Michael tried to control his anger.

It wasn’t her lies. It was that she didn’t trust him with the truth. It cut him to the core to read in her notes about the symbol painted in blood on her door. That mixed with what he overheard of her conversation, her theft from his office of the student files and what he saw in her notebook convinced him she was putting herself in danger by investigating these murders on her own. But why? And why hadn’t she reached out to him when she first was threatened?

He should be fair in this. Not everyone was trained to assess situations as well as character from a first meeting. Not everyone had their instincts honed from years of battle. He shouldn’t blame her for not knowing he could be trusted based on their brief acquaintance. It wasn’t fair of him to expect it of her.

Problem was…he wasn’t in a fair mood. He was in a vengeful one.

And he wanted answers.

* * *

“Well, this certainly is a surprise, Colonel. I’m sorry for not getting up to the school myself to greet you properly. We’ve just been a bit short-handed as of late.”

Michael waved away Sheriff Stevens’ apologies. “No need, Sheriff. We’re both busy men, which is why I would like to get straight to the point.”

The sheriff was a tall, lanky man of about sixty. With his large, white handlebar mustache, he gave the impression of belonging more in the old western frontier than a small bay village in Massachusetts. With a nod of understanding, he motioned for Michael to join him in his office. “Dolores, don’t bug me,” called out the sheriff before shutting the door. Michael smiled, liking the man instantly.

Sheriff Stevens placed two coffee mugs on his desk. Opening the bottom drawer, he pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “It ain’t morning drinking if it’s medicinal,” he said with a sly wink before pouring them both a generous amount.

After taking a swallow, the sheriff leaned back in his chair. “I expect you are here to ask me about those poor women.”

“If you forgive me for saying so, Sheriff, there wasn’t much of an investigation by your department.”

Stevens gave him a rueful smile. “You don’t get to be sheriff of this area for going on twenty years by interfering with the Puller Academy’s business, son.”

“Still, I’m sure you have your opinions.”

Stevens gave Michael an assessing look, then took another swallow of bourbon. “You’re not their typical superintendent. Usually I’m sitting across from an old salt admiral who just wants a soft assignment to ride out till retirement.”

“The military will always be needed, but in order to stay relevant to truly fulfill its purpose to society, it needs to accept new ideas and be open to new perspectives. That starts, I believe with the officers and how they are educated before taking on their first post. I realized early in my military career that my education at Puller was one of the most impactful as far as shaping me as a leader. After my last tour, I decided it was the best possible way for me to do my part.”

The sheriff nodded his head. After a long, thoughtful pause, he said, “We were first on the scene. The murders happened just off campus so the academy wasn’t involved at that point. I’m sure you’ve seen the official report.”

Michael nodded his head. “Stripped and strangled. No sign of sexual assault. Liver missing. Carving of a satanic symbol. I know once the academy got involved, the police were pulled out. I will tell you there was an extensive investigation done, at least when it came to a possible midshipman’s involvement. There were two suspected students initially, but it proved to be nothing. I’ll be frank with you, that is all my report contains on the subject. That and instructions to increase security around campus.”

The sheriff shook his head and leaned back in his chair. He poured himself another finger of bourbon before continuing. “There was something not right about that whole scene. You know, besides the gruesome Satan shit.”

“In what way?”

“In the autopsy, it mentioned post-mortem scratches on their backs. Seems to me that meant they were dragged onto the rock. Because the women were naked, everyone assumed it was a man who’d done it. These were two slight women. Seems to me a man wouldn’t have to drag them onto the rock. Just place em there.”

But a woman would, thought Michael, recalling Phoebe’s notes on Mrs. Ludtz being a possible suspect. This was a small town, Michael wasn’t sure if the sheriff knew or would be loyal to Mrs. Ludtz, and he didn’t want to ruin the woman’s reputation with a false accusation, especially with something as serious as murder.

“Were there any female suspects?” he asked evasively.

The sheriff shook his head. “Nah. Never got that far. Navy swept in and took over. Claimed it was close enough to the academy that they wanted jurisdiction. Like I said, no point in getting in a pissing match over it, especially when I don’t have the staff or resources to investigate two murders.”

Sounded about right, no one wanted a scandal. It was better to blame a faceless drifter and play the odds it was an isolated incident.

Michael rose and extended his hand. “Thank you, Sheriff. You’ve been helpful.”

Shaking his hand, the sheriff added, “I can’t see how the academy or the Navy would appreciate you poking around this, son. You’re going to make some people awful angry.”

“Well, at least these angry people won’t be trying to kill me with a homemade pipe bomb or Soviet-era gun, so I consider it an improvement to my last assignment.”

He left the sheriff’s office with another target in mind. It was past time he confronted his little lying princess.

Michael turned up the collar of his wool overcoat and grabbed the rim of his cover as he walked away from his car. The wind off the bay had picked up. Looking to the sky, he saw fierce black rainclouds gathering. It was going to be one hell of a storm. Holding the flaps of his collar closed, he made his way back to the main building. The dark chaos of the weather matched his mood.

All he cared about was finding Phoebe and getting some fucking answers. That was when he saw his quarry.

She was headed toward the school library.