Page 42 of Forever Dead

“Morning. Can I help you?”

Connor showed his badge. “Sheriff Connor Chase. I need to speak with Principal May.”

Her expression changed at the badge. “Is this about Miss Marsh?”

“It is.”

“She taught my sister.” The receptionist’s voice softened. “Awful thing.”

Connor nodded. “It is.”

“I’ll message him.”

She typed on the computer, waited for a response, then pointed toward a door beyond the inner office. “Go on in. He says he can see you now.”

“Thank you.”

Vincent May’s office was larger than Connor remembered any principal’s office needing to be. Framed certificates covered one wall. A polished trophy case occupied another, packed with cups and plaques spanning several decades.

Vincent rose from behind the desk.

He was Connor’s age. Time had thickened him through the waist and thinned his hair, but Connor recognized the same careful smile from school.

“Connor Chase.”

“Vincent.”

“Been a long time since you came through these doors.”

“Not long enough.”

Vincent laughed politely. “Take a seat.”

Connor crossed toward the chair. His reflection appeared in the glass of the trophy case.

His uniform shirt filled the reflection; the badge fixed over his chest and the duty belt at his waist.

A man of authority.

He almost grimaced.

Vincent May had spent much of high school making smaller kids miserable whenever teachers were not around to stop him. Connor had fought him once behind the gym after Vincent shoved a freshman into a locker.

Now Vincent ran the school.

Connor wondered why bullies so often ended up in positions where other people had to ask permission.

Then the badge in the glass caught the light, and the thought became less comfortable.

Connor sat.

Vincent folded his hands on the desk. “I assume you’re here about Eleanor.”

“I need some background. Particularly anything involving disputes, threats, or disciplinary incidents during her career.”

Concern moved across Vincent’s expression. “You think this came from the school?”

“I’m checking possibilities.”