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everyone fends for himself when the inn is full.”
    “I'll remember that.”
    “We're going to be swamped for the next three days with this motivational seminar crowd,” Cleo observed.
    “I saw the audiovisual equipment being set up in the parlor. What's this seminar stuff all about?”
    “Herbert T. Valence's Five Easy Steps to Wealth, Power, and Unlimited Success,” Cleo explained.
    Max looked up. “There aren't five easy steps to all that.”
    “No?”
    “There's only one step.”
    Cleo was intrigued. “What's that?”
    Max shrugged. “You fight for it. And when you've got what you want, you fight again to defend it.”
    “Not according to Herbert T. Valence. He says the trick is to think positive and affirm your goals every day. I gather he started giving these seminars a couple of years ago. He's got quite a reputation.”
    “The man's either a fool or a con artist.”
    “Mind your tongue.” Cleo chuckled. “Thanks to Mr. Valence, I have a full inn. Try a muffin.” She tore hers apart, heedless of crumbs. “I've had two already, and I swear this is going to be my last one.”
    Max picked up a knife and went to work on one of his muffins as if it were an uncut diamond.
    Cleo stopped chewing and watched in fascination as he methodically split the muffin in half. Next, he cut off a quarter of the muffin with grave precision.
    He put down the knife, picked up a spoon, and dipped it into the honey pot. When he had collected a quantity of the thick, golden stuff, he gave the spoon a deft twist. Not a single drop of honey fell back into the pot or onto the table as he gracefully transferred it to the muffin on his plate.
    It was like watching a Borgia or a Medici eat, Cleo thought. One had the feeling that behind the polished manners, there was a sheathed sword tucked politely out of sight.
    Max's eyes met Cleo's just as he was about to take a bite. He stopped with the muffin section halfway to his mouth. “Something wrong?”
    “No, not at all.” Cleo grinned. “It's just that Jason was the only person I ever saw who ate Daystar's muffins so neatly. Most people inhale them.”
    “I'm sure they're excellent.” Max glanced at the women who were preparing breakfast. “Your kitchen staff is a little out of the ordinary.”
    “I'll say. They're fantastic.” Cleo leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Someone's always trying to steal Andromeda and Daystar. Every restaurant owner and inn manager on the coast would kill to get them.”
    “Where did you find them?”
    “I didn't. They found me.” Cleo sat back. “They're from the Cosmic Harmony Women's Retreat. The Retreat is about a mile and a half from here, on the other side of the cove. You can see it from your window.”
    Max looked up from his muffin. “I saw something that looked like an old resort.”
    “It was at one time. The resort folded. It wasn't the right kind of establishment for this section of the coast. At any rate, after I opened the inn, Andromeda and Daystar decided I needed a first-rate kitchen to attract business. They, on the other hand, needed a stable source of income to run the Retreat. They waved a contract in my face, and I signed.”
    “Just like that?”
    “Sure. I tend to make most decisions on the spur of the moment. For instance, I bought this place within twenty-four hours of looking at it. Of course, if I'd gotten a good look at the antique plumbing I might have hesitated a bit. It gave me nothing but trouble for the first two years. But Benjy wandered into my office one day a year and a half ago looking for a job, and my maintenance problems were solved.”
    “Until Benjy disappeared last night?”
    Cleo frowned. “I wonder where he is. I'm getting a little worried. It's not like him to just up and vanish like this. He and Trisha…” The phone rang before Cleo could finish the sentence. She snatched up the kitchen extension that hung on the wall of the nook. “Robbins' Nest Inn.”
    “Cleo? Thank God. This