Mystery of the Midnight Rider (4 page)

Taking Note

“WHAT IS THIS?” MR. NICKERSON FROWNED and glanced around at the group. "Is this someone’s idea of a joke? Because it’s not very funny.”

"What is it, dear?” His wife hurried over.

I stepped toward my friends. "You know how you were teasing me about trying to find a mystery earlier?” I said quietly. "Well, I think one just found me. Or us. Or Payton, to be exact.”

Payton wandered toward us just in time to hear her name. "What are you talking about, Nancy?” She sounded confused. "What’s going on?”

I didn’t get a chance to answer. Mrs. Nickerson swept over and dragged Payton off toward the house, while Mr. Nickerson called for attention.

"Something just came up,” he told his friends and neighbors. "We need to talk privately with Payton for a few minutes.” He handed the tongs he was holding to one of the men. "Rick, can
“Something just came up,” he told his friends and neighbors. “We need to talk privately with Payton for a few minutes.” He handed the tongs he was holding to one of the men. "Rick, can you see about getting Bertha started?”

"Well, I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try,” the man replied with a smile.

Mr. Nickerson thanked him and headed for the door. He paused and glanced at me. “Nancy, maybe you should join us.”

“Right behind you,” I said, following him into the house.

Ned, Bess, and George came too. “Is everything all right?” Bess asked. "What happened?”

“Mr. Nickerson found a threatening note in the grill,” I said. "It’s addressed to Payton.”

Mr. Nickerson nodded. He handed the note to Ned, who read it with Bess and George looking over his shoulder.

"Whoa,” George said.

Mr. Nickerson grabbed the note back. "I think we’d better call Payton’s parents.”

“And the police, as well,” Mrs. Nickerson added.

“No, wait!” Payton’s face had gone pale. “Please don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to worry.”

"That’s sweet, dear,” Mrs. Nickerson said. “But they’ll want to
know their only daughter could be in danger.”

"You don’t understand.” Payton bit her lip. "My parents are always pushing me to be the best. They wouldn’t want me to get scared off by some random jerk trying to steal my focus.” She smiled, though it looked forced. "They’d probably trot out that old line about how sticks and stones might break my bones, but words can never hurt me.”

Mrs. Nickerson frowned. “Nonsense,” she said. "I know your parents always encourage you to do your best, but your safety is more important than anything, and I’m sure they’d agree. Hand me that phone,” she ordered her husband.

"But what if this is just some kind of prank?” George spoke up. "Like one of Payton’s fellow riders trying to psych her out or something?”

I guessed she was thinking about that girl from the schooling ring earlier. "It’s possible,” I mused aloud. “Someone from the show grounds could’ve followed Payton here and planted that note.”

Mrs. Nickerson’s eyes widened in alarm. “All the more reason to notify the police!” she exclaimed.

“Or maybe you just need to notify someone who might actually be able to figure out what’s going on.” George pointed at me.

“Done.”

Mr. Nickerson raised an eyebrow. “She has a point,” he said to his wife.

"Yeah,” Ned agreed. "There’s no point getting Mr. and Mrs. Evans all riled up over nothing. Let’s let Nancy look into it first. If it’s just some prankster or crazy competitor, she’ll figure it out.”

His mother glanced at me, seeming uncertain. "Well...”

Meanwhile, Payton just looked confused. "Let Nancy look into it?” she said. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, right.” Bess smiled. “Payton doesn’t know about our local sleuthing prodigy.”

She and the others took turns explaining. Payton listened, nodding along but still looking skeptical.

"Nancy Drew, girl detective—I know it sounds weird, right?” Ned finished with a chuckle. "But trust me, Payton. If anyone can help you, it’s Nancy.”

"I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give her a chance to look into it a bit,” Mrs. Nickerson said slowly. She glanced at her husband, who nodded.

"It’s worth a try,” Mr. Nickerson said. “But if you can’t clear things up quickly, Nancy—or if you sense any real danger—we’ll definitely be calling in the troops.” He put a hand on Payton’s
shoulder. “And I want you to be careful until we know what’s going on, all right? We’ll keep an eye on you while you’re here, of course. But you might want to mention this to your trainer, so she can keep an extra-close watch while you’re at the show.”

