Thunder in the Night (Crimson Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

you written your first blog entry yet?” he asked me, lifting his coffee cup and sipping.
    “Yes, as a matter of fact.” I looked up. “Pretty straightforward. Who’s here and where we went.”
    Spearing a piece of melon before answering he said, “You have to start somewhere.”
    I didn’t answer, concentrating on pouring syrup over my pancakes.
    Setting aside his papers, he propped his chin in his hands. “I just wish this trip emphasized the need for people to take action before the habitat is destroyed and the animals are gone. But it’s more of a see-it-quick-before-it-disappears sort of thing. Like a tourist attraction, or a wonder spot, you know? I just hope this sort of trip doesn’t do more harm than good.”
    “What?” My hand stopped. My fork hovered over my plate, dripping syrup. “According to the literature, this trek is supposed to promote understanding of and concern for the rain forest.”
    Mart sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. “The rain forest doesn’t need tourists any more than Antarctica does. I can understand that that’s sometimes the only way to get people to care, but I’ll always say it’s the wrong way.”
    My eyebrows drew together as I frowned, pondering his words. “Then what are you doing here?” I asked bluntly.
    “It’s my job,” he stated. “And I live in hope.” Leaning one elbow on the table in a casual manner, he went on. “Hope that it’s not too late for the forest. Hope that attitudes about zoos will change. Evolve.”
    “You’ll have to forgive me, Mart. Zoos aren’t my regular beat. I didn’t know there was so much to ponder about them.”
    “Tell me about your regular territory,” he said.
    “I’ve been covering all sorts of topics — from club functions to charity events to a couple of really boring committee meetings. But what I really want to do is investigative reporting.” I set down my fork and let my mind conjure up a vision of what I hoped the future might be.
    “Like Woodward and Bernstein?”
    “Exactly!”
    “That sounds like a tall order to fill from Rochester,” he said.
    “But you have to have goals. They’re what I keep in mind on the days I cover humdrum stories, you know?”
    He nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
    He went back to shuffling papers around as I finished my pancakes and I assumed our conversation was over. When I pulled my cereal bowl closer, however, he spoke up.
    “Be sure you try some of the local cuisine as long as you’re here. Take a flavor break.” He surveyed my bland-looking bowl of cornflakes. Obviously, he was of the when-in-Rome school of thought.
    I poured my grapefruit juice over the cereal. “Yes, but it’s familiar and I like it.”
    “You put juice on your cereal!” Mart leaned forward. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that done before.”
    “You should try it sometime. It’s wonderful,” I assured him, lifting a heaping spoonful of flakes. They were light and crunchy in my mouth and the juice gave them a tangy, citrus flavor that always reminded me of summer.
    I’d dressed for summer as well, pulling my hair back and braiding it so it hung just past my shoulders. According to the guidebooks, the temperature would be well over eighty degrees, so I wore loose-fitting khaki walking shorts and a light, airy shirt with an apricot tank underneath. I knew the colors went well with my fair skin and the blue of my eyes. In my backpack I carried sunglasses, a baseball cap with an oversized bill, tanning lotion, and enough bug spray to stop a cloud of locusts. Be prepared, that’s what I always say.
    Mart had bent his head, returning to his papers, whatever they were. I munched through my cereal, watching him concentrate.
    “Will you be giving us a presentation on Tikal?” I gestured to his papers.
    Mart tilted the papers away from me, so I couldn’t see any of the writing and tidied them into a stack. “No, no. This is just some personal research.” He rolled the papers into a tube