“I can spot a seriously unstable aura and the blanks. But straight-up, cold-blooded evil is remarkably stable, in my experience.”

“So you can’t always tell the good guys from the bad guys?”

“Nope. I don’t know of anyone, psychic or otherwise, who can do that. People are just too complicated, and their auras mirror those complications.”

Harlan drank some coffee and set the cup on the counter with an air of careful precision. She thought he was going to return to his phone. Instead he looked at her with unreadable eyes.

“You can see my aura, can’t you? All of it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I thought so. Most people see only what I want them to see.”

“That aura-manipulation talent of yours is . . . interesting.”

“ ‘Interesting’ is one word for it,” he said. “The old saying that people see what they expect to see is true, but it goes deeper—they see what they want to see, what they need to see.”

She looked at him over the rim of the coffee cup. “I would think it would be a very useful talent. You make it sound like there’s a downside.”

“There’s a downside to every talent, isn’t there?”

“So they say. What’s the downside to being a chameleon talent?”

His brows rose. “ ‘Chameleon talent’?”

“That’s the term that came to mind. ‘Camouflage talent’ would be an equally apt description, I suppose.”

He drank some more coffee while he thought about that. “ ‘Camouflage talent’ is as good as any other label. Sounds better than ‘illusion talent.’ ”

“Who called you that?”

“Someone I do odd jobs for occasionally.”

“So what’s the downside of your talent?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Harlan paused for a moment, evidently searching for words. “When you realize you can make people see you the way you want them to see you, it becomes instinctive. A reflex.”

“Probably a handy skill set when it comes to getting dates.”

“Among other things.”

She smiled. “Such as hiding in plain sight for five years while Victor Arganbright and Lucas Pine employ the resources of the Foundation to hunt for you?”

“My ability to manipulate my aura proved useful these past five years.”

“But?”

“If I walk into a restaurant without my camouflage, I raise the hair on the back of every neck in the room. People are afraid of me, but they have no idea why.”

“So you stay below the radar, but that means no one ever sees the real you.”

“Something like that.”

“Including the people you date.”

“Including them.” He looked at her. “But last night you saw the real me, and you didn’t run.”

“I grew up in Fogg Lake and I’m a private investigator who handles cases for the Foundation. You are not the first high-level talent I’ve met. Takes a lot to make me run.”

Harlan watched her for a long moment.