“Ned and I were planning to spend the day at the show tomorrow anyway,” I said. "We can help keep a lookout.”

“And we can come help,” Bess said, and George nodded.

"Thanks, you guys.” Payton sounded grateful. "I’m sure this is nothing. Really.”

"All right.” Mrs. Nickerson still didn’t sound completely convinced. "We’ll give this a chance. But please let us know if you un-cover anything worrisome, Nancy.” She stood up. "Now we’d better get back out there before our other guests think we’ve abandoned them.”

She hurried outside with her husband right behind her. Bess, George, and Payton headed out too. I started to follow, but Ned stopped me with a hand on the arm.

"I have a confession to make,” he said once we were alone. "I, um, wasn’t planning on taking you to the horse show tomorrow.”

"You weren’t? But I thought—”

"I know I told you that was the plan.” He shrugged, looking sheepish. “But I was actually going to whisk you off for a romantic
picnic at Cliff View Park instead. You know—for our anniversary.” "You were?” I was touched. "That sounds amazing. Even Bess would be impressed.”

He laughed. “Yeah, it was killing me today not to just tell her so she'd get off my back,” he said. “But I wanted it to be a surprise.” "I’m surprised.” I smiled and stood on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you.”

“But that’s what I’m saying.” Ned sounded troubled. “I don’t think we can go. Not with this Payton business hanging over our heads. I’m worried about her. Plus, you just pretty much promised my folks we’d be at that horse show all day tomorrow.”

I cocked an eyebrow. "Or at least all day until we solve the mystery. What if we get there early and wrap it up before lunchtime? Then we could still have our picnic in the afternoon.”

That made Ned look happier. "True. Do you think you can figure it out that quickly?”

“So far the most obvious theory is that this might be a straightforward case of envy-based petty sabotage.” I shrugged. "How tricky could it be?”

*****

I yawned as I pulled my car into the show’s parking lot. It was
early—so early that I found a parking spot pretty close to the gate. Spotting a familiar car a few spots down, I pulled out my cell phone and called Ned.

"Are you here?” his cheerful voice asked after just a couple of rings. He’s definitely a morning person.

"Just got here,” I replied as I climbed out of my car. "Where are you?”

"At the bam with Payton. Mom and Dad insisted I drive her over and not let her out of my sight. They’re still pretty freaked out about the whole situation.”

“I know.” I pocketed my keys. "That’s another good reason to solve this mystery as quickly as possible.”

"Yeah. Are Bess and George with you?”

"They’re meeting us here later. They didn’t see the point of getting up quite this early.” I glanced around again at the nearly empty parking lot. "They figured nobody would be around to question at the crack of dawn. And I didn’t want to tell them why I was in such a hurry.”

He chuckled. “Got it. So what’s the plan?”

"You stick with Payton,” I said. "I talk to some other people, start figuring out a suspect list. I’ll call or text if I find anything interesting.”

After we hung up, I headed for the entrance gate. Halfway there,

I heard someone calling my name. It was Annie Molina, the local activist. She was rushing toward me, her full, flowing skirt billowing out around her legs and her round face cracked into a broad smile. Her PAN cohorts from yesterday were nowhere in sight. Maybe they were sleeping in, just like Bess and George.

"Nancy Drew!” she exclaimed. "It is Nancy Drew, right? Carson Drew’s daughter, the one who’s always getting written up in the papers for solving crimes and such?” She tittered, pushing aside a lock of curly brown hair as the breeze tossed it into her face.

"Yes, that’s me. It’s Annie, right?”

"Yes!” Annie looked thrilled that I’d recognized her. "I just wanted to say hello, and to tell you a few things you might not know about horse shows like this one.”

Uh-oh. Here it came.

"I’m sorry,” I said quickly. "I really need to—”

"These horses are nothing but slaves!” Annie exclaimed dramatically. She paused and waited for my reaction.

"I see,” I answered quickly and dodged around her, heading for the entrance. "Well, thanks for the info. We’ll catch up later.”

"Wait!” she cried.

But I didn’t. I made a break for the gate, easily leaving her
behind.

