Secret Hideaway

by Carla Neggers

  He turned onto a quiet, shaded road that led onto the Skidmore campus. When he parked at the lecture hall, he reminded himself why he was here. It wasn’t to repair his relationship with Ellen. The truth was, their relationship didn’t need repairing. It was moving to the next level and she was tackling that reality. It was eating at her to admit he violated every preconceived notion she’d had about the man she would fall for, but that wasn’t his problem, at least not right now. His problem was whatever was going on with Maggie. Two nights ago, she’d rushed into the bar where he’d been having a beer with his buddies, stammered something about needing to talk to him, then rushed out again. He’d found her outside her apartment yesterday morning, throwing her suitcase into a cab, on her way to the airport for her flight up here.

  Nothing’s wrong, she’d told him. I’m sorry if I worried you.

  You’re the one who looked worried, Maggie.

  Mad. I looked mad, because I was mad.

  Mad at what—or who?

  Nothing I want to talk about now.

  He hadn’t argued with her, but he stood by his assessment. She’d looked worried in the bar, and she’d looked worried as she climbed into her cab.

  But she’d given him a half-hearted smile. It’s okay, Luke. I’m not mad about anything that would involve you as a Ranger. Nothing law enforcement related.

  Not Jane Austen related, I hope.

  He’d earned a small laugh for that remark, but as the cab had pulled away, he’d felt uneasy. He’d gone so far as to consider calling her father, but he’d reined himself in. If Maggie Galway wanted to tell her father what was bothering her, she could do it herself. She didn’t need Luke meddling in her business. Neither did her father.

  Good way to get them both irritated at him.

  Sometimes the best course of action was to mind his own damn business.

  “So why are you in Saratoga Springs?” he muttered to himself as he entered the lecture hall.

  He knew the answer. Because on top of that encounter with Maggie, he’d discovered Ellen was heading up here at the last minute, and not just to give her sister moral support for an academic talk on Jane Austen.

  Ellen had found him at work late yesterday, easing up to his desk while he was typing a routine report. She’d asked him what Maggie had wanted with him. By then, Maggie was in Saratoga. At first, Luke had assumed Ellen was concerned her sister had come to see him about their relationship. Then he’d realized she was deeply worried about Maggie. The twin radar, the Galway radar, the prosecutor radar. They all were going nuts, beeping alarms.

  Are you sure what’s bugging Maggie isn’t a law enforcement matter?

  Luke had shrugged. That’s what she said.

  Ellen had shoved a hand through her hair, pacing. Never mind. Sorry to bother you.

  I can get out of here and we can go have a drink somewhere.

  No. Thanks. Sorry. I have to go.

  That was when Luke had decided to find Sam Temple. Now the father of two small boys, Sam was a dedicated law enforcement officer and a devoted father and husband. He’d fought a few demons, but he was one of the strongest men Luke knew. Luke had laid out his two recent encounters with Maggie Galway.

  Sam had looked straight through him. What are you doing, Luke?

  What do you mean?

  Damn. Are you sleeping with Maggie?

  No! Luke hadn’t meant to react with such force, but he couldn’t help himself. Maggie? He’d quickly settled himself down. Wow. Hell. No, I am not sleeping with Maggie.

  The dark Temple eyes—the stare that could stop criminals in their tracks—didn’t let up. Finally Sam had sighed. Ellen. You’re sleeping with Ellen Galway.

  At that moment, Luke had realized Sam Temple had just lured him, hooked him and nailed him. The only way out was the truth. Not anymore. It was a mistake. It won’t be repeated. I’m not asking you not to tell her father.

  But I’m not going to, and neither are you. Some things are between a father and daughter. Hell, Luke, what were you thinking?

  Who’d been thinking?

  Sam had promised he would keep an eye and ear out for anything involving the Galway sisters. He had no specific reason for concern, but when Luke had said he wanted to take a couple of days off and fly up to New York, their uncle hadn’t raised any objections.

