Long Black Curl by Alex Bledsoe

there’s no way you remember Marlin Perkins.”
    â€œActually, that’s true. I got the DVDs from the library. Fascinating stuff. Jim and Stan really were idiots.” He unwrapped a granola bar from the bag between the seats. “Have fun. I’ll use this to stave off dissolution.”
    Bo-Kate got out and climbed the steps. How many times had she done that as a little girl, to get a free Co-Cola from Peggy or her husband, Marshall? As if to dispel the warmth of that memory, the snow blew almost horizontally, right into her face. She squinted through it and opened the lobby door.
    Inside, the fireplace crackled in the corner of the empty caf é . There was no one behind the desk, so Bo-Kate rang the little bell and waited, reading the text beneath the framed picture of Bronwyn Hyatt, Needsville’s lone celebrity.
    WAR HERO’S TRIUMPHANT RETURN , the headline announced above the photo of a pretty dark-haired girl in an army dress uniform. A separate frame displayed another clipping that read, WAR HERO MARRIES LOCAL MINISTER ; this time the photo featured the same girl standing beside a handsome, sandy-haired young man.
    â€œBronwyn,” Bo-Kate murmured. She knew all about this girl, both from the news, where for fifteen minutes she was unavoidable, and from the innate sense all Tufa had of each other. Something warned her that Bronwyn Hyatt, now Chess, would be a formidable opponent.
    Peggy Goins emerged from the back, where she lived with her husband. “Sorry, I was using the little girls’ room. Can I—?”
    Bo-Kate smiled and said, “Hello, there, Miss Peggy.”
    Peggy stared, then said, “Hello yourself, Bo-Kate. Been a long time.”
    â€œHas indeed. How’s Marshall these days?”
    â€œNo different. How’s the big city?”
    â€œNashville’s Nashville.”
    Peggy straightened some of the tourist brochures in the desk display. She looked to be in her fifties, with immaculate black hair starting to go gray. She wore a sweatshirt with an image of a bear cuddling a guitar. At last she said, “You and I could exchange pleasantries all day, Bo-Kate, but I know damn well you ain’t here just to visit. So tell me what you want.”
    She smiled. “I want Rockhouse’s old job. He can’t do it anymore.”
    â€œSo you heard about that?”
    Bo-Kate smiled. “Night wind blows all the way to Nashville, you know. I heard he got called out, his dirge got sung, and his inbred daughter ripped out his throat. Might’ve been easier for everybody if she’d just killed him outright, but that ain’t the way it happened, is it?”
    Peggy hid her surprise as much as she could. “So you can hear the night wind?”
    Bo-Kate laughed. “That’s all you’ve got to say, Miss Peggy? What about me taking over for Rockhouse?”
    â€œAnything to do with Rockhouse and his people, you’ll have to take up with him, and them.”
    â€œOh, I have.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the baggy. She placed it on the desk between them. Against the bright white paint, the bloody fingers looked even more ghastly.
    Peggy gasped and looked up at Bo-Kate, eyes wide. “You didn’t.”
    â€œI did. He’s done, Peggy. He can’t sing, and now he can’t play. Believe me, I know how that feels. But I’m not just aiming for his job. I want it all. I want to bring us back together, one tribe, and I have some ideas about how to also bring us into the present. No more hiding, no more singing just for ourselves. What do you think of that?”
    â€œI think you’ll find that the other seat is still occupied.”
    â€œBy that girl Mandalay? Please. That kid is even less of a problem than Rockhouse, and just as easy to fix.”
    â€œYou’re threatening a child again? You didn’t learn a damn thing, did you?”
    â€œI’m not threatening anyone. If