Once inside, I headed toward the barn where Payton’s horses were stabled. Halfway there, I spotted Dana. She was riding a large chestnut gelding with four white stockings. I leaned on the rail to watch.

This was the first time I’d seen Dana on a horse, and I was impressed. She might come across as tense and abrupt on the ground. But all that disappeared in the saddle. She looked like a fluid part of her mount. There was a jump set up in the middle of the ring, consisting of some bright-yellow-striped rails with a planter full of flowers underneath. The horse was eyeing the obstacle nervously. Every time he got near it he spooked, jumping to the side and speeding up.

Dana didn’t react except to bring the horse back around. Again and again, until the horse was barely flicking an ear at the jump. Finally she turned him and trotted directly toward the obstacle. The horse’s ears pricked forward with alarm, and I held my breath, certain that he was going to put on the brakes.

"Get up,” Dana urged, her voice stern but calm. At the same time, she gave the horse a tap behind her leg with the crop she was holding.

The horse lurched forward, speeding up and zigzagging a bit.

But Dana kept him straight with her legs and the reins. With one last kick, she sent him leaping over the jump. He cleared it by about two feet and landed snorting and with his head straight up in the air. But Dana calmly circled around and came again. By the fifth or sixth time, the horse was jumping calmly.

As she brought the gelding to a walk and gave him a pat, Dana noticed me standing there. “Hello,” she said, riding over. "You’re Payton’s friend. Uh, Lucy, right?”

"Nancy,” I corrected. I smiled and nodded at the horse. "Looks like you were making him face his fears.”

Dana chuckled and stroked the gelding’s sweaty neck. "He’s a good jumper, but a huge chicken about certain types of things. All he needs is a little patience and he gets over it. I just wanted to make sure it was now, with me, and not in the show ring with his twelve-year-old owner.”

I nodded, a little surprised. The Dana sitting in front of me right now seemed like a whole different kind of person from the one I’d seen with Payton yesterday. But I pushed the thought aside.

"Listen, I know you’re probably really busy,” I said, “but I was hoping to talk to you about something. Do you have a second?” "Just barely.” Dana checked her watch. Then she dismounted and led the horse out through the gate nearby. "I need to get this
guy back to the barn, then meet a student at a different ring for a lesson. What did you want to talk about?”

I hesitated, not sure what to say. My usual method was to treat everyone as a suspect until the evidence indicated I should do otherwise. Dana was Payton’s longtime trusted trainer. But did that mean she was innocent?

"It’s about Payton,” I said, deciding to keep it vague—just in case. "I’m, um, worried about her.”

Dana stopped fiddling with the horse’s stirrups and turned to face me. "Oh?” She peered into my face. "That’s funny. I’m pretty worried about Payton myself.”

“Really? How so?”

Dana unsnapped her riding helmet and pulled it off, running a hand through her short hair. “She’s not herself lately. I’m afraid she’s losing her competitive edge.”

"You mean because of what happened yesterday?” I asked. "The accusation that she drugs her horses?”

Dana blinked. “Actually, I almost forgot about that. No, this has been going on since way before yesterday. At least a month, maybe longer. It’s like somewhere along the way, she just lost it.”

“What do you mean?”

Dana shrugged, some of that impatience I’d seen yesterday
creeping back into her expression. "Hard to describe. Just that these past few shows, it’s like she’s not that into it anymore.” The horse shifted his weight, and Dana glanced over at him.

“Okay.” I could tell the trainer was getting antsy. "So is there any chance this drug thing isn’t the first time someone tried to psych her out, started a rumor or whatever? Could there be other incidents she didn’t tell you about?”

"I suppose it’s possible. Payton’s a teenager, after all, and everyone knows they aren’t always super forthcoming.” Dana glanced at me, then grimaced as she belatedly remembered—or noticed—my age. “No offense.”

"None taken. Do you know if Payton has any enemies? Like competitors who might want to throw her off her game or some-thing?”

"Funny you should ask.” Dana frowned. “For such a sweet, hardworking girl, Payton has managed to make a couple of enemies.”

I held my breath. Now we were getting somewhere! I wondered if one of the enemies Dana was alluding to could be Lenny Hood. The more I thought about the comments he’d made yesterday, the more troubling they seemed.