I nodded. “I’ve emailed him a few times over the last few months, but I’ve never heard back from him.”
I’d first contacted Professor Piermont after I saw the strange ring that had been found in Calista’s pocket after her death. He was an expert on symbology and mythology, so if anyone could tell me what it meant, it was him.
Also, now that I knew about the Dionysus Club, I wanted to speak with him more than ever. He'd been studying and teaching history here at BHU for decades, so he had to knowsomethingabout the Club.
“Professor Piermont doesn't teach undergraduates anymore,” Weiss said. “Only postgraduate seminars. That's probably why he didn't respond.”
“I don't want to take one of his classes,” I replied. “I just want to meet with him.”
She studied me for a long moment, clearly trying to decide if I was serious. Then she turned to her computer. “May I ask why?”
I gave her my most innocent smile. “I'm a total history nerd. He wrote a journal article years ago that I'm kind of obsessed with, and I want to talk to him about it.”
Weiss's fingers hovered over her keyboard. “Well, I'm sure we can arrange something. Let me see.” She went quiet for a moment, eyes scanning her monitor. Then she looked back at me. “He finishes his Monday seminars at two o’clock, so would half past two work for you? This coming Monday?”
I nodded. “I can do that.”
“Good. I’ll reach out to him and let him know.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there anything else?”
I shook my head. “That's all.”
“All right.” She stood, and I did the same. “Someone from campus security will drive you to the Harbor Inn, or if you have your own car, you can just follow them. Your room keywill be waiting at the front desk, and we'll keep you updated on the investigation.” She paused. “And Violet? If anything else happens, call me immediately. Day or night.”
She handed me a business card with her cell number written on the back. I took it, even though I knew I wouldn't use it. Because if the Dionysus Club decided to come for me—reallycome for me—Dean Weiss wouldn't be able to stop them.
No one would.
After I was finally settledinto my room at the inn, I sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, listening to the hum of the heater and the faint whisper of rain outside. The curtains were drawn, but I still had the uneasy sense of being watched.
I knew it was just paranoia. The room was on the third floor, the door was locked, and the hotel had a decent security presence. But after waking up covered in blood, I wasn't sure I'd ever feel truly safe again.
Eventually, I grabbed my laptop and opened it on the small desk by the window.
My first search: Michael Harrier, the old dean of students at BHU.
It didn't take long to find him. A few searches brought up his LinkedIn profile, some old university press releases, and a brief mention in aBlackthorne Harbor Gazettearticle about his retirement.
After 15 years of distinguished service, Dean of Students Michael Harrier has announced his retirement from Blackthorne Harbor University, effective December 2024. "It's time to focus on family and personal pursuits," Harrier stated.
He'd only been forty-nine when he retired. That seemed pretty young for someone in such a prestigious position to just walk away from it all. But what really made my stomach tighten were the property records I found.
Last December, Harrier purchased a $2.4 million vacation home in Cape Cod. A month later, his wife bought a $1.3 million winter property in Tahoe. Neither of them had come from wealth, and there was no way their combined salaries could explain that kind of sudden fortune.
Either the Harriers had won the lottery late last year, or someone had paid them off… and I knew exactly which of those possibilities I was leaning toward.
I could picture it happening: a man in a dark suit, delivering the offer in quiet, careful words.
Turn a blind eye to the Calista Hoffman case. Take the payout. Retire early.
And Harrier had taken it. Of course he had.
That meant he was a dead end for my research. Bought, silenced, loyal to the Club.
I closed the tab and opened a new one for my next search; the girl who'd been Selected, caught in the hunt, and returned to campus a couple of months later. The one who had a complete breakdown and ended up institutionalized.
