Mystery of the Midnight Rider

  “Good point.” I couldn’t help feeling dubious. “But if he’s the culprit, why would he just blurt all that info out to us? I mean, he pretty much handed us his motive on a silver platter.”

  “Guilty conscience?” George suggested.

  We’d reached the barn exit by then. Bess paused in the doorway, squinting against the sunlight streaming in from outside. “No, maybe Nancy’s right,” she said. “Mickey seemed genuinely surprised and upset when he saw that powder in Midnight’s bucket just now. Either he’s a really good actor . . .”

  “Or he’s not the one who put it there,” I finished for her. “Besides, I just thought of something else. Mickey said it’s the trainer who gets suspended when a horse fails a drug test. Not the owner or rider. So Dana would be the one going down. Would Mickey really want to get his boss suspended from showing? Seems like that could be bad for his own income.”

  “I don’t know,” George said. “But I just remembered something else. Mickey was hanging around when Payton took Midnight out to graze yesterday. But then when we came back after the tomato incident, he was nowhere in sight. Remember? Payton handed Midnight off to another groom.”

  “So what?” Bess said.

  “So what if Mickey was out in the parking lot convincing those PAN loonies to tomato-bomb a certain big bay horse?” George said. “It could’ve all been part of his plan to scare Payton into quitting so Midnight would get a chance to go lounge in a field or whatever.”

  I sighed. “The more we talk about Mickey as a suspect, the more far-fetched it seems,” I said. “I mean, I could maybe see him slipping something into Midnight’s feed or whatever, thinking he’s doing the horse a favor. But would he really follow Payton around leaving nasty notes, or convince someone to toss tomatoes, or slash up a saddle, or let a bunch of other horses loose?”

  “Who knows?” George shrugged. “We don’t know the guy. Maybe he’s a secret psycho.”

  I didn’t respond. I’d just noticed someone hurrying past outside. “Hey,” I said, lowering my voice. “Isn’t that Jessica Watts?”

  “Where?” George turned to look. “Yeah, that’s her. What’s she doing hanging around this barn?”

  “Good question.” I watched as Jessica disappeared around the corner. “I mean, it’s a public place, so it’s probably a coincidence. Maybe her horses are in this barn too. Maybe she has friends in this barn. Maybe she’s looking for the bathroom.”

  “Or maybe she’s sneaking out after tampering with Midnight’s feed bucket,” George said. “Let’s follow her and see where she goes.”

  I didn’t have any better plan to suggest, so I nodded. “Stay back so she doesn’t see us,” I warned as we hurried off in the direction the girl had gone.

  George tossed me an amused look. “What, do you think this is our first stakeout?” she joked.

  “Shh!” Bess warned as we rounded the corner. “There she is.”

  We tailed Jessica halfway across the show grounds. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Every so often she would wave to someone passing by or even pause to say hello. Finally she entered a snack bar.

  “Looks like she’s just looking for something to eat,” Bess said.

  “Maybe not.” George had darted forward to peer inside through a window. “Look who she’s talking to now!”

  Bess and I joined her at the window. “Oh!” Bess exclaimed softly. “It’s that nasty trainer—what’s his name again?”

  “Lenny Hood.” I gripped the edge of the window as I stared inside. Payton and Lenny Hood were standing at the back of the small restaurant, heads bent together as they talked. I couldn’t see Jessica’s face, but Lenny’s expression was focused and intense.

  “I wish we could hear what they’re saying,” Bess murmured.

  “Me too,” I said. “What if they’re in cahoots, working together to frame Payton for that drug violation?”

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” George said. “With Payton out of the picture, Jessica would have a better shot at some of those ribbons. And the prize money that goes with them.”

  “Lenny Hood’s students, too,” Bess agreed. “Think we can get any closer?”

  “Not without them seeing us,” I said. “Let’s just wait and see what they do next.”

  We didn’t have long to wait. Within minutes, Jessica and Lenny were leaving the snack bar. My friends and I stayed hidden around the corner, though it probably wasn’t necessary, since neither of our culprits so much as glanced our way before hurrying off in opposite directions.

