Mystery of the Midnight Rider (7 page)

Mixed Messages

“BUTE? WHAT’S THAT?” GEORG
E ASKED.

Mickey didn’t answer. He was already sprinting toward the door, calling out for the other grooms. “Nobody feed anything!” he shouted. "I’ve got to tell Dana about this. We’ll have to figure out if any of the other feed was tampered with.”

A couple of the other grooms rushed in. They seemed surprised to see us in there.

“What’s going on?” asked Jen.

“We’re not sure,” I told her. "Um, Mickey just noticed there was some extra stuff in one of the buckets.”

"Yeah, he called it bute,” George added. "What is that?”

"It’s a medication,” Jen replied. "It’s very common—sort of like aspirin for horses. Some of ours g
et it after a tough day of show
ing. Which bucket was it in?”

“Midnight’s,” Bess replied.

“What?” Jen exclaimed. "But that’s not right—Midnight isn’t
allowed to have bute today!”

"Why not?” I asked. "I thought you said it was common.”

The groom looked distraught. "It is, but you’re not allowed to give it at the same time as certain other drugs,” she explained. “And Midnight is scheduled to get one of those other drugs tonight. If he ended up with both in his system and then got tested...”

She let her voice trail off. I could guess what she was thinking. Midnight was in enough trouble with the drug testers already, without another positive result to add to the mess.

"Anyway,” Jen went on after a moment, "I know there was nothing extra in that bucket an hour ago—I mixed all of this afternoon’s feed myself!”

She and the other groom started checking all the buckets. My friends and I took the opportunity to slip out of the feed room.

"So what do you think?” George asked as we wandered down the aisle. “Does this make Mickey a suspect?”

"Maybe,” I said. "It sounds like he wouldn’t mind one bit if Midnight got a vacation. And a drug suspension would be a sure way to do it.”

Bess nodded. "Especially since he was so quick to tell us that the theo-whatever stuff the test found wouldn’t hurt Midnight any.

That makes it a likely choice for someone who’s worried about the horse’s welfare, right?”

"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 ba
rn
?”

"Good question.” I watched as Jessica disappeared around the comer. “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 bam, 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. “Urn, 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 comer. 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—”