Free Voices Carry by Mariah Stewart Page B

she’d heard.
    With her small knife, Genna cut a few stems here, a few stems there, all the while working her way closer to the depression where something clearly had flattened out a good part of several rows of flowers. Finally close enough to peer through a stand of leafy cosmos, Genna was not at all surprised to see a boy passed out atop the blooms, the front of his dark blue shirt bearing a dusting of white. Leaving her cut flowers on the ground, she reached through the dense stems to check his pulse. That his heart rate had already returned to normal was evidence that it had been some time since he’d last fed his nose with cocaine. It was the same young man she’d seen the day before—the boy they’d called Eli—and judging by the fact that he was out cold today and had been using the day before gave her an indication of just how much of a habit he’d developed.
    The scene was a study in contrasts, Genna sighed with disgust. How totally incongruous that Eli Frick would be sleeping off his cocaine high in the middle of a field of summer flowers, with bees and butterflies drifting around him.
    How, she wondered, had he been lured? What had been the bait? Had none of his family members noticed anything unusual about his behavior? And if they had, could they even begin to imagine what was causing it?
    And what exactly was this young Amish boy doing in return for the temptation that took him from his simple farm background into the world of illegal drugs and who knew what else?
    It was time to call the locals and let them know that their suspicions were right on target. After she called Decker, of course.
    Patsy was still chatting away when Genna finally returned with an armful of zinnias in every shade and a few long, graceful stems of cosmos.
    “What do I owe you for the quilt and the flowers?” Genna asked.
    “The quilt is forty dollars,” Granny Frick told her, “the flowers are free. You and Miss Wheeler will enjoy them.”
    “We will, thank you.” Genna took two twenty-dollar bills out of her wallet and exchanged them for the baby quilt. “Where’s my friend Rebecca? I’d like to thank her for the quick lesson in egg-gathering.”
    “Oh, she went on down to the stand to help her brother.” Granny Frick pointed to the roadside stand at the end of the lane.
    “Well, tell her I said thank you, if you would.”
    Genna placed the folded quilt on the backseat and her flowers on the floor, then got in behind the wheel and waited for Patsy to finish saying her good-byes to her old friend. As they waved good-bye and drove slowly down the lane, she thought how like paradise this peaceful farm was. And how, like paradise, a serpent had managed to find its way in.
    Well, it’s just going to have to be driven out, she thought as she approached the end of the lane, fighting a pang of guilt. How terrible for the Fricks to have such a thing going on in their family, and how sad that she would be the one responsible for bringing it to light. Knowing the shame that would be brought upon this fine family sickened Genna.
    A roar like thunder shattered the silence just asGenna reached the end of the lane. Four motorcycles had stopped along the shoulder of the road, their drivers now turning off their machines and heading toward the stand.
    Genna slowed to a stop, and sat for a long minute, watching.
    “Genna?” Patsy touched her arm to get her attention.
    “I was just thinking that we should have picked up another cantaloupe. And a few more tomatoes,” Genna said to Patsy without turning toward her. “Didn’t you say that you might invite your friend, the woman who is renting the house next door. . .”
    “Nancy,” Patsy supplied the name.
    “. . . that you might invite Nancy to join us for dinner one night over the weekend?”
    “Yes, but I think we have plenty left over from. . .”
    Patsy paused as Genna turned off the car and got out, watched as she sauntered up to the nearest table and began to sort