  “Now what?” Bess asked. “Should we split up and follow them?”

  I didn’t answer for a second. I’d just spotted another familiar face wandering into view across the way. “Look,” I said. “Isn’t that Cal Kidd?”

  Bess gasped. “What’s he doing here? I thought he wasn’t at the show today.”

  “That’s what his neighbor told me,” I said. “Looks like she was wrong.”

  “So what do you want to do?” George glanced after Lenny, who was almost out of sight already. “If we don’t hurry, we’ll lose track of all of them.”

  “I’ll follow Cal,” I decided quickly. “You guys take the other two, okay?”

  I rushed off, leaving it to them to work out the details. Cal was strolling along with his hands in his pockets, not seeming in any particular hurry. It was easy to keep him in sight as he wandered along the paths, pausing once to watch a pony trotting around in one of the schooling rings and again to pat a free-ranging dog.

  Finally I realized he was heading toward the big old-fashioned wooden barn, where his show stalls were located. I waited until he’d disappeared inside, then cautiously entered myself. It was busier in there than it had been earlier in the day, and I had no trouble making my way to the back section without Cal noticing me.

  I hid in the hayloft with a view of Cal’s area and waited to see what he did next. For a while, that wasn’t much. He puttered around for a good twenty minutes—first checking on each of his horses, then sweeping the aisle by his stalls. Finally he grabbed a magazine with a horse on the cover, sat down on a tack trunk, and started flipping through the pages.

  Sneaking a peek at my watch, I wondered what to do. By the looks of things, I could stand here all day and see nothing important. Why waste time when every second counted? Still, Cal was on the suspect list. I had to figure out whether he needed to stay there.

  That meant it was time to stop spying and take some action. I climbed down from my hiding place and walked right over to Cal.

  “Hello,” I said. “You’re Cal Kidd, right?”

  He glanced up from his magazine. “That’s me. And you are?”

  “My name’s Nancy,” I said. “I’m, uh, a journalism student. I’m here interviewing people at this horse show as part of a class project.”

  “Cool.” Cal’s smile was polite but a little distant. “So lay it on me. What do you want to know?”

  I scanned my mind for a good opening question that wouldn’t make him suspicious. “Um, you’re a jumper rider, right? What made you get into that?”

  “It’s kind of a family thing.” Cal tossed aside the magazine and stood, stepping over to pat the nearest of his horses. He had only a couple of inches on me, though he was so lean that he seemed taller. “My mom rode when my sister and I were kids, and we just kind of followed along in her footsteps. Or boot steps. Whatever.” He grinned.

  I had to admit he was kind of charming. No wonder he’d had so many clients and admirers before his fall from grace. Then again, I’d learned long ago that appearances could be deceiving. Some of the worst criminals I’d nabbed—or that Dad had helped convict—could seem like the most agreeable people in the world.

  “Okay,” I said. “What’s your favorite thing about the sport?”

  “The horses, of course. Though the speed and thrill aren’t bad, either.” Cal glanced at me. “Hey, don’t you need to, like, write this down or record it or something? I’m feeding you
pearls of wisdom here!” His grin faded slightly as he studied my face. “Wait a minute, you look kind of familiar—didn’t I see you hanging around with Payton Evans yesterday?”

  Oops. I hadn’t realized he’d even seen us by the ring after Payton’s round. “Um, yeah,” I said. “I was interviewing her, too.”

  “Hmm.” Suddenly Cal looked a lot less friendly. “Well, here’s some more info for your class project. The big-time show-jumping world is a tough business, not a game of My Little Pony, okay?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” I backed away, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

  His eyes narrowed. “I mean it’s no place for little girls,” he growled. “You can tell your friend Payton Evans that the next time you interview her. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

  He stalked off, glowering, and disappeared around the corner. I collapsed against the wall, my heart pounding. I knew I should probably follow him to see where he was going. But after the threat he’d just made, I was none too eager to face him again.

