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couple of questions on a flag that came up on your history.”
    Claire stilled. The past came barreling in tocollide with the present. She should have seen this one coming, but she’d been a little busy and a whole lot terrified for the past couple of hours.
    “Six years ago you were involved in another shooting,” the detective began, clearly hesitant to bring up the subject. “There was some confusion, as you’ve changed your name since.”
    “That’s right.” The idea that anything related to that nightmare would come into play in this act of terrorism made her want to scream at the injustice of it. But she reserved judgment. As the detective said, he was only doing his job. “I kept my last name,” she said. “I wasn’t running from the law, Detective, I simply needed the anonymity of leaving Christina Grant behind.”
    When Atwood didn’t immediately launch into another question, Claire decided to save them both any further awkward moments. “My younger sister married a jerk,” she said, cutting right to the chase. “He made her life miserable. He was both mentally and physically abusive. During the final months of her pregnancy she came to live with me to get away from him.”
    “She was afraid for her life as well as that of her unborn child,” Atwood said, clearly regurgitating what he’d read in her official police record.
    Claire nodded. “One night he broke into my house. He had a gun. When he tried to kill mysister, I charged him. We struggled. The weapon discharged and he died.”
    Atwood nodded. “That’s what the report said.” His gaze met hers. “Word for word.”
    Something like doubt flickered in his eyes and Claire resisted the impulse to defend herself further. She had done what she had to do that night…she’d done it again today. God knew she hadn’t had any choice in either situation. As far as she was concerned that was good enough for her.
    She couldn’t regret the actions that had saved the lives of innocent people.
    “Is there anything else, Detective?” She stood. Her legs were still a little unsteady, but she wanted out of here. The sooner the better.
    Atwood shook his head.
    When Claire was about to walk away, he said, “Just so you know, Miss Grant…”
    Reluctantly, she turned back to him. She didn’t want this to be a warning not to leave town. She’d weathered far too much gossip and suspicion six years ago. She shouldn’t have to tolerate it now, especially considering the reason for today’s events.
    “You did the right thing,” Atwood allowed. “Then and now.”
    The sincerity of his words was reflected in his eyes. All signs of doubt or suspicion were gone.
    Any resentment or irritation she’d felt ebbedaway. She nodded and resumed her retreat. She wanted to go home. She was completely exhausted. A long hot bath and sleep were the only two things on her agenda.
    Darlene waited for her in the hall. “Are you okay?” She rushed up and hugged Claire. “God, I was so scared.”
    Claire held on to her friend, thankful to be alive. “I can’t believe this happened.”
    Darlene drew back and gave her a smile. “You did good, girlfriend. You saved those kids. Don’t let anybody tell you differently. I was out there.” She jerked her head toward the front of the building. “They didn’t know what the hell they were going to do to save you guys. No one thought there would be any survivors.”
    Claire’s knees buckled this time. Her friend caught her. “Let’s get you home,” Darlene suggested. “I’ll get your car to you later.”
    “I need my purse.”
    Darlene banged on Claire’s classroom door and had one of the officers bring her purse out of the room. Her classroom was now a crime scene awaiting thorough forensics investigation. When her purse was in her hand, Claire wasn’t surprised to find that it had been thoroughly searched. But what came next was something else Claire should have seen coming but didn’t.
    Reporters. Hundreds of