Mystery of the Midnight Rider (Nancy Drew Diaries #3)(6)

“My horses love all kinds of treats.” Payton gave a light tug on the lead to get Midnight moving. "Most of them aren’t too picky— they’ll eat carrots, apples, mints, whatever. One or two are more particular, but most horses have at least one or two favorite snacks.”

"Just like people, huh?” Ned said.



We left the bam and headed over to a grassy area near the fence separating the fairgrounds from the parking lot. The bright sunlight bounced off the bumpers and mirrors of the many cars parked out there, and Midnight snorted and danced in place at first as he took it all in. But he settled quickly, lowering his head and nibbling at the grass.



I glanced at Payton. She was watching her horse, a contented expression on her face. I hated to ruin her mood, but I was curious about what had happened earlier.

“So that drugging thing was weird,” I said. “What do you think that’s all about?”

Payton’s expression darkened. "I don’t know. But it’s not true.” “Nancy knows that,” Ned put in quickly. "I already explained that you’re not that kind of person.”

Before Payton could say anything else, there was a buzz from the pocket of her breeches. “That’s my phone,” she said, fishing it out. “Dad’s right on schedule. ... Hi, Dad.”

My friends and I drifted away to give her some privacy. “What’s with the questioning, Detective Drew?” George joked. "You think Payton has some kind of deep, dark mystery that needs solving?”

I grinned. Like I said, my friends like to rib me about my interest in mysteries. "You never know,” I said. “Maybe it’s like we were saying before—someone could be trying to knock out the competition to improve their odds of winning the big-money classes.”



"Or maybe it’s a mistake,” Ned said. “I doubt Payton would be mixed up in anything nefarious, even secondhand.” He shrugged. “Sorry, Nancy. You might be stuck just watching a horse show this weekend instead of solving another mystery.”



"Yeah,” Bess put in. “And she might be stuck just watching a horse show instead of doing something romantic for her anniversary, too.”

We were all still laughing about that when Payton wandered over to us, tucking away her phone with one hand while hanging on to Midnight’s lead with the other.

"That was my dad,” she said. “He likes to check in after each of my rounds to see how it went.”

"Really?” George looked impressed. "He keeps that close tabs on your show schedule? I mean, you only finished riding, like, twenty minutes ago. How’d he know he wasn’t going to call while you were in the air over a big fence?”

Payton laughed. "Don’t worry, I turn off my phone while I’m in the ring. But to answer your question, Dad has an app on his phone with a timer that keeps track for him.” She tugged on Midnight’s lead to keep him from wandering too close to the fence. “His job is so busy that that’s probably the only way he could keep track short of hiring an extra employee just to keep track of my show schedule.”

"You sound like you’re only half joking about that extra employee thing,” Ned said.

"You know Dad,” Payton said. "He’s pretty serious about results—he doesn’t like to miss a detail.”

Between her father, her trainer, and herself, I couldn’t help thinking that Payton was under a lot of pressure to perform well at these shows. Still, she seemed to be handling it awfully well, especially for someone her age.

Midnight took a couple of bites of grass, then lifted his head and stepped toward the parking lot fence again. Payton didn’t let him get too close, once again pulling him back with the lead.

"Looks like Midnight must believe that old line,” I said. "You know, the one about the grass being greener on the other side?” "He wouldn’t actually try to escape out into the parking lot or anything, would he?” George eyed the horse nervously. "I mean, I know there’s a fence, but. ..”

Payton laughed. “Are you kidding? Midnight could clear that tiny fence in his sleep.” Her eyes twinkled. “But don’t worry— there’s no grass out in the parking lot. He definitely wouldn’t be interested in going out there when he-”

She cut herself off with a gasp as something suddenly flew at the horse out of nowhere. SPLAT! Whatever it was hit Midnight, leaving a huge red mark on his side.



With a terrified cry, the horse yanked the lead out of Payton’s hand, reared up, and spun away.





CHAPTER THREE




Food for Thought



“MIDNIGHT!” PAYTON CRIED.

“Loose horse!” Bess shrieked.

Midnight stopped, his hooves splayed out and his big brown eyes rolling. He snorted, then spun around as a shout came from out in the parking lot.

Ignoring the shout, I focused on the horse. “Easy, boy,” I crooned, trying desperately to remember what to do about a loose horse. Had we even learned that in those childhood lessons? Doubtful. Most of the ponies I’d ridden wouldn’t move out of a slow walk for anything short of a meteor landing behind them.

Luckily, Payton recovered quickly from her surprise. "Just stay where you are, everybody,” she said in a calm but commanding voice. Then she stepped toward the horse. “Settle down, Midnight. It’s okay.”