  “If it was a threat,” I murmured to myself, still not quite sure what had just happened. Either way, his reaction was weird enough to keep his name on the suspect list for sure.

  “Here she comes,” George said.

  Following her gaze, I saw Bess jogging toward us. We were behind the show office again. I’d texted both my friends after leaving Cal’s barn, telling them to meet me there whenever they were finished.

  “I hope you guys found out something interesting.” Bess was huffing and puffing as she reached us. “Because my detective work was a total bust.”

  “Really? What happened?” I asked.

  Bess leaned against the wall to catch her breath. “Nothing, pretty much,” she said. “Lenny went back to his barn and talked on his cell phone for a while. Not about anything interesting, as far as I could hear. Then he went over to one of the rings to watch some of his students ride. He was still there when I left.”

  “Okay.” I turned to George. She’d arrived just moments before Bess, so we hadn’t had a chance to compare notes yet. “What about you?” I asked.

  “I followed Jessica back to her barn,” George said. “She sat down on a tack trunk and started texting, so I got bored and took a look around.”

  Bess snorted. “Some detective you are, Ms. Short Attention Span.”

  George ignored her. “Anyway, I ended up chatting with Jessica’s trainer. And guess what I found out?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “It turns out Jessica might be a jerk, but she’s not our culprit.” George looked pleased with herself. “Because she wasn’t even at the show where Midnight got tested.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Positive. The trainer lady knew exactly which show I was talking about. I guess she’s friends with Dana—she’d just heard the gossip and seemed pretty bummed out that Midnight might get suspended. She said the rest of the barn was at the show in question, but Jessica had the flu or something that week.”

  “Interesting.” I twirled a lock of hair around my finger as I tried to fit this piece into the puzzle.

  Bess was frowning. “So this means Jessica couldn’t be our culprit, right?” she said. “She wasn’t around to slip something into Midnight’s food at that show.”

  “Right,” I said. “Unless she really is in cahoots with Lenny Hood, of course.”

  “Oh, right.” George’s face fell. “I forgot about that.”

  “Actually, with all the weird stuff that’s happening, it’s seeming more and more likely that there could be more than one culprit at work,” I said. “That would certainly make it easier to make all the pieces fit.”

  “Okay,” Bess said. “So what do we do now?”

  “I’m not sure.” I glanced at the sky, which was showing streaks of red. “It’s getting late, and the show will be winding down for the night pretty soon. Maybe we should find Payton and see what she wants to do.”

  My phone buzzed before my friends could respond. It was a text from Ned, asking where we were. Oops. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten to update him in a while.

  I let him know where we were, and he was there within minutes. “What have you been up to all day?” Bess asked him. “Planning some romantic getaway for your anniversary?”

  “Actually, yes.” Ned grinned and winked, then turned to take my hand. “I’m officially sweeping you away with me.”

  “Huh?” I said.

  “Since we had to cancel our picnic, I want to make it up to you,” Ned said. “I’m taking you out to dinner. What do you say?”

  “Picnic? What picnic?” Bess asked.

  Ned ignored her. “So how’s Italian sound?” he asked, squeezing my hand.

  My stomach grumbled, and I realized I’d forgotten to eat lunch. “It sounds fantastic.” I glanced at my friends. “Can you guys finish up here without me? We should probably check in with Payton, and—”

  “Go.” Bess gave me a little shove. “Have a nice time.” She pulled me back toward her, gave a sniff, and wrinkled her nose. “But for Pete’s sake, stop off at home and take a shower first. You smell like a horse!”

  “This is nice,” I said, reaching for my water glass. The ice cubes clinked against the crystal as I took a sip. I glanced around. We were seated in the crowded dining room of the most popular Italian restaurant in River Heights. “I can’t believe you actually got us a table here on a Friday night.”