  ***

  Luke entered the lecture hall, already darkened for Maggie’s talk. It had stadium seating with a capacity of about a hundred-fifty. He estimated the hall was about half filled with students, professors and members of the public. Not bad for a midday talk on Jane Austen. He sat in the back row, on the right-hand aisle. He’d left his hat in the car. No point drawing attention to himself.

  He could see Ellen down in front, in the center of the second row.

  A middle-aged woman had finished introducing Maggie, who approached the podium with a grace and confidence at odds with her agitation the last two times Luke had seen her. She had slides and video to accompany her talk. The visuals helped him pay attention. Not that he took in what she had to say. He wasn’t attending the lecture to learn about Jane Austen. He was here to observe Maggie’s behavior.

  And Ellen’s, too, he supposed. Thick as thieves those two were.

  Maggie was clearly into her topic. She was vibrant and energetic and engaged her audience with her arguments, anecdotes and general passion for her subject. Watching her, Luke couldn’t tell anything was wrong with her. He slouched in his chair, considering the possibility he had wasted his time flying north. Maybe he could get a flight back to Austin tonight. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with where he slept.

  When Maggie finished, the audience erupted into applause. She thanked them and said she’d see everyone at the reception afterward, then disappeared through a door behind the podium.

  Luke yawned—he felt rude but was sure no one saw him—and got up, waiting at the exit as attendees filed past him. Ellen didn’t head his way. Instead she walked up onto the small stage and went through the same door her sister had.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing he hadn’t thought past getting through the actual talk. Now what? Make an appearance at the reception?

  Probably a good idea. He hoped the food was good, at least.

  He followed a group of undergraduates down a corridor, assuming they were headed to the reception. As they turned into a wide doorway to the right, Luke’s phone vibrated. He checked the screen, saw it was Sam Temple on the other end and answered. “What’s up?”

  “Hugh Parker is up there.”

  Luke slowed his pace. Back in January, Hugh Parker had expressed his anger to Ellen Galway for prosecuting his brother for assault. He’d come up to the line and put his toe on it, but he hadn’t crossed it into illegal harassment.

  “Where?” Luke asked.

  “Albany. Thirty miles south of Saratoga.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s staying with a friend. This is according to his brother.”

  Now serving his sentence in prison. “Has he had any contact with Ellen or Maggie?”

  “Not that we know of,” Sam said.

  “When did Parker leave Texas?”

  “Six weeks ago. Maggie’s talk in Saratoga Springs was already in the works. She announced it on her social media platforms. It’s not a secret. Parker could have found out easily enough.”

  Luke nodded as if Sam Temple were about to enter the reception with him. “Okay. I’ll stick close to Maggie and Ellen. If Parker has made contact, I’ll find out.”

  “Do that. Keep me posted.”

  Luke thanked him for the call and disconnected.

  Hugh Parker? Were he and Sam grasping at straws? So what if Parker was staying with a friend in Albany? It proved nothing—unless he was at Maggie’s talk and reception, stalking her, harassing her. Luke scanned the people at the hors d’oeuvres table and drinks table, but he didn’t see anyone who looked out of place.

  He called Sam back. “Do we have a phot
o of Hugh Parker?”

  “We must. I’ll get it to you.”

  “Thanks,” Luke said, then entered the reception room, searching for the Galway twins.

  3

  Ellen approached her sister, chatting casually with two middle-aged women in the corner past the drinks table. Mini Diet Coke in hand, Maggie looked excited and relieved to have her talk behind her. For someone as reserved as she was, standing in front of dozens of people—students, professors, the public—drained her, as much as she loved sharing her knowledge. She also understood that events such as today’s talk would help advance her career. The yin-and-yang of being an academic, she’d explained once to Ellen.

  She broke away from her colleagues and joined Ellen. “You were fantastic, Maggie,” Ellen said with genuine enthusiasm. “You were smart, funny, insightful. I thought I knew Jane Austen, but—amazing. Great job.”

  “Thanks.” Maggie leaned in close to her sister. “Ellen…did you see him?”

  “See who?”

  “Luke Jackson is here.”

