Kindred Spirit - Noah Harris Page 0,8
about the strange face than suspicious. Word had passed around, though from who, he didn’t know, that he was a strange artist from somewhere east who had come to find ‘inspiration’ in the small town.
Jacob still wasn’t sure how the hell the DDI had even found out that he painted in his spare time. It wasn’t exactly something he broadcast, and he couldn’t remember bringing it up to anyone. Painting, or really any creative outlet, had been something the assigned shrink from the DDI had advised. That had been during his first few months with the agency, and he was still scrambling to make sense of his new understanding of the world. He wasn’t sure if doctor-patient privilege was a thing with DDI shrinks, but it was the only place he could think the information came from.
“Alright, you,” he addressed the overhead light. “You behave yourself, got it? I really don’t want to call the front desk.”
Frowning, he reached out and flicked the switch. There was a moment of nothing, then the light flickered, way too fast to be right. In the darkness between flickers, his eyes widened as he spotted the telltale signs of sparks and quickly slapped the switch off.
He honestly had no idea what had possessed the motel to put a central light fixture in the room rather than using lamps like every other place he’d ever stayed in. At least a dubious lamp could be replaced without fuss. And considering the only other spot in the small room with a light was the bathroom, he couldn’t very well rely on it.
“Damn it,” he muttered.
There was no way he was going to be able to keep his cover without at least painting something on the canvas set up in his room. And as much as he really didn’t want to go showing off his less than stellar painting skills, he didn’t want to draw suspicion to himself. In order to paint, though, he would need better lighting. Now, he’d be using the one window during the day or trying to squint in the low light of the bathroom.
He snatched up his jacket, draped over the back of the lone chair, and made for the door. Jacob jerked back when he found a woman standing on the other side, one arm raised, the other tucked against her side.
“Oh, hi there,” she said brightly.
Jacob squinted down at the diminutive woman, glancing between her heart-shaped face and the package under her curled arm. “Uh, hi.”
She beamed as though he’d found the best thing possible to say. “Sorry about that. Was getting ready to knock. Didn’t know you were getting ready to open it and make me look like some sort of creep lurking on the other side. Anyway, I’m Laura and I came over because I kept hearing about this new stranger who’s been all over town but who no one knows anything about.”
Jacob blinked, unsure how she managed to speak without any insinuated periods in her voice. “I, um...thank you?”
Laura held out a basket, shoving it into Jacob’s arms. “I know places like this aren’t always the best about welcoming strangers, but I heard you were going to be hanging around a little bit. Oh! So it’s true, you are an artist.”
Jacob turned to follow her gaze to the blank canvas. “Ah, yeah, trying to find my...muse.”
Well, that sounded convincing.
She wrinkled her nose. “Awfully dark, don’t you think?”
“Was getting ready to go to the front desk. Seems there’s a short or something in the overhead light.”
“Oh. Well, I can take care of that for you, no problem. We’ve only got one handyman in town, and he’s who they’re gonna call if they need someone to fix something. Here, let me send him a text real quick. He’s over at the Loon fixing up one of their taps or something.” She babbled away contentedly, holding her phone up toward the sky as she tapped out a message.
“I don’t want to trouble anyone,” Jacob tried lamely.
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all! Like I said, there’s only one handyman, and he’s actually pretty handy, even if he likes to act like he don’t know much. And boy, they sure weren’t kidding when they said you were a big one. I didn’t know they made them as big as you,” she rambled.
Jacob cocked his head. “I’m going to be honest and say that I don’t know how to respond to that. Should I say thank you?”
Laura laughed. “I’m sorry, here I am talking