Secret Hideaway Page 4

  He gave a curt nod. “You’re right. Resist speculating.”

  “I wish we knew where that SOB Hugh Parker is. You haven’t heard back yet, have you?”

  “Not on his whereabouts. I have his photo.” He jumped back onto the lawn. “Let’s have a look inside the cabin.”

  “She can’t have gone far if she left the door wide open.”

  Luke said nothing. Ellen realized she’d made her comment because she wanted reassurance. She wanted him to tell her there was no reason to worry about her sister, but an open cabin door meant little without further evidence.

  They mounted the steps to the deck. Ellen stood aside, knowing Luke would want to go in first. She attempted a smile at him as he stepped past her but knew it didn’t happen. Her heart was beating fast, and her head spun with possibilities. What if Maggie had hurt herself? What if she had fallen in the cold water?

  Stop. Just stop.

  As much as Ellen didn’t want to admit it, she recognized that being here—being back in the Adirondacks for the first time since she was eighteen—was affecting her, undoubtedly contributing to her sense of foreboding, even to her physical reaction. Racing heart, clammy palms, shallow breathing.

  Luke eyed her a moment. “You can wait out here if you want.”

  “I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

  He pulled open the screen door, then tested the main door. “It’s unlocked,” he said, pushing it open. “Maggie, it’s Luke and your sister.”

  Ellen followed him inside. Maggie wasn’t in the cozy main room. Her suitcase looked as if she’d plopped it on the floor, deciding to take a walk before she unpacked.

  Luke checked the two first-floor bedrooms and the bathroom.

  He shook his head as he returned to the main living area. “No sign of her.”

  “Luke…”

  He walked to a large window overlooking the quiet lake.

  Ellen stood next to him. “If Maggie went for a walk, she’ll be heading back soon. It’s getting dark, and I bet there are mosquitoes. She hates mosquitoes.”

  Luke gave a curt nod. “Let’s check outside, see if we can pick up any footprints.”

  “Luke, are you worried about her?”

  “Getting there.”

  ***

  They circled around the opposite side of the cabin to the driveway, then walked back out to the road, making sure to avoid trampling anything that could be of use in finding Maggie. Ellen stopped abruptly at the end of the driveway, grabbing Luke by the arm. “That’s fresh,” she said, pointing to a distinct footprint in a soft, wet spot on the edge of the road, leading away from the cabin.

  Luke nodded. “It looks like a woman’s print.”

  Ellen gulped in a breath. About three feet up the road was a second print. “Luke.”

  “I see it,” he said.

  “That wasn’t made by the same foot as this first one.”

  “Give another shout for your sister,” Luke said. “Keep any worry out of your voice.”

  “Maggie! Where are you?” Ellen added a frustrated laugh and kept her voice raised as she continued. “I’m ready for some New York style barbecue. What a gorgeous place.”

  Luke stayed quiet and still next to her, but there was no response to Ellen’s call to her sister. He shook his head. “Let’s go up the road a little ways. It’ll be dark in another hour. Ellen…” He paused. “If we don’t find her in the next five minutes or so—”

  “We’ll need to launch a formal search. I know.”

  He touched her elbow. “We have no evidence of foul play. Keep that in mind.”

  “I will. I am.”

  6

  Luke batted a mosquito away from his head. He didn’t think it had bitten him. Hadn’t occurred to him to pack bug spray when he’d headed north. He and Ellen were about a quarter-mile past Maggie’s borrowed cabin. The road was narrower and rougher, with more embedded rocks and deeper ruts and pits. To their left, the land descended sharply to the lake, water visible here and there through tall trees. To their right were more dense woods. He figured there had to be a cabin or some kind of dwelling up ahead, or why bother with a road?

  Cell phone service was marginal to nonexistent now, but Luke knew Ellen wouldn’t want to turn back and call a search party until the road ended or they could see where it did end—or, better yet, they found her sister. But he couldn’t wait much longer. He had to get a search party out here. Better to call one in too soon than too late.

  And he had to call Ellen and Maggie’s father. Jack Galway needed to know he had a daughter in trouble.

