'Before he finished, I happened to glance down, and noticed on a low shelf a hardback with Loyd Larcher's name on the spine. 'What's this?' I broke in, bending to pick up the book. It was Not a Jenny More, Not a Jenny Less. A quick glance inside told me it was published in nineteen-sixty-two. No reprints were listed, and I realized that in my hands was an unblemished first edition, complete with dust jacket. The first sentence of the blurb read: When two cousins with the same name fall in love with the same man, an astonishing intrigue develops.'We might be on to something here, Dale, this is a first edition. I told you, didn't I, that Loyd Larcher was the speaker at that dinner Jeremy took me to? He gave me his card, though we've not been in contact again.''Oh yes, Loyd Larcher. He was quite famous, wasn't he?''Your aunt might have been one of his fans. Let's see if she has any others.' We searched the bookcases and pulled out more Larcher first editions, together with other books. What he found there shocked and horrified him. A dirty figure, a young woman, in fact, stumbled towards them from around the bleachers. One arm limply clutching the stump of the other. Splattered blood decorated the left side of her face and what was left of her cheerleading uniform. The uniform itself was tattered and ripped. But what Jonathan couldn’t stop looking at was her eyes. Her eyes were wide and terrified and spoke of a nameless fear. She took a few steps toward the silent crowd and opened her mouth to say something before being pushed to the ground with a groan. A man stood hunched and bent behind where she had been a moment before. The man looked sick. His hair was falling out, and his skin appeared cracked and discolored. His eyes were the worst part of his features. Bleeding and leaking puss from under their lids they followed the limbless woman’s fall to the ground. Jonathan knew what was going to happen a moment before it did. The sickly looking man leaned down.
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