Long Black Curl by Bledsoe Alex

Author:Bledsoe, Alex [Bledsoe, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781466851412
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

17

“Well,” Nigel said as he looked around an hour and a half later, “were one to look up ‘quaint’ in the dictionary, one might find an illustration of this place.”

They got out of the SUV, the only vehicle parked at the visitors’ center. Cricket, Tennessee, was what remained of a Victorian-era plan for an isolated Utopia of creative minds and hard workers. A dozen small, elaborate buildings lined the highway, all built in an unmistakably English style. They were painted in colorful pastels and connected by wooden sidewalks. Now, in the winter, there were no tourists visiting the café or shops, and apparently no workers, because the center’s doors were locked. Nigel rattled them again to make certain, then peered inside. He saw the dim shapes of various rustic exhibits, but no sign of movement.

“Well, it appears our drive was for naught. What did you want to show me?”

“Oh, I’ll still show you. Come on.” She led him past a restored schoolhouse, through a break in the trees, to the front porch of a green building with a bell tower.

“Is this a church?” Nigel asked.

“It’s a library,” Bo-Kate said. “All the books in here are at least a hundred and fifty years old.”

Again he rattled the locked door, which gave a bit. “You’d think they’d have better security.”

“Wouldn’t matter,” Bo-Kate said. She stepped back and kicked where the double doors met. It took three tries, but eventually they sprang open.

Nigel looked around. He saw no sign of anyone else, and no alarm sounded from within. “Uhm, Bo-Kate, my delight, is this—?”

“Come on,” she said as she strode inside. He followed.

The Roy Howard Library consisted of one big, high-ceilinged room. Tall windows rose on both sides, shuttered with heavy wooden louvered blinds. Books were displayed on the reading table. The air smelled musty and exceptionally dry; Nigel assumed a dehumidifier was responsible. Shelves lined the walls, and there were two freestanding shelf units as well.

Bo-Kate pulled a small halogen flashlight from her purse and shone it around. She strode straight to the back of the room, to the end of one of the standing shelves. “Stop gawking,” she said. “You’ve never seen a library before?”

“I’ve never broken into one, no.”

“Come here. This is what I brought you to see.”

He joined her at the back of the shelf, where a small painting in a thick, heavy frame hung. A group of fairies stood among flowers and weeds, watching the figure in the middle of the throng. This subject’s face was hidden, but he wore an odd cap and raised a double-bladed axe above his head. A hickory nut at his feet seemed to be the blow’s target.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Ever seen it before?”

“It looks vaguely familiar.”

“It’s called ‘The Fairy Feller’s Master Stroke.’”

“Ah,” he said dryly. “Fairies.”

She ignored his tone. “I want you to look at some of these faces. Try to remember them.”

“Why?”

“Pay attention, Nigel. This is Bliss Overbay, who you saw at the Pair-A-Dice. And this is her sister, Curnen. Up here is Marshall Goins.

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