The Mystery of the Masked Rider (10 page)

She dashed downstairs to the warm-up area. Colleen had dismounted and was leading Nightingale in a small circle. Gloria Donner was walking next to her.

“I don't know.” Colleen was shaking her head. “I just feel that, since Nightingale did her best, once was enough. I'll tell the ringmaster I'm not going to participate in the jump-off.”

“No way! Nightingale jumped that course as though the fences were all two feet high,” Gloria replied. “She's more than ready. And remember, first place is a thousand bucks more. That buys a lot of feed.”

Just then Scott rode up. “Well, Colleen?” he said, flashing a challenging grin. “Should we make this a repeat of the Columbia Classic?”

Colleen's head snapped back as she looked up at Scott. Her fingers gripped the reins tight, and Nancy could see the hesitation in her eyes. Nancy wondered what Scott meant. At the same time she was thinking that Gloria was right. Nightingale
had
breezed around the course. Why was Colleen so reluctant for a jump-off?

“Oh, Colleen, you're going to win! I just know it!” Marisa came bounding up with her usual enthusiastic greeting. Throwing one arm over the saddle, she gave Nightingale a hug.

At the same time a bright flash of light flashed in everyone's eyes.

“Got you,” Phil said from behind his camera. “A winner.” He nodded toward Colleen. “And a loser.” He smiled nastily at Scott. “Side by side in the same photo. Maybe the newspapers will buy it.”

“Except the winner's going to be Wintergreen,” Scott shot back as he rode off.

“Go for it, Colleen,” Gloria said in a firm voice. She'd been standing next to Marisa on the right side of Nightingale. Passing around the mare's rear, she laced her fingers together to offer Colleen a leg up.

Colleen hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “Oh, all right.”

She set her knee in Gloria's cupped hands, and the older woman swung her onto the horse. Colleen gathered her reins. Without a backward glance, she trotted Nightingale into the ring.

Nancy ran upstairs to rejoin Bess.

“Is it just my imagination, or does Colleen look really nervous?” Bess asked in a low voice.

“It's not just your imagination,” Nancy replied. “I think Gloria Donner kind of talked her
into the jump-off. Colleen would have been happy with second place.”

The two girls fell silent as the buzzer rang once again. Colleen steered Nightingale over the first jump, then made an abrupt U-turn toward a triple oxer—the highest fence, worth the most points.

“I'm not going to look,” Bess said, covering her eyes.

Nancy held her breath. Suddenly Colleen and the saddle slipped sideways. There was an audible gasp from the audience. Colleen grabbed Nightingale's braided mane, trying to keep herself upright. At the same time Nightingale, sensing something was wrong, slid to an abrupt stop.

Like a launched missile, Colleen flew headfirst over Nightingale's head and crashed into the jump, scattering the heavy poles as if they were twigs.

“Colleen's hurt!” Bess cried.

Without a second's hesitation Nancy rushed down the steps, vaulted the arena wall, and ran through the tanbark to where Colleen was lying. Her friend's eyes were shut and her body was very still. Nancy moved a pole that had fallen on Colleen's leg, then took her friend's wrist in her hand. Colleen's pulse was normal.

“Colleen!” Phil knelt next to Nancy. “Is she alive?” he asked in a voice choking with pain.

Nancy nodded. An official ran over just as the rescue vehicle roared through the gate. “Don't move her,” the official said in a tense voice.

Looking up briefly, Nancy scanned the arena for Nightingale. The mare had jogged to the other end of the ring, reins dragging in the tanbark. The saddle had slipped halfway down
her side. Nancy could see Gloria Donner, lead line in hand, approaching the frightened horse. The spectators were all standing to get a better look and murmuring among themselves.

Two medics pushed past Phil and stopped on either side of Colleen. Nancy stood up and stepped back. Phil stayed by Colleen's head, his hand gripping hers.

“It's good she was wearing a hard hat,” one of the medics muttered. “Blood pressure's low. Nothing seems to be broken, but you never know.”

Carefully they unsnapped Colleen's hunt cap and pulled it off her head. “No visible contusions or cuts,” the other medic said. “Let's strap her on the stretcher and take her to the hospital.”

“I'm going with her,” Phil said in a firm voice.

Nancy nodded. “We'll take care of Nightingale. I'll call as soon as I can.”

