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collectors prefer to remain anonymous. If they do invite me into their homes to appraise their collections, as Mrs. Vaughn did, they expect me to be extremelydiscreet. Generally speaking, the underground market pays well, but the clients tend to be a difficult bunch.”
     
    “Define
difficult,
” Sam said.
     
    “The spectrum of difficult clients starts at eccentric and moves on through secretive, reclusive and paranoid, all the way to dangerous. But I try to leave that last category of client to my competitors. The true hot-books market is a pool that is very deep at one end. I stick to the shallows.”
     
    “Sounds like a smart business plan.”
     
    “There’s less money at my end of the market, but it’s definitely safer swimming. The point I’m trying to make, though, is that in my business, reputation is everything. Aside from the fact that I’m very good at what I do, my most important credentials are that I am considered one hundred percent trustworthy and that I am not perceived as a potential book thief. I regret to say that there are some freelancers in my business who are not above accepting a commission to acquire a particular hot book by any means possible.”
     
    “But if it got out that you can walk into someone’s private library, zap the collector unconscious and walk out with any item you care to take, some would–be clients would be reluctant to hire you, is that it?”
     
    “What do you think?”
     
    “I think you’re right,” Sam said. “Power of any kind is always interesting, but people tend to react to it in one of two ways. Some folks are compelled and attracted or even obsessed by power. Others get very, very nervous.”
     
    “Exactly. I’m glad you understand what I’m facing here. When it comes to my underground clients, I walk a fine line. Like them, I try to keep a very low profile, and not only because I value my reputation. I do not want to become the subject of someone’s research experiment or, worse yet, attract the sort of freaks who want to fire up a cult.”
     
    For the first time, surprise narrowed Sam’s brilliant green eyes. “You’ve had trouble with one or both of those types?”
     
    “When I was in my teens, and again in college, I attracted the attention of some people who wanted to study me. It was not a pleasant experience. And even though I try to vet every client carefully, once in a while one becomes obsessed with me because of my talent. Fortunately, no one has tried to get me to channel some ancient spirit, thank heavens, but my friend Gwen had some trouble in that department a while back. It was scary.”
     
    “Sounds like your talent-obsessed clients and the would–be cult founders have the potential to turn into stalkers.”
     
    “Yes.” Abby paused. “I don’t suppose you Coppersmiths have ever been bothered with problems like that.”
     
    “No, can’t say that we have.”
     
    She gave a small sigh. “Must be nice to be part of a family that can insulate you from that sort of thing.”
     
    “Moving right along, whoever sent you the threatening notes mentioned something about keeping your old secrets as well as the new ones. What did he mean?”
     
    “To tell you the truth, that was what made me contact Thaddeus.” She cleared her throat. “When I was in my early teens and just coming into my talent, my family concluded that I had some major mental-health issues.”
     
    “I can see where that might happen if you grow up in a family that doesn’t acknowledge the existence of the paranormal.”
     
    “In my case, there were some unfortunate incidents that confirmed their worst fears.”
     
    “Incidents?”
     
    “Yes. As a result of those incidents, I was sent to a school for troubled teens. It was either that or a juvenile-detention facility. My fathermade sure my legal file was sealed, but obviously the bastard who sent those blackmail notes is aware of at least some of my history.”
     
    “What kind of