Read Online Last Writes by Sheila Lowe - Free Book Online

was within earshot, he said, “I have reason to think that outsiders may have infiltrated our home base—we call it the Ark. If I were to show you some handwritten documents, would you be able to tell me if they were lying about their motives for joining us?”
    Now it was Claudia’s turn to hesitate, not at all sure that she wanted to involve herself with him. “It might be possible. As I said, it depends on whether the writer feels any guilt about what they’re writing. For example, if someone were a sociopath, that would mean by definition that they have no conscience, so their handwriting would probably look more or less normal. It’s important to understand that handwriting shows potential , but there’s no way to predict whether the writer will ever act on that potential. That would depend on a lot of other factors all coming together at the right time. There simply are no guarantees.”
    “I understand. But from what you’ve said, it sounds to me as if this could be helpful for my needs. I would be interested in hiring you.”
    Claudia felt a tingle of surprise. She had not expected an offer of a work assignment to come out of attending the Temple of Brighter Light rally. They couldn’t have planned it better if they’d tried. Working for Harold Stedman might open a way to get some insider information about Rodney Powers.
    “Write something,” Kelly urged Stedman. “Let Claudia see your handwriting. She can tell you about yourself. That way you’ll know whether she’s any good at it.”
    Excellent idea. Most of the time, Claudia refused to do on-the-spot analysis and Kelly knew it. But obtaining a sample of Stedman’s handwriting would help her gauge whether she could trust him to tell the truth. She glanced over at him, waiting to see whether he would refuse, but he was nodding, giving no indication that he was afraid she might see something he wanted to hide.
    “Fine, fine. Have you got something to write on?”
    Claudia rooted around in her purse and produced a pen and spiral notebook. Opening to a blank page, she pushed it across the table. “Just a sentence or two and a signature will do for now. It doesn’t matter what you write about.”
    Stedman sat very still for about thirty seconds, holding the pen in his left hand, hovering above the notebook as he thought about it. Then he began to write, swiftly covering the small page with small, oddly uneven writing.
    As she watched, Claudia began to wonder whether he suffered from some physiological ailment that was affecting the writing rhythm. Handwriting sometimes revealed the location of illnesses in the body, though not specific diagnoses. The jerky quality of the writing trail suggested to her that he might have a neurological problem.
    When he handed her the paper she scanned the writing he had produced, curious to see how her personal perceptions of him stacked up against what his handwriting might reveal about his personality. She did not need to read the text of what he had written in order to form an opinion. The way he had arranged the writing on the paper, the letter forms he had chosen, and the writing movement were the important keys: Thready writing, indefinite, barely legible letterforms. A tall personal pronoun I , wide loops on the letter d . She felt the back of the paper. No pen pressure to speak of. Combined with the thready forms, the lack of pressure told her that the TBL guru was operating at a level of emotional tension that was higher than was good for him.
    Claudia wondered how he would react if he knew that Rodney Powers, who wanted to be a TBL elder, had bolted with his daughter, leaving his young wife desperate to find their child. In light of the emotional fragility she saw in Stedman’s writing, Erin probably had the right idea about not informing him about what was going on. She glanced up from the notebook.
    He was watching her, his chin resting on his fists again, waiting with anticipation for what she had to say.