Bess came up as the medics slid Colleen into the back of the rescue vehicle. Phil climbed in after her. Sitting down, he took Colleen's hand and pressed it to his lips. There were tears in his eyes.

The medics closed the double doors, and Nancy and Bess silently watched the rescue vehicle leave. Then Nancy turned toward Gloria Donner, who was leading Nightingale toward them. She'd taken the saddle off so it wasn't hanging under the still-nervous mare.

“I'm really sorry,” Gloria said in a hushed
voice. Her face was pale and her mouth drawn. “Do they think Colleen will be okay?”

Nancy took Nightingale's reins and slowly started to lead the mare to the gate. “There don't seem to be any broken bones, but it's hard to tell at this point.”

Gloria shook her head as she walked along beside them. “This brings back bad memories. At least Nightingale's okay. And she had sense enough to stop before the jump. Otherwise, it could have been a real mess.”

A real mess is right, Nancy thought. I should have known something like this was going to happen. And I should have been able to prevent it somehow. Nancy sighed in frustration.

“So what do you think happened?” Bess asked.

“I'd say that, in all the confusion before the jump-off, Colleen forgot to check her girth,” Gloria answered. “As a horse exercises, you usually need to raise the strap a notch. A simple fact, but if you don't, the saddle could easily slip, and . . .” Her voice trailed off as they went through the gate.

“Is Colleen all right?” Scott jogged up on Wintergreen, his eyes wide with concern.

“We don't know,” Bess said solemnly.

The loudspeaker blasted something about Colleen, then Scott's name. He flushed. “What a way to win the class,” he muttered. With an apologetic smile he trotted Wintergreen into the ring to receive his trophy.

“Hey, you guys.” Gloria turned to Nancy and Bess. “My three girls aren't riding until tomorrow morning. I'd be happy to help with Nightingale.”

“That's okay,” Nancy replied. “I think we can handle it.”

“At least let me walk her for a while,” Gloria insisted, “to make sure she's not hurt.”

“That's a good idea, Nancy,” Bess said. “Especially since we don't know much about horse injuries.”

“All right,” Nancy finally agreed. Gloria seemed sincere. But right now she didn't want
anyone
handling Nightingale except her and Bess. Too much had happened already. Even though it might have been an accident—in all the excitement and confusion, Colleen might have forgotten to tighten Nightingale's girth—Nancy wanted to be extra cautious.

In silence Nancy, Bess, and Gloria walked to the stable area. Nancy held tightly to Nightingale's lead. Even the mare seemed quiet, as if she knew something was wrong.

“I'll put the saddle away,” Gloria offered.

“There's a saddle rack in the extra stall,” Bess said.

When Gloria went in, Bess reached out and ran her hand down Nightingale's white blaze. “I sure hope Colleen's okay,” she said to Nancy in a low voice. “When I signed up for bodyguard duty, I thought I was going to protect a horse. I wasn't figuring on Colleen getting hurt.”

Nancy frowned. “I know how you feel. Here, hold Nightingale while I get her halter, okay?”

She handed the reins to Bess, then walked into the extra stall. Gloria had set the saddle down on the rack and was standing on the far side of it. She'd lifted the flap of leather the rider's leg rested against and was peering underneath.

When she saw Nancy, Gloria's face flushed as if she'd been caught with her hand in a cookie jar. “Uh, just running up the stirrups,” she said quickly.

“Thanks,” Nancy murmured, keeping her eyes on the older woman. With a strained smile Gloria dropped the leather panel and stepped around the rack.

“I'll check Nightingale's legs now,” she said, and strode from the stall without looking at Nancy.

Now what was all that about? Nancy wondered. She knew Gloria wasn't running up the stirrups on the stirrup straps. They'd already been secured before they'd left the ring. It was very unlikely that a stirrup had slipped down again.

Curious, Nancy walked around to the other side of the saddle. She lifted the panel and checked underneath. There were two straps that were fastened under the horse's belly. Each strap had a buckle on either side. One set of buckles was unfastened each time the saddle was removed. The other set of buckles remained fastened at the same place, and these holes had
become worn with use. Studying the girth, Nancy immediately noticed that it had been lowered one notch below the two worn holes where Colleen normally buckled the straps. Nancy remembered, because she'd been careful to rebuckle the girth at the two worn holes when she'd cleaned it earlier. Then she'd double-checked the tightness with Colleen.

