Where Petals Fall by Melissa Foster Page B

girl.”
    Junie’s stomach turned. Little girls didn’t just disappear—did they? She thought of Sarah and how quickly her personality disappeared. She pushed aside the ache of missing that unique spark of her daughter and wondered where she should look next.

Chapter Fifteen
    Junie pulled onto the highway, heading back toward her mother’s house. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the memories of Ellen meant something. She glanced at her cell phone, wondering why she hadn’t heard from Brian. She picked it up and speed-dialed his number. It went straight to voice mail. She called his office.
    “Hi, Stacy. It’s Junie. Is Brian in?”
    The young receptionist’s voice sang out in a breathy falsetto pitch. “Not yet, Mrs. Olson. He called and said he left your parents’ house late, so he’d be in later in the afternoon.”
    Junie hung up the phone, wondering why her husband had lied and where he had gone. Could he have been too upset to go to work? She checked for missed calls—none. She wondered if something had happened, a car accident, maybe, then realized that she’d have been notified. Too annoyed to go back to her mother’s house, Junie decided to pay a visit to the Gettysburg police department. Maybe they could clarify who the persons of interest were in Ellen’s case, and she could get the notion of her father being involved out of her head.
    Clouds moved across the sky, shading the sun and casting an ominous gray to the previously sunny day. Junie wondered if it might rain. She shivered, thinking of her father in the coffin, rain pelting the ground above him. “Okay, Junie, enough of that,” she told herself. An hour and twenty minutes later, thanks to her heavy foot, she pulled into the police station parking lot.
    Deputy Lyle sat behind a giant wooden and metal desk, the same desk that Junie remembered from her youth, when he had been Officer Lyle. He’d gone gray around the temples, and his once slim waist had expanded with age, but his welcoming grin and friendly eyes remained.
    “Juniebug, how are you?”
    “Well, I’m thirty-one, for one thing, so not really a bug anymore,” she joked.
    “Heck, you’ll always be that smiling little girl who came into the station with her father, reporting a car that didn’t stop for a passing turtle.”
    Junie sat in a metal chair across the desk from Deputy Lyle, feeling twelve years old again. She looked around the familiar police station, remembering the day her father had brought her in to report the turtle incident. He’d held her hand in his. He hadn’t wanted to bring her in. He’d told her it wasn’t an offense to not stop for a turtle, but she’d insisted. Her father had spent the next two weeks making Turtle Crossing signs with Junie and posting them up on trees around their neighborhood.
    “I’m sorry about your dad. He was a good man.”
    Junie looked down at her lap. Her heart swelled with pride. Guilt tamped at that swelling. Of course he was. I’m such an idiot . “Thank you.”
    “How’s your mom holding up?”
    “Oh, you know, as well as to be expected. Dad’s death was so sudden, it’s still really fresh. She’s not really used to it—none of us are.”
    “I don’t think we ever get used to it.” He leaned forward on the desk. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure? I haven’t seen you since you brought that beautiful baby girl around.”
    Junie fiddled with her keys. Her face flushed. “Sarah. She’s four now.” Junie didn’t want to talk about Sarah. When people asked how Sarah was, Junie had to decide if she was going to say all positive things, which is what most people wanted to hear—she’s happy, loves school, has tons of friends—or if she was going to say the truth—I think she’s happy, she only speaks to me, she isn’t really accepted easily by other children, she wets her bed and sucks her thumb. Oh, and her dad wants to label her as emotionally disturbed. “I’ve been thinking about Ellen