  Potentially.

  Hair-splitting as far as Luke was concerned at this point, but he reminded himself that eccentric Maggie Galway could be off chasing butterflies. Literally, even, although Luke didn’t know if upstate New York had butterflies this time of year. For that matter, he didn’t know if Texas did.

  He gave himself a mental shake. Butterflies? What the hell?

  The road angled up to the right, avoiding a cluster of large boulders above the water. “Ellen,” Luke said, stopping. “We haven’t seen any tracks since those first two by the cabin. Let’s turn back. We don’t want to waste time or daylight.”

  She nodded, her face pale despite the exertion of their trek. “I can’t stand this, Luke. I keep thinking she’ll pop out from behind a boulder and say boo.”

  “I know. So do I.”

  “We used to play hide-and-seek as kids.” Ellen inhaled, straightening. “I can’t go there in my mind. It won’t help. What’s next?”

  “Back to the cabin and some calls.”

  “To the state and local police and my dad and uncle.”

  “If there’s anything they can do, your father and Sam will do it. You know that.”

  “If something’s happened and there’s a Texas connection, they’ll find it.”

  Luke hadn’t put it that way, but it was what he was thinking, too.

  Hugh Parker was a Texan. So was his brother in prison.

  Walking toward the cabin instead of away from it offered a different angle of the lake and the surrounding woods. Luke noticed that he and Ellen had left few footprints. Someone else coming this way could easily not have left any prints. Most of the few wet spots were on the edges of the road.

  Ellen climbed onto a five-foot granite boulder looming on the right edge of the road, bits of mica catching the last rays of sunlight. She stood and looked down through the trees toward the lake. Luke eased to the base of the boulder, spotting her in case emotion and distraction got the better of her. She was fit and sure in her movements, but her concern for her sister was palpable.

  She sat down, her knees at his chest as she dangled them off the side in front of him. “Ellen and I were held in a spot like this,” she said quietly. “Boulders, evergreens. It was winter, thought, so beautiful with the freshly fallen snow.” She seemed lost in thought for a moment, then waved a hand. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Being here is causing flashbacks for you,” Luke said.

  She nodded. “Yes. Probably for Maggie, too. I wonder if that’s why she came here—to force herself to confront what happened. She’s different from me. She needs to process events her own way. I don’t know if she ever had a chance to do that.” Ellen swallowed visibly. “It doesn’t matter right now. We just need to find her.”

  She started to jump off the boulder, but Luke caught her by the middle and lifted her to the ground.

  “Thanks,” she said with a weak smile.

  He let his hand linger on her waist. He wanted her to trust him. Something in her dark eyes—eyes that disconcertingly reminded him of her father—told him she was almost there, or at least wanted to be there. He knew better than to launch himself into the future, but if something terrible had happened to her twin sister—if Ellen lost her—he couldn’t imagine what she would do. Maggie and Ellen were the tightest sisters he’d ever known, in part because of their experience that winter in the Adirondacks as teenagers.


  He batted away another mosquito, this one buzzing around Ellen’s face.

  “Maggie won’t stay out here for long if mosquitoes are out.” Ellen took in a breath, looking less pale. “Maybe she’s back at the cabin by now.”

  Farther down the road, Luke heard a rustling and crunching in the woods to the left, then saw a movement in the underbrush and ground cover. He got in front of Ellen.

  Then came a small cry.

  “That’s Maggie,” Ellen said.

  Luke shot ahead of her as Maggie staggered onto the road. He reached her first and caught one arm around her waist as she started to sink. “Are you alone?” he asked.

  She managed a nod. “Yes.” She clutched his arm. “I’m okay. I’m just…” She seemed to summon the strength—emotional more than physical—to stand straight. “I got myself freaked out is all.”

  Ellen leaped to her sister’s opposite side. “Did you see Luke and me pass you a few minutes ago?”

  “Yes, I—I didn’t dare say anything in case he was following you. In case he had a gun on you.”

  Luke stood back. “Who?”

  “The man.”

  “What man, Maggie?” he asked.