A chill ran over Nancy as she dropped the leather flap. So Colleen's fall definitely wasn't an accident. Grabbing the halter, she darted back into the aisle. She had some questions to ask Gloria Donner.

But the older woman wasn't there.

“Where's Gloria?” Nancy asked Bess.

“She left,” Bess replied, startled. “What's going on?”

Nancy threw her friend the halter. “No time to explain,” she said as she took off toward the stalls where she'd first met Gloria. But the trainer wasn't there, either.

Nancy approached a young girl brushing a bay horse. “Have you seen Gloria Donner?” Nancy asked her.

“She just left a minute ago,” the girl replied. “I think she yelled something about a late dinner.”

“Where's she staying? What motel?” Nancy insisted.

The girl stopped brushing and gave her a strange look.

“Please, it's important.”

“Holiday House.”

Nancy dashed for the parking lot. She still had the truck keys in her pocket. But once outside, she changed her mind. Gloria Donner obviously knew something. She'd acted too suspicious when Nancy had caught her looking at the girth. But leaving Bess alone with Nightingale was too risky.

As Nancy walked back into the stable area, she recalled seeing Gloria on Nightingale's right side before Colleen had gone in for the jump-off. And Gloria had been holding Nightingale right before the class. That meant the trainer had had ample opportunity to lower the girth when no one was looking. But why would Gloria Donner have done such a thing?

Was she working with Diego San Marcos? Had he offered her money or a job in return for sabotaging Colleen's ride?

Nancy broke into a jog, quickly reaching Nightingale's stall. Bess had untacked the mare and was buckling on the halter.

“Hey, you're getting good at this.” Nancy grinned at her friend, relieved to see that both Bess and Nightingale were all right.

Bess patted Nightingale on the neck. “That's because I have a horse who knows I need a lot of cooperation.” Then her expression turned serious. “So are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

“I'm pretty sure someone loosened Nightingale's
girth before Colleen went in for the jump-off.”

“What?” Bess's mouth dropped open. “You mean it wasn't an accident?”

“I don't think so,” Nancy answered. “And I have a feeling Gloria Donner's in on it.”

“Gloria? You wondered about her before—the night Nightingale got out.” Bess frowned, puzzled. “But why would she want to hurt Colleen and Nightingale's chances to win? Doesn't she want to be their trainer?”

Nancy sighed. “Good questions. Maybe the woman's just really ambitious. Colleen told us that Gloria was obsessed with winning before her accident.”

Bess shook her head. “But she also said she thought Gloria had changed.”

“Maybe that's what Gloria wants everyone to think,” Nancy replied. “Maybe somebody's offering her something in exchange for her help.”

“Like what? And who?”

Brows furrowed in thought, Nancy walked to Nightingale's side. She wished she had a definite answer or more evidence. Then maybe she could alert the arena's security force.

“Nightingale's kind of sweaty,” Nancy said, patting the mare's wet neck. “I'd better wash her off and walk her awhile. Why don't you call the hospital and see if there's any news?”

“Okay,” Bess agreed. “Are you sure you'll be all right?”

Nancy smiled confidently. “Oh, sure. Just let someone try and get to Nightingale. They'll never get past me.”

“Go get ‘em.” Bess gave Nancy the thumbs-up sign, then grabbed her purse and went to find a pay phone.

After her friend had left, Nancy picked up a bucket and led Nightingale outside to the water spigots. A half-dozen other grooms and riders were washing their horses. Nancy recognized several riders from the Gambler's Choice. All of them asked about Colleen.

Nancy told them she didn't have any news yet. Then she filled up the bucket with soapy water. As she scrubbed Nightingale's back, Nancy was lost in thought. How could Gloria Donner be involved? she wondered. All of the physical evidence so far, as well as a possible motive, pointed to the San Marcoses.

Suddenly Nancy stopped scrubbing. Marisa had also been on Nightingale's right side before Colleen had gone into the jump-off. Had she lowered the girth? Had Gloria seen her? Maybe the trainer wasn't guilty after all. Maybe she'd just been checking the saddle to see for herself if someone had tampered with the girth.