  Across from me, Ned looked happy and handsome as he lifted his own water glass in a toast. “Only the best for you,” he said with a wink. Then he chuckled. “But seriously, it’s only because my mom plays tennis with the owner. Don’t tell Bess that, though.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me.” My smile faded as I returned my attention to my pasta. It was delicious, even though I could barely remember ordering it. In fact, I’d spent most of the two-plus hours since leaving the show grounds only half-focused on what I was doing. The rest of my mind kept returning to the case. The Grand Prix was tomorrow night, and I had no idea when the powers that be would make their decision about whether Payton and Midnight could still enter. If I didn’t figure something out fast, there was a chance Payton could miss her chance to impress the Olympic chef d’équipe. And I didn’t want that to happen if I could help it.

  It took me a moment to realize that Ned had said something. Blinking, I shot him a sheepish smile. “What? Um, sorry. Guess I’m a little distracted.”

  He looked sympathetic. “I hear you. I’m worried about Payton too.”

  I reached over and squeezed his hand, grateful as always that he was so understanding about my sleuthing. “Thanks. It’s just that we don’t have much time, and—”

  “I know.” Ned speared a meatball with his fork. “I called Mom and Dad to tell them Dana would be dropping Payton off when they finished for the day. They asked how everything went, but I didn’t mention that slashed-up saddle. Now I’m wondering it it’s a mistake to keep it from them. Whoever did that has some serious anger issues.”

  “Maybe Payton will tell them when she gets home,” I said.

  “Maybe.” Ned sounded dubious. “But she’s the one who didn’t even want to tell her parents about that note.” He sighed, setting down his fork. “I’m thinking it might be almost time to bring in the police.”

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t really disagree with his point.

  “Things just aren’t coming together,” I mused, staring at my plate. “There are a lot of people on our suspect list, but none of them quite fits all the evidence.”

  “I know. Like that girl Jessica—she’s got a motive, but she wasn’t at the show where Midnight got drugged,” Ned said. “Plus, could she really sneak into Dana’s barn in broad daylight to slash that saddle or tamper with Midnight’s feed without anyone seeing her?”

  “I’m not sure. We did see her outside right after those horses were let loose. But what about those threatening notes? I’m not even
sure she’s old enough to drive—how would she follow Payton all the way back to your house?”

  “Unless she’s teaming up with that other trainer like you said,” Ned said.

  I nodded. I’d filled Ned in on our latest theories on the ride over. “These big-time trainers all seem to attend most of the same shows, so I’m guessing Lenny was probably at the one in question,” I said. “But everyone says he’s super successful in the show world. Would he really risk his whole reputation on this kind of garbage, just to take out a teenager?”

  Ned shrugged. “Okay, change of pace—how about those animal protester people?”

  “You mean PAN?” We’d passed the protesters on our way out of the show, though I’d noticed that Annie Molina wasn’t with them. “I don’t know. I’m not sure they’d be likely to target any particular person, and so far everything seems to be aimed at Payton.”

  “Good point.” Ned reached for the salt. “They did throw that tomato, though, right?”

  “Yeah, but we’re wondering if someone put them up to it.” That made me realize we’d never followed up on that particular angle. I made a mental note to try to talk to Annie or one of her cohorts the next day.

  “Okay,” Ned said. “So other than Lenny and Jessica, who else have you got? What about that Cal Kidd guy? Or Dana? Or the groom?”

  “All still on the list.” I sighed. “It’s just that none of them quite . . . hold on.” My phone was buzzing from my purse. Fishing it out, I saw that I’d just received a text. It was from Payton:

  NANCY, SORRY 2 BOTHER U—I’M STILL AT THE SHOW, EVERYONE ELSE WENT HOME, & NOW I THINK SOMEONE IS STALKING ME!

  CHAPTER TEN

  Signing Statement

  “CAN’T YOU DRIVE ANY FASTER?” I COMPLAINED, gripping the armrest of Ned’s car.

  “Not without breaking the sound barrier.” Ned spun the steering wheel, sending his car screeching into the fairgrounds’ parking lot. It was a much different sight from the one we’d left a couple of hours earlier. Only a few cars were still parked there, along with several large horse trailers hulking in the pale floodlights positioned here and there throughout the lot.