hide.”
    “Especially now that I’ve heard the theory.” I looked off into the distance. “Oh, what a story it could make! Just the sort of thing I’ve been waiting for, actually. Something with some teeth in it. No fluff. Nothing cute. Just a real story!”
    “Wait a minute!” Mart broke into my daydream as I’d thought he would. “You have to promise me you won’t go poking around in this. You said yourself it’s all based on speculation, anyway. Allison, please don’t write about this.” His eyes were wide with pleading. Deep horizontal lines split his brow.
    “I won’t — yet,” I conceded. “That’s not the job I was sent here to do.”
    He didn’t like my answer, I could tell.
    “Now, then,” I said, changing the subject, “I’m heading off to the marketplace in search of a smaller backpack.” I pointed at my old one, sitting on the chair beside me. “Think I’ll find one?”
    “You’ll find something to fit the bill,” he told me. “I’ll just tag along.”
    I’d been in the process of rising, gathering my pack onto my shoulder, when he made the offer. It took me by surprise. We’d been getting along so well and now he was choosing to spend time with me. I wanted to be flattered. But did he want to stay close to keep me away from trouble or keep me away from a telephone and my editor? To cover my confusion, I shrugged and looked