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

which had two people and one intern, none of whom had ever made any significant difference on campus for as long as Theodore had been around. As far as he was concerned, the office had been created to placate some disadvantaged person or other and had not been abolished for reasons owing to the university's already poor public image. The people there softened the blows, instead of stopping blows from coming.
                  The woman who ran the office, named Melinda Rumberger, was possessed of a smooth, calm voice that went up in pitch the more she felt provoked or panicked. That had been more often than Theodore had cared to admit, for he, unlike the other officers on campus, had often been invited to have discussions with the administrative staff about improving conditions at the university. From the first meeting, Theodore had suggested that Shippensburg break off from the PASSHE system and become, if not completely financially independent, then at least closer to being in control of their own destiny. The state government of Pennsylvania held the purse strings of the university; as such, bureaucrats and politicians alone decided how much money would be given out. That, he felt, was the root of all the problems which had plagued Shippensburg for the duration of his employment. He had received dull, blank stares from everyone gathered around the large table. When Theodore kept his head up through the long, drawn-out silence, the administrators in the room looked away, or focused on the food they had brought with them. This had especially been the case for Dr. Rumberger, who turned her entire body away from him as though she didn't want to listen to anything he had to say.
                  After that sunny day in late September, he continued to attend the meetings out of courtesy. He never ventured an opinion, and always spoke as briefly as possible when called upon. Though he never allowed his irritation to creep into his manner or his tone of voice, it always came to the surface whenever he had anything to do with the administrators. He cleared his throat and picked up the phone on the third ring, looking at the unique four digits at the end of the telephone number on his caller ID that identified the office from which the call originated.
                  A shrill voice came over on the line, one which was deliberately lowered in volume. Melinda said, “Hello, is this the police station?”
                  “Good morning, this is Chief Kenny speaking, how can I help you?”
                  A heavy, relieved sigh, then the rustling of papers. “Chief Kenny, thank god. I didn't know who else to call. Everyone is away in an emergency meeting.”
                  Theodore called upon his eighteen years of experience upholding the law then. He had pulled drunks by the arm into the station who promptly puked all over the floor. He had reported to accident scenes where mangled, still living bodies had to be carried off on stretchers while passing cars slowed down to get a glimpse of the mayhem. He had raided chop shops and drug labs, each time chasing people who ran. People always ran. He had answered the call for highway chases that ended up filmed by helicopter crews, later to be released on television shows. He had also filled out a mountain of paperwork, both physical and digital, which had by turns stressed him out and exhausted him. By comparison, the concerns of college life, secluded as they were from the rest of world, always struck him as petty, even unimportant. That allowed him to be calm through everything the university threw at him, including a woman calling his office phone in the morning with urgent business.
                  He said, “Calm down, Dr. Rumberger. What's the situation there?”
                  She blurted out, “Students! Students! Hundreds of them! They're-they're-all at