  “In Saratoga. Yes, I know, Maggie. I saw him a few minutes before you met me in the hotel lobby. I didn’t want to distract you by telling you. He’s waiting for me in my room.” She felt blood rush to her face. “Don’t read anything into that. He’s meeting us for champagne.”

  Maggie shook her head. “No, I mean he’s here. He came in a few minutes late and sat at the back of the lecture hall.”

  Ellen sighed, not surprised. “The man doesn’t do as he’s told,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was in Saratoga? You don’t look happy about having him up here. I thought you two were doing well together.”

  “We were. Now we’re not. I didn’t say anything because you obviously have enough on your mind.”

  “He came all the way up here for a reason. Ellen. Don’t be dense. He’s here for you.”

  “No, he’s not, Maggie,” Ellen said. “He’s here because he’s worried about you. So am I.”

  Maggie waved a hand. “I’m sorry I worried you. It was all pre-talk jitters. I’ve figured out I tend to create drama ahead of a big presentation. It must be an outlet for my nervousness. I look for big rocks to turn over and I always expect nasty things will squirm out from under them. I’m sure that’s what you and Luke have picked up on. Look, you and Luke—”

  “There is no ‘you and Luke.’ There’s Luke. There’s me. That’s the beginning, middle and end of that story. I’m not here because of Luke and Luke isn’t here because of me.”

  “If you say so.” Maggie glanced at the table. “I couldn’t eat a thing right now.” She smiled, turning back to Ellen. “I’m so glad you were here for my talk. Seeing Luke in the back of the lecture hall didn’t throw me. He was trying to keep a low profile, but he came in late and—well, he’s tough to miss. There are a few men here but he gives off that Texas Ranger vibe. For a second I thought it was Dad or Sam. Don’t tell Luke that.”

  Ellen laughed, ignoring her uneasiness. “I won’t. Have you talked to anyone, Maggie? Dad, Mom, Aunt Kara, Sam—“

  “About Jane Austen?”

  “About what squirmed out from under your rocks.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. There’s nothing nasty squirming around in my life, except the introduction to my dissertation. I’m stuck. I keep thinking about it. Classic paralysis of analysis.”

  “Maggie…”

  “A professor couple I know have invited me to stay at their cabin while I’m up here. It’s on a small lake near Lake George. They don't go up there much this time of year. I’ll have a few days on my own to decompress and do some work.”

  “Don’t you have to be back at the college?”

  “Not until late next week.”

  Ellen frowned. “How well do you know these people?”

  “Well enough. It’ll be great. I’ll sit in a cabin in the mountains and do nothing for five days but read, sleep and look out at the scenery. My friends have been where I am right now—stressed out, lost in the weeds, saying yes to too many things. I’m thinking of it as my Adirondack mini retreat.”

  “Is this couple here?”

  “Somewhere. They were at my talk. They stayed with me when they were in Austin for a conference last year. You didn’t meet them. Relax, Ellen. I might not be a cynical Texas Ranger or a suspicious prosecutor, but I’m not a pushover, either.”

  “All right,” Ellen said. “I see your point.”

  Maggie smiled. “I knew you would, and I appreciate your concern. Luke stirs you up. It’s no wonder you’re on edge and reactive. Maybe you’re turning over a few big rocks yourself and just don’t realize it.”

  As if to prove her point, Luke joined them and Ellen’s heart jumped. She was positive her twin sister knew it. He kissed Maggie on the cheek. “Good job, Maggie.” He smiled that deadly smile of him. “Just don’t quiz me.”

  Maggie’s laughter didn’t reach her dark eyes. Ellen gritted her teeth. Whatever was bothering her sister was still an issue, and it wasn’t just pre-talk jitters and drama creating. But Maggie smiled, smooth and gracious. “Can you two excuse me? I need to run to the ladies’ room. Help yourselves to drinks and hors d’oeuvres. I’ll be right back.”

  What could they say? Ellen resisted the urge to tell Maggie she’d go to the restroom with her. As Maggie disappeared through a corner door, Luke shook his head. “She’s not herself.”

  “You walking in here looking as if you’re about to make an arrest doesn’t help.”

