“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 photo of Hugh Parker?”
“We must. I’ll get it to you.”
“Thanks,” Luke said, then entered the reception room, searching for the Galway twins.
Chapter 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.”