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Exactly what he’d feared.

He sent one deputy inside to speak with the principal while the other helped him direct the students back into the building. Most went without complaint, although a couple asked what was happening. He told them they were expecting some unwanted visitors and everyone needed to head inside. Once the entrance was clear, he had Deputy Markham position his cruiser at the edge of the parking lot near the street, where anyone approaching the school could see it.

Deputy Zigler and Principal Erin O’Leary emerged a few moments later and joined Grady near the doors. He’d known Erin for years. Her younger sister had been in his class throughout school, starting in kindergarten.

“Hi, Grady. Your dispatcher said someone’s following Ms. Sparks?”

“Photographers. She’s been driving around town to keep them away from here.” He checked the road beyond the parking lot. “I’m going to have her come in now. We’ll deal with whoever follows her and warn them not to trespass or take photos of the kids. You may want to send a message to the parents through the alert system.”

“Good idea. I’ll take care of it.”

As Erin headed back inside, Grady told Zigler to position his patrol car near Markham’s, then called Amanda.

“Tell me you’re not about to give me another driving lecture,” she answered with a wry laugh.

“Not unless you’ve earned one. Come in through the main entrance. We’re ready for you.”

“I’m about three minutes away.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He slipped the phone into his pocket and walked over to Markham and Zigler, who stood beside their cruisers, watching the road. He’d dealt with local and state reporters before, usually after an accident or a serious crime, but this was different. Those people had reasons to ask questions about what had happened in his county. The ones following Amanda today were chasing a celebrity story, and he doubted they cared much about who they might inconvenience along the way.

Her aunt’s brown pickup truck appeared first.

Four vehicles followed.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Markham muttered.

Grady shared the sentiment. He’d hoped seeing the marked sheriff’s vehicles would persuade the drivers to keep going. Instead, the first car followed her onto school property, and the other three came in right behind it.

Apparently, they were going to make this difficult.

With most of the spaces closer to the school already taken by seniors and staff, Amanda pulled into an open one near the street.

Grady headed toward her as the vehicles following her stopped wherever their drivers could find room, some blocking empty spaces and others jutting into the driving lanes. Doors flew open, and their occupants climbed out carrying cameras, phones, and microphones.

Markham and Zigler immediately moved to intercept them while Grady continued toward the pickup. He reached it just as Amanda opened the driver’s door and stepped out with her bag.

“Come on. I’ll get you inside.”

He took hold of her elbow and guided her toward the school at a brisk pace, fast enough to put some distance between them and the reporters without making her run.

“Amanda! Is it true you were arrested for reckless driving?”

“Are you doing community service here?”

“Did the network know about your arrest?”

“Is the show filming your sentence?”

The questions came from behind the deputies, who kept the reporters from going after her. Camera shutters clicked, and voices grew louder with every step they took toward the school. Neither broke stride nor acknowledged a single question.

Then someone shouted, “Sheriff Minor! Why are you giving the woman you arrested special treatment?”

So they’d done their homework. It wouldn’t have taken much. The arrest was public information, and anyone could request the department’s records online and learn he’d taken her into custody. Add in his photo on the sheriff’s office website, and identifying him wouldn’t have been difficult.

Amanda faltered at that question.