The author’s name sent a jolt of recognition through Jenna.“Vivian Crane,” she repeated.“I read her books as a child.Fanciful stories with fairy tale elements.If I remember correctly, she grew up in Genesius County.”
“That's right.She lives in New York now.”
“I didn't know she was still alive,” Jenna admitted.
“She is, but she's been out of the public eye for decades.Apparently, she had some kind of breakdown and stopped publishing.'Loyalynne' was supposed to be her comeback.”Dana's expression grew troubled.“But the focus group found it deeply disturbing.”
“In what way?”Jenna pressed.
Dana hesitated.“It was ostensibly a children's book, but with extremely dark content.The story centered on a living doll named Loyalynne who interacted with familiar fairy tale characters—Snow White, Little Red Riding Hood, Hansel and Gretel.But instead of following the sanitized versions most children know, Crane reverted to the original tales.She does her own illustrations and she actually enhanced the horror and violence of the originals.”
Jenna exchanged a glance with Jake.The connection with those old fairy tales was impossible to ignore.
“The focus group was unanimous,” Dana continued.“The book seemed to be the work of a deeply disturbed mind.It glorified violence and presented truly horrific scenarios as if they were normal.Rebecca was particularly concerned about the psychological impact it might have on children.”
“How did Vivian Crane respond to the rejection?”Jake asked.
Dana's eyes clouded.“She was there in person for the report—she'd flown in from New York specifically to hear the verdict.When they told her they wouldn’t recommend that the book be published, she became...unhinged.She screamed at the committee, accused them of censorship, of not understanding her vision.”
“What did she do afterward?”Jenna asked, feeling the pieces start to click into place.
“I don't know for sure,” Dana admitted.“Rebecca said she assumed Crane had returned to New York, but she wasn't certain.”
“Were there others in the focus group besides Rebecca and Claudia?”Jake asked.
“Three others, but they weren't local.They participated via video conferencing.”Dana shook her head.“I don't know their names or where they live.”
Jenna stood, her mind racing.“Thank you, Dana.You've been incredibly helpful.”
Dana looked between them.“Do you think this has something to do with Rebecca's death?”
“We're following every lead,” Jenna said, not wanting to alarm her unnecessarily.“If you think of anything else, please call me directly.”She handed Dana her card.
Outside in the parking lot, Jake turned to her.“You think Vivian Crane is behind this, don't you?”
Jenna's expression was grim, her eyes hard with certainty.“I'm sure of it.And I'm equally sure she didn't return to New York.”She unlocked the patrol car with a sharp click.“She's still here, Jake.And if we don't find her, she's going to kill again—if she hasn't already.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The car door closed with a dull thud, sealing Jenna and Jake into a bubble of shared concern.Jenna sat there without turning the key, her own words ricocheting through her mind.She's still here—and she might have already killed again.She looked at Jake, whose face had hardened into the expression she recognized from their most difficult cases.
“So where to now?”he asked.“Back to the station to organize a search?”
“We have nothing concrete to go on.We don’t even have grounds to charge her with anything.”She shook her head.“But she's here.I know it.We should check to see if she’s registered at any local accommodation.Or if she’s rented a car.”
Jenna inserted the ignition key but hesitated again.Something was tugging at her memory.
“I’m thinking about Mom’s call,” she said.“She said Piper kept saying something about ‘twilight.’I wonder …”
A flash of clarity broke through the fog of her thoughts.The words came back to her in her mother's voice, exact and clear:She lives in the twilight.
"Jake," she said, her pulse quickening, "I think I know what it means—' she lives in the twilight.'It's not metaphorical."
Jake frowned, processing.Then his eyes widened.“The Twilight Inn,” he said.“She's staying at the Twilight Inn.”
Jenna turned the key, and the engine roared to life.“It's exactly the kind of place where someone would stay if they wanted to keep a low profile without raising suspicions—cheap, minimal security, guests who mind their own business.”
“And it's just outside Trentville town limits,” Jake added, fastening his seatbelt as Jenna pulled out of the parking lot with more speed than caution.“Perfect if you want easy access to the area without staying within city limits.And only a half-hour drive from Pinecrest.”