Grand Passion

little town south of here.” Max walked toward the door.
    Cleo hurried after him, bemused by Max's strange, new mood. It was as if he regretted the fact that his friend had found Ben. “Did he contact him?”
    “No.” Max went through the door and started toward the stairs. “I thought I'd drive down and see him in person.”
    “Yes, of course.” Cleo climbed the stairs beside him. “That would probably be best. It's really nice of you to do this, Max.”
    “Don't get your hopes up, Cleo. If he doesn't want to come back to Trisha and the baby, I can't force him.”
    “I know. But I really think Ben will want to come back home once he's had a chance to get over being scared. He just needs someone he can talk to, Max.”
    “Maybe.” Max halted on the third-floor landing and turned to walk Cleo to her room.
    Cleo glanced down at his cane. “Your leg is bothering you tonight, isn't it? We should have taken the elevator.”
    “I'm fine, Cleo.”
    “I could make you a batch of Andromeda's special tea. I know the recipe.”
    “I've got some pills I can take.” Max halted in front of her door and held out his hand.
    Cleo reached into her pocket for her room key. Her fingers closed first around the key to Max's room. It burned her hand. She quickly dropped it back into her pocket and yanked out the right key.
    Max said nothing. He simply took the key from her and unlocked the door.
    Cleo stepped into the cozy safety of her room and turned to say good-night. “Max…”
    His mouth curved faintly. “If you want to talk to me any more tonight, you know where to find me. All you have to do is use the key.”
    He turned and walked toward the narrow door that opened onto the attic stairs. He did not look back.
    Cleo stood in the doorway of her room and watched until Max vanished. Then she slowly closed her door and went to stand in front of the window.
    Beneath the scattered clouds, the ocean was a black silk cape that stretched out to the horizon. Moonlight gleamed on its folds as it shifted gently over the mysteries below. Cleo gazed out over the surface of the dark sea, trying to imagine what it concealed.
    All you have to do is use the key .
    It was another line from her book, of course. Max was apparently memorizing every chapter.
    She thought about the way he had been leaning on the hawk-headed cane as he went up the stairs. Her instincts had told her from the start that the recurrent ache in Max's leg mirrored the darker, deeper wound in his soul. He was a man who had survived without much love, and he had found ways to do without. But that did not mean he wasn't hurting.
    Five Amos Luttrell paintings, no matter how beautiful or how valuable, were never going to fill the empty places in Max's life. She knew what Max needed, even if he didn't. He needed a home, just as she had needed one after her family had been destroyed.
    Cleo opened her fingers slowly and looked down at the key and the card he had put into her hand.
    She dropped both into her pocket and went to the door. She let herself out into the hall and went downstairs.
    When she reached the kitchen she found a stainless steel kettle, filled it with cold water, and set it on the stove.
    A few minutes later Cleo poured the boiling water over the herbs she had placed in a ceramic pot. She put the lid on the pot and added a cup and saucer to the tray.
    She carried the tray down the hall and took the small elevator to the third floor. Then she walked to the attic staircase door.
    She climbed the darkened stairs to the attic and paused in front of Max's door. The floorboard in front of Max's room squeaked. She knew he could hear the sound from inside the room. Cleo put the tray on the floor and knocked hesitantly.
    “Max?”
    There was silence for a moment. Then Max's voice came softly from inside the room. “What is it, Cleo?”
    “Open the door. I brought you some of Andromeda's tea.”
    “Use the key that I gave you.”
    Cleo took a step back as if the door had suddenly become red-hot. “Max, I didn't come up here to play fantasy games with you. I brought you something for your leg.”
    “I don't need anything for my leg.”
    “Yes, you do. Don't be so darn stubborn.” Cleo dug the key out of her pocket, shoved it into the lock, and opened the door before she lost her nerve.
    The only light on in the vast room beneath the eaves was from the small lamp beside the bed. It revealed Sammy's crayon drawing neatly pinned to the wall beside the