Grand Passion

anything I want to do,” Valence prompted.
    “ I can do anything I want to do .”
    “The power of positive thinking is literally out of this world,” Valence announced with a triumphant smile. “It's pure energy. It's raw fuel, waiting to be poured into your creative engines.”
    Max watched with interest as Valence seemed to levitate back across the room to his wall chart.
    “I am here to teach you the secret of having it all,” Valence told the audience. “Money, power, success, and self-esteem. They can be yours by following my simple Five-Step Program. You want to wear clothes like mine? Drive a Porsche like mine? You'll be able to do just that when you've finished my program. I guarantee it.”
    Max lost interest and walked on toward the lobby. He stopped in front of the first of the series of seascapes that hung there and stood looking into it for a while.
    There was nothing to see beyond the surface image of a storm-tossed sea. The technique was poor, the design was static, and the colors were dull. It was the work of an amateur. Jason had been right in his own estimate of himself as a painter.
    “There you are, Max. I've been looking for you.” Sylvia Gordon waved from the office doorway. “There was a phone call for you a few minutes ago. I rang your room, but there was no answer so I took a message.”
    Max turned away from the seascape he had been studying and walked over to the front desk. “Thank you.”
    “No problem.” Sylvia smiled. “Sorry I couldn't find you when the call came through.” She handed him a piece of paper. “Whoever she is, she sounded very anxious to get hold of you.”
    Max glanced at the note. Kimberly called. She wants you to return her call as soon as possible. Very important. The very important had been underlined three times.
    “Just a business matter,” Max said. “It's not really important.”
    He crumpled up the note and tossed it in the waste-basket, just as he had the half dozen other urgent messages he had received from Kimberly Curzon during the past month. He wondered absently how she had managed to track him down here at the coast.
    “Is Cleo back yet?” he asked.
    “No.” Sylvia glanced at the wastebasket where the note had disappeared. When she looked at Max again there was speculation in her eyes. “But I expect her any minute. She won't be away long. Not with this crowd filling up the inn.”
    A roll of thunder drew Max's attention to the window. It had grown dark outside. The blustery wind was howling beneath the eaves. The rain would hit at any minute. Even as Max watched, a shaft of lightning arced across the sky.
    “Another storm,” he said.
    Sylvia shrugged. “It's that time of year. Listen, I wanted to thank you for finding Sammy's duck last night. He really treasures that thing.”
    “It was no problem.”
    “Lucky Ducky means a lot to him because Jason gave it to him.” Sylvia smiled tremulously. “Sammy's at that age when he's looking for a male role model. You know how it is.”
    “Sammy said his father's lost. He says he went off to look for himself.”
    Sylvia grimaced. “Children take things so literally, don't they? But he's not entirely wrong. Doug came home from the office one day and announced that he couldn't handle the responsibility of a wife and child. He said our marriage had been a terrible mistake. He packed up his things and left. Sammy was only a year old at the time.”
    “I take it your ex doesn't come around to visit Sammy?”
    Sylvia shook her head. “Doug went back east, where he apparently decided he was ready for responsibility after all. The last I heard he had married again and started a new family. He's never contacted Sammy and me since, except through his attorney. He does occasionally remember to pay child support.”
    The lights went out just as another flash of lightning lit up the darkened sky.
    “Darn,” Sylvia muttered. “There goes the power again. I hope it's just a blown fuse this time. Last month a tree went down across the lines, and we were without electricity for hours.”
    Max seized the opportunity. “I'll check the fuse box, if you like.”
    Sylvia gave him a grateful look. “Thanks. Hang on a second.” She reached under the front desk and produced a flashlight. “We keep one handy, as you can see. This sort of thing happens a lot around here.”
    Herbert T. Valence stormed out of the parlor just as Sylvia handed the large flashlight to Max. His expression of intense