BLUE BLOOD RUNS COLD (A Michael Ross Novel Book 1) Read Online Free

chief of the campus police at Shippensburg, Theodore Kenny, knew that he was not respected on campus by the students or in the town by the local police. The students on campus saw the university police as a group of people whose job it was to hand out extremely expensive parking tickets and break up loud parties during the early evening hours. Shippensburg tried its best to be an alcohol-free school—a notion that it used for advertisement purposes as much as possible while ignoring the reality of students carrying around vodka in sprite bottles, or hiding six packs of beer in extra backpacks they used just for that purpose. No one questioned a student carrying around a backpack; that was only to be expected. As a result, no one inspected any student's backpack at all. Beer got around campus by the gallons, even while Chief Kenny did his best to uphold the rules that had been established on campus.
                  More than that, the small, squat police station was a place where students paid their expensive fees to acquire parking passes when they could just as easily park a short distance away in town with the added inconvenience of walking into town every time they needed to drive somewhere. The police station had very limited evening and overnight shifts; students who lost their ID cards had to make do without it until the station opened up again and a replacement could be provided. This meant that the dining hall and the PUB had to keep records of students who had lost their cards and then charge those cards manually later, if that were possible.
                  No one on campus had any reason to like the campus police, and every officer who worked on the force knew it.
                  Despite having full investigative powers, the campus officers were not respected by the officers in town. There were no detectives on campus, no commissioners, and no internal affairs division. The campus police were seen as rent-a-cops carrying around fine books, earning a check for doing next to nothing. The fines that they did hand out, as often as not, were not paid until that student discovered a hold placed on his or her account that prevented registration for classes, dorm assignments, among other things. When there had been an incident of a gun going off on campus on the old soccer field, the university had been obliged to call in the state police. The student in question had brought his father's gun to college for a reason only he had known about. That had been three years ago. Ever since then, whenever Theodore encountered anyone from the local police, he received a cold aloofness that he knew came from a lack of respect. He could not be trusted to handle even a simple illegal possession charge. He was simply a glorified ticket-writer in the eyes of the officers who worked in the borough of Shippensburg.
                  It did not surprise him, therefore, that when he got the call at 8:40 in the morning that a student had turned up dead, he had not been invited to survey the scene to determine if the incident should be put down as a possible homicide or as an accident. Despite having served for fifteen years as an officer for the Harrisburg City Police Department—a beat where homicide was not uncommon—all of that had been forgotten when it came time for the university to handle the situation. If his services would be required, he would be asked by someone directly. He decided that he would not force himself upon the scene just to get in a pissing match over jurisdiction. By rule, everything that happened on the campus fell under the jurisdiction of the campus police. In practice, the town police and the state police were called upon to deal with serious situations, rare as they were.
                  When another call came in at 9:37 in the morning, he thought that he had finally been asked to weigh in upon the matter. The call came from the Office of Social Equity,