“Why?”
“Some bad blood with Matt Winston, I think. He’s one of the owners, and Sanctuary is his baby. And before you ask, no, I don’t know what’s behind the animosity, only that it goes back a lot further than Sanctuary. I do know that Matt is a good guy and he wouldn’t do anything that would put us in danger.”
She chanced another glance Jaxson’s way. He looked deep in thought.
Once again, a sense of déjà vu washed over her, only this time, she knew why. “You know, you kind of remind me of Sam a little.”
“Yeah? How’s that?”
“She was quiet and broody, too—at least before she met Steve. And you both have the same color hair and unusual eyes. Maybe you two are related somehow.”
Jaxson’s interest was immediate. “Did Ilsa have a sister?”
“Not that I know of, but that was before my time.” She offered another small smile. “Now that you have a last name, you can probably find out for yourself.”
The brief tour of the town complete, Penny abandoned the idea of taking a drive up the mountain and showing him some of those vistas. He clearly wasn’t interested in seeing the sights, and she’d told him everything she knew. Her usefulness had expired.
She knew she’d made the right decision when she pulled into the lot and he didn’t hesitate to get out.
“Thanks, Penny.”
“You’re welcome. I hope your leg feels better.”
Penny watched him enter the motel, her smile fading as he disappeared down the corridor. He didn’t look back once.
“Take care of yourself, Jaxson,” she whispered. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
* * *
Jaxson
Jaxson’s mind was spinning as he made his way back to his room.
Ilsa’s daughter had the same eyes as he did. And he had his father’s eyes.
Coincidence? Maybe, but his gut didn’t think so.
He sat down and got to work. Appelhoff wasn’t a common name. That should simplify things.
Internet searches provided some additional information. He found articles on the fire that had destroyed the bakery and the tragic deaths of the elderly couple who’d lived there. He also came across some on an explosion that had destroyed the small café where Sam had worked and a fire in her apartment building shortly afterward. With each account, it became clearer that the granddaughter, Samantha, wasn’t in particularly good favor with local police and fire officials. While they didn’t come right out and blatantly accuse her of setting the fire, the insinuations were there for anyone who could read between the lines.
Other than that, he found only a more recent notice of Samantha’s marriage by a local justice of the peace to a former SEAL by the name of Steve Tannen.
One thing Jaxson knew for sure: he had to talk to Samantha Appelhoff before he left Sumneyville.
It looked like he would be paying a visit to Sanctuary after all.
Chapter Fourteen
Jaxson
When Jaxson awoke Monday morning, it was with a plan in mind. First order of business: getting his bike fixed. Then, he’d be taking a ride up to Sanctuary.
Harry was at the front desk again, his legs propped up, laughing at something on his phone screen with a box of convenience store doughnuts next to him.
“Do you know where I can find a guy named Zeb Stoltzfus?” Jaxson asked.
Harry chuckled and put down his phone. “Zeb? Sure. He’s out on Miller Lane. Why?”
“I hear he’s the man to talk to about bikes.”
“That he is.” Harry scratched at his scruff, leaving a dusting of powdered sugar behind in the process. “He’s not the friendliest guy though. Does he know you’re coming?”
Jaxson nodded. Zeb should know, if Penny had done what she’d said she was going to do. Penny seemed a little scatterbrained sometimes, but she also seemed like the type of person who did what she said.
“Go left two blocks, then down another three.”
“Thanks.”
As Jaxson turned to leave, Harry held the box of doughnuts out to him. “Want one? They’re included as part of the free continental breakfast.”
Jaxson grabbed one, thinking it might be a while before he had a chance to eat again. His pain meds were easier to tolerate when he had something in his stomach. He added a quick stop to the small grocery store he’d seen on Penny’s grand tour to his agenda.
The thought of yesterday’s drive-around as a grand tour brought a smile to his lips, as did the self-appointed tour guide. She really was attractive in a decent, hometown sort of way.
His smile quickly faded. He’d seen a gamut of emotions cross her expression over the course of the afternoon. Surprise and pleasure that he’d agreed to let her give him a ride. Pride and humor in the things she’d pointed out to him. Curiosity and interest in the questions he’d asked. Blatant disappointment when she’d realized the only reason he’d accepted her offer was to ferret out information.
The thing was, that wasn’t entirely true. Despite himself, he genuinely enjoyed her company. She was a ray of sunshine in a world that was otherwise gray.
Which was exactly why he had to be extra careful and keep her at arm’s length. He’d driven her away twice already. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to do it a third time because he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to anymore.
He shook off those thoughts and focused on the task at hand. The heavy rain was going to make getting his bike to Zeb’s more challenging, but he’d done harder things in far worse conditions. He put on his rain gear, ignoring the aches that seemed to magnify with the lousy weather, and started walking his bike out of the lot and down the street.
Jaxson followed Harry’s directions. Zeb’s place wasn’t hard to find. It was an older house with a collection of outbuildings, one of which looked like it might have been a legit garage at one time. It had two bays and an ancient pump that probably hadn’t seen actual fuel in his lifetime but was kept in good enough shape that it looked like it could, if anyone had a mind to make it happen.
Classic rock drifted out from one of the open bays, bringing bittersweet memories to the surface. His father had liked that stuff, too. Jaxson had grown up listening to it as they worked on engines together.
Inside, a fifty-something, bearded guy wearing suspenders watched him approach.
“Zeb Stoltzfus,” the guy said, extending his hand. “You must be Jaxson.”
“I am.”
Zeb’s grip was firm, his hand even rougher and more calloused than Jaxson’s.
“Penny said you’d be stopping by today.” Zeb looked at the bike and whistled. “A Willie G, huh? Don’t see a lot of them. How’d you get your hands on that?”
The guy knew his classics.
“It was my father’s.”
Zeb straightened with some difficulty and regarded Jaxson with narrowed eyes. “Your name is Adams? Your father wouldn’t be Bo by any chance, would he?”
Jaxson’s eyes snapped back to Zeb. “It would.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Zeb’s mouth widened to a huge grin. He looked out into the rain, as if hoping to see someone else. “I haven’t seen that old son of a bitch in years. Is he with you?”