  “When did you last hear from Hugh Parker?”

  Ellen gaped at him. “Parker—what are you talking about?”

  “He’s in Albany.”

  “That’s not the same as being here, and unless he contacts me—”

  “Has he?”

  “No.”

  “What about Maggie?”

  Ellen considered his question. “I’m sure she’d have told me.”

  “How much does this guy hate you?”

  “A lot, but it comes with the territory as a prosecutor, even a junior prosecutor. You get some who don’t take our role personally and realize we’re doing our jobs, and you get some who want to mop the floor with us. You know how it is.”

  “I like my role in enforcing the law,” Luke said in that subtle-yet-not-subtle way he had.

  “I bet you do,” Ellen said. “I can’t see anyone mopping the floor with you.”

  He winked. “That’s good.”

  He grabbed a small plate and helped himself to cubes of cheese and sliced fruit from a tray on the table. He offered Ellen some, but she shook her head. She wasn’t hungry. She was still thrown off by his presence and Maggie’s retreat. Her sister’s emotions seemed downright erratic, especially for someone who usually kept her emotions hidden even from those closest to her. Now they seemed all over the place.

  Luke tackled his plate of fruit and cheese. He didn’t appear to have any trouble eating, but Ellen knew he was watching her, studying her—deliberately creating a void of silence. If she was hiding anything, he meant to find out. That was the clear message she got from him.

  Either that, or he was just enjoying the reception.

  An attractive, well-dressed older woman approached them and introduced herself as the wife of the couple who owned the cabin Maggie was borrowing for a few days. She handed Ellen a folded piece of notebook paper. “Maggie asked me to give this to you.”

  Ellen felt Luke go on alert, straightening as he set his plate on a side table and stood close to her. “Where is Maggie now?” she asked.

  “I saw her heading out. I assumed she wasn’t feeling well.”

  Her hands shaking, Ellen unfolded the paper, which looked as if it had been torn out of one of her sister’s ubiquitous Moleskine notebooks. She half expected Luke to read it over her shoulder, but he gave her enough space—barely—to read the note on her own.

  Dear Maggie,

  I decided to leave for the cabin ea
rly. I thought this might happen once I finished my talk. I got a late checkout at the hotel and put my bag in the trunk before we met in the lobby. I need this time. Please don’t worry. I don’t know if I’ll have cell phone service at the lake, but I’ll be fine, regardless. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can. Have champagne tonight with Luke instead!

  xoxo

  Maggie

  Ellen resisted crumpling the note. Had Maggie’s trip to the ladies’ room been a ruse—a cover for her exit from the reception and from her sister’s and Luke’s scrutiny? Had she had the note written already when she and Ellen had talked a few minutes ago?

  Had her sister engineered her exit so Ellen could be alone with Luke tonight?

  Stifling her emotions—an unhealthy mix of anger, frustration and worry—she shoved the note at Luke.

  He scanned it and handed it back. “Do you know where this cabin is located?”

  She shook her head.

  “We need to find it,” he said. “And we need someone to lay eyes on Hugh Parker.”

  ***

  Ellen rolled down the passenger window in Luke’s rental car, breathing in the cool afternoon air. She got directions to the cabin from the professor who had given her Maggie’s note. No sign of concern. None. There was no landline at the cabin and only spotty cell coverage, she’d explained. But Ellen didn’t plan to call, anyway. She wanted to see her sister face-to-face. Eye to eye. Ask her what was going on. No excuses now not to explain. Her talk was done, and it had been a success.

  It did occur to Ellen that she was overreacting in part because of Luke. His presence always super-charged her emotions. She’d gone back to the hotel with him. They’d grabbed their bags and she’d checked out. She’d resisted thoughts of intimacy, the urge to touch him, but when he’d touched her—affectionate, reassuring—she’d felt herself wanting to give in. How easy it would be to fall in love with such a man.

  With a little luck, they’d find Maggie, and she’d prove to them nothing was going with her on other than a preoccupied, stressed-out academic needing time to herself and not quite knowing how to tell her sister and a Texas Ranger to buzz off.