  He saw she was trembling. “I saw him outside the cabin a few minutes after I got here. He was down by the dock. I panicked. I ran out the back door and hid.”

  Ellen glanced at Luke, her expression serious, no sign of panic. She shifted back to her sister. “Did you recognize this man?”

  “No.” Maggie shook her head as if to reassure herself she hadn’t recognized him. “He was at a distance, though.”

  “Did you speak with him?”

  “No, I told you. I ran.”

  “Did he say anything—give you a shout, call your name, anything at all?”

  She gulped in a breath. “He knew my name. He said it’s a nice name.”

  “I’d have freaked out, too,” Ellen muttered. “Did he tell you his name?”

  “I didn’t give him a chance. He implied he’s friends with the cabin’s owners. I didn’t want to take any chances. I’d been thinking about…” Maggie licked her lips, steadier. “You know.”

  “Eight years ago,” Ellen said.

  “We didn’t see this man at the cabin,” Luke said. “Do you think he has a place on the lake?”

  Maggie looked down the road toward the cabin. “I have no idea,” she said in a half whisper.

  Luke noticed she released her grip on him but was still trembling, if less so. “Was there anything particular about him that set you off?” he asked.

  “Not about him,” she said in a near mumble. “About me.”

  “We can talk more at the cabin,” Ellen said. “My mosquito radar is going off. I’m sensing a cloud of mosquitoes making its way toward us.”

  “I don’t know if mosquitoes congregate in clouds like that, not that they have to.” Maggie shuddered. “I had one buzzing around my head the whole time I was in hiding, but I didn’t dare move to brush it away. I don’t know if it bit me.” She stood still, continuing to stare down the road. “I was so excited about being here. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I can’t believe I let myself get freaked out by a man who was probably out for an afternoon walk and being neighborly.”

  “He didn’t try to follow you?” Ellen asked.

  “I don’t think so. I’m not sure he heard me leave. He could think I went on a walk. He might have no idea he scared me.”

  They started down the road, Luke on one side of Maggie and Ellen on the other. He asked Maggie to describe the man she’d seen. “I’m not that good with descriptions, that sort of thing,” she said. “I’d guess he was in his thirties. Medium in height and build, meaning his size didn’t stand out to me—he wasn’t noticeably thin, overweight, tall or short. He wasn’t clean-shaven but he didn’t have a full beard. A few days’ growth, maybe?”

  “What was he wearing?” Luke asked.

  “Baseball cap, jeans, safari-type jacket—tan. Running shoes.”

  For someone who thought she wasn’t good with descriptions, she’d provided a lot of details. “Did you see what kind of baseball cap?” Luke asked.

  “It was black. That’s all I remember. I wouldn’t know if it had a sports team logo.”

  When they arrived at the cabin, Luke produced Hugh Parker’s photo on his phone and showed it to Maggie. “Do you recognize this man?” he asked.

  She took the phone and stared at the image a few seconds, then nodded, her face noticeably paler. “That’s the strange man I told you about the other day, but I don’t think—” She stopped, took in a breath. “I can’t say for sure he was or wasn’t the man at the dock just now. I’m not that great with faces, and he was at a distance.” She handed the phone back to Luke. “Who is he?”

  “His name’s Hugh Parker,” Ellen said. “He and I have a history. Supposedly he’s staying with a friend in the area.”

  “Well, he was in Austin two days ago.” Maggie grimaced. “What did he do?”

  “He blames me because his brother is in prison. We couldn’t bring charges against Hugh. We didn’t have the evidence.” Ellen gave Maggie a wry smile. “He’s not grateful.”

  “I wasn’t crazy to run, then,” Maggie said half to herself. “Even if the man I saw isn’t this Hugh Parker. The gift of fear, they call it. Sometimes in your gut you know when you’re not safe. I thought it was because of my post-trauma issues.”

  “It could be both,” Luke said.

  Maggie looked lighter, happier. “Well, you know what the good news in all this is?”

  Ellen frowned. “What, Maggie?”

  “Neither of you has to call Dad and Uncle Sam to tell them a search party is out looking for me.”

  ***

  Maggie splashed lukewarm water on her face in the cabin’s only bathroom. She was embarrassed by the fuss she’d made, but at least she’d identified Hugh Parker as the strange man who’d approached her in Austin. Ellen and Luke seemed relieved she was all right and content to spend the night at the cabin with her. They were heating up minestrone soup the owners had left in the refrigerator for her retreat. It smelled like good soup. That was something, wasn’t it? Good soup, a picturesque setting, a charming cabin—it wasn’t so awful she’d sneaked up here and run for no good reason, was it?

  Could the man at the dock have been Hugh Parker?

  Maggie had no idea, but if she had stayed in Saratoga instead of coming up here for this retreat—being so mysterious about it—she’d never have seen him.

  She noticed a red bump on her neck.

  A mosquito had bitten her.

  She returned to the main room. Ellen was setting the table while Luke took a call out on the deck. She mouthed Sam just as Luke came inside, his phone in one hand. “Looks like Hugh Parker is back in Austin, getting ready to move to Seattle to make a fresh start.”

  “Has anyone talked to him yet?” Ellen asked.

  “Sam talked to Hugh’s brother,” Luke said. “He wants to talk to Hugh himself.”

  Maggie set out cloth napkins. “Sam’s looking for him now?”

  “Yes.”

  That seemed to reassure even Ellen.

  The minestrone soup was as good as it smelled. Dinner talk shifted to other topics. Was it too early in the season for loons on the lake? Might they see a bear or a moose? What was the fishing like up here? Innocuous topics that had nothing to do with Hugh Parker or Maggie’s reasons for being here in the first place.

  “I’ve decided to go back to Austin in the morning,” she said finally, as they cleared the table. “My urge to take a retreat has diminished. This place is beautiful, but I can’t stay here by myself now. It’ll never work.”

  “Maggie…” Ellen sighed. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. It feels good. Right.” She smiled, setting the bowls in the sink. There was no dishwasher. “In a way, being here has served its purpose. I have a new perspective on what happened eight years ago. I’ll have to think about that mor
e. It’s still very fresh.”

  “Think all you want,” Ellen said softly.

  Maggie laughed. “I’m good at thinking.”

  Ellen suggested she and Maggie share the bedroom with the two twin beds. Luke would stay in the master bedroom with the queen-size bed.

  “I’m sorry,” Maggie whispered as she squirted dishwashing liquid into the sink. There was no dishwasher. Ellen carried the dishes from the table while Luke lit a fire in the fireplace. “If I weren’t here, you and Luke—”

  “It would be the same sleeping arrangement if you weren’t here, Maggie.”

  That she very much doubted, but she didn’t argue. “Ah. Of course.”

  7

  Ellen watched ducks—she had no idea what kind of ducks—gathering in a small cove to the right of the dock. Maggie had awakened early and had breakfast ready to go when Ellen had crawled out of bed, yawning as she’d entered the kitchen. Maggie had always been the early riser. They’d brought breakfast outside. Toast, scrambled eggs, juice and coffee.

  No sign of Luke yet.

  “I was up for the sunrise,” Maggie said as she looked out at the lake, glistening in the morning sun. “It was incredible. I’ll come back here another time. I emailed my friends and told them I’m leaving. They understand.”

  It was a bit cool outside, but it would be warming into a gorgeous day. Ellen felt a pang of regret for her sister’s change of plans. Whether or not Maggie had misinterpreted the intentions of the man she’d seen yesterday, the scare had made staying here alone impossible. Her retreat had lost its charm.

  “I came here because of what happened to us eight years ago,” Maggie said. “I love the idea of a retreat, but I’d never had gotten around to figuring one out if not for wanting to deal with the past. I’ve never really put it behind me. It’s silly, I know.”

  “It’s not silly, Maggie.”

  “Why should I still be affected by something that happened when I was a teenager? I survived. I wasn’t injured. The man who kidnapped us can’t possibly come back to hurt us.” Maggie spoke as if she were reciting a mantra to herself. She smiled faintly. “What’s to be bothered about?”