The Mystery of the Masked Rider (11 page)

Maybe. But then why had Gloria acted so guilty? At least the girth incident had pushed Phil into the background, Nancy thought. Or had it?

Phil could have lowered the girth much earlier,
thinking that the saddle would slip just enough to throw horse and rider off-balance. Only then his plan had backfired, and Colleen had fallen. Nancy knew Phil Ackerman wanted his girlfriend to quit riding, but she didn't think he'd deliberately hurt Colleen.

Deliberately hurt Colleen
. Nancy repeated the words to herself. Suddenly her hand holding the sponge froze in midair once again. That's what she'd been missing. Until tonight, all the attempts had been on Nightingale. Nancy had always assumed it was the horse the culprits were after.

But now that she knew the loosened girth had been no accident, Nancy had to rethink everything. She thought back to all the things done to Nightingale—the blister, the poisoned hay, letting the mare loose.

None of those things had really hurt Nightingale, of course. Even the bouncing bet thrown in the hay had been just toxic enough to give the mare a stomachache. But Colleen's fall was serious—deadly serious. Whoever was behind all of this wasn't out to harm Nightingale. Someone was now after Colleen.

“Nancy, I got through to the hospital.” Bess came rushing up, a big grin on her face.

“How's Colleen feeling?” Nancy asked, her earlier thoughts pushed aside for now.

“She regained consciousness on the way to the hospital,” Bess said. “They're taking X rays, but Phil says the doctors don't think she has any broken bones.”

“Whew. That's good news. Things might have been worse.” Nancy's voice was solemn as she rinsed Nightingale with the hose.

“I know that look you've got on your face,” Bess said. “You've figured something out. Are you going to let me in on it?”

“Yup.” Nancy turned and pointed to the bucket. “First, hand me the scraper.”

Bess reached down and handed Nancy the
long, scooped piece of metal used to whisk excess water off the horse's coat.

“Well?” Bess prompted.

Nancy glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “All this time we've been protecting Nightingale because we thought she was the target.”

Bess nodded in agreement.

“But when you look back at all the things that happened to her, she never really got hurt. Not seriously, anyway.”

Bess shrugged. “Okay, so maybe our bad guys bungled the job.”

“Four times?”

Bess screwed up her face. “Yeah. I see your point. But maybe the culprits got desperate, which is why Colleen got hurt. Her accident today will probably keep both of them from competing in tomorrow's Worthington Cup, right?”

As she dried the mare's face, Nancy thought for a moment. “Could be. But I think our mystery person wants Nightingale safe and sound. In fact, I think the person wants Nightingale so bad, he or she will do anything to get her.”

“Do you think Marisa would hurt Colleen just to get Nightingale?” Bess asked.

“Well, think about it. If Colleen had been seriously injured, she'd definitely have to sell Nightingale. Right now her winnings are the only thing that's paying for feed. And who
would exercise Nightingale?” Nancy leaned down to dump out the bucket. “But that doesn't necessarily narrow it down to Marisa,” she went on. “Phil would be ecstatic if Colleen quit riding.”

“Nancy!” Bess sounded shocked. “I don't know how you can accuse him. Phil was in tears when Colleen fell.”

Nancy snorted. “If he'd been the cause of her fall, he
should
have been in tears.”

Bess put her hands on her hips. “Phil really loves Colleen, Nancy, and you know it.”

Nancy didn't respond. Picking up the bucket again, she began to lead Nightingale into the stable area. Bess trudged along beside her.

“Then there's Gloria's strange behavior, and Scott . . .” Nancy mused aloud, her voice trailing off.

“Scott? How did he get dragged into this?” Bess asked. “I swear, Nancy, I think you're ready to accuse everyone and anyone.”

Nancy chuckled at her friend's indignation, thinking that Bess should know that she had to view everyone as a potential suspect.

“You may be right,” Nancy conceded as they walked down the aisle. “In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if we have two suspects, with two different motives.”

“As I said before, this case gets curiouser and curiouser,” Bess said with a sigh.

• • •

Twenty minutes later Nightingale was settled in her stall, munching hay. Nancy and Bess had set up their cots and were wearily slumped on them. It was ten o'clock, and both girls were exhausted.

For a while Nancy tried to think about the case, but then she closed her eyes—just for a minute, she told herself. The next thing she knew, someone was shaking her shoulder.

“Nancy!” The voice was urgent. “I've got to talk to you.” Nancy recognized Phil Ackerman's voice.

Instantly her eyes flew open, and she sat up on the cot. It was still dark out. She looked at her watch and noticed she'd been asleep for only a few minutes. “What? What's wrong? Is Colleen okay?”

Phil nodded, then motioned to the aisle. “Come on out here. I don't want to wake up Bess.”

Nancy swung her legs to the side of the cot and stuck her feet in her sneakers. Then she pulled a sweatshirt over her head and stood up. For a moment she thought about waking Bess. It was late and the barn was quiet. What if Phil was planning to bop her on the head?

Nancy scoffed at her own idea. Not only was she prepared to defend herself, but she didn't think Phil would try anything. He probably just had news about Colleen.

She stepped out into the aisle. Phil was seated
on a hay bale, his head propped in his hands. When Nancy approached, he looked up. His smile seemed strained and tired.

“Is Colleen—?”

He held up his hand to silence her question. “She's fine. She's back at the motel, sleeping like a baby. The doctor released her, saying she needed to take it easy for a few days. I called her parents. They said they'd be here in the morning.” He sighed. “She's insisting on riding in the Worthington Cup.”

“Well, we just won't let her,” Nancy said firmly.

“I was hoping you'd say that.” Phil smiled at her again, and Nancy couldn't help but smile back. But then Phil looked awkwardly down at the floor.

“Nancy . . .” Phil began. Then he clenched one hand into a fist and pounded the palm of the other one. “How could I have been so stupid?”

Reaching out, Nancy caught his hand in hers. “Why don't you tell me what you're talking about?” she said gently. “Does it have something to do with the blister?”

Abruptly Phil glanced over at her, his dark eyes wide with pain. “How did you know that?”

“You were at Colleen's that night, you know about things like blisters, and you had a motive.”

Phil let out his breath. “That obvious, huh? I guess you know about my letting Nightingale out, too.”

“You let her out here? At the show?”

“No. No way.” Phil shook his head emphatically. “That's why I wanted to talk to you. You probably think I'm involved with what's going on at the show, but I'm not!” His voice rose. “Once Colleen decided to come to the show, I was behind her one hundred percent. I know you think I'm a first-class jerk, but I really do love her and want the best for her. I would
never
do anything to hurt Colleen.”

“Then you were the one who let Nightingale out at Colleen's barn?” Nancy asked.

“Right. But I didn't poison her hay!” he insisted. “That would have been going too far.”

Nancy frowned. “I thought the blister was going too far.”

Phil shook his head. “I only used a little. I thought that if Nightingale wasn't in top form, Colleen wouldn't go to the show. I was afraid if they
did
go, and Nightingale did well, then Colleen would decide not to sell her. If that happened, I knew I'd lose her.”

Nancy said nothing.

“At first I thought the poisonous weed in the hay was an accident,” Phil continued. “But then, when we got to the show and you found the nails, and someone let Nightingale loose, I realized something fishy was going on. I wanted to talk to you about it earlier. You kept shooting me suspicious looks, so I knew you thought I was the culprit. But we got so busy, and then . . .”

“Colleen fell,” Nancy finished his thoughts.

He nodded. Nancy thought Phil's confession sounded sincere. He'd admitted some painful things. And in her heart, she knew Bess was right—Phil may have acted stupidly, but he really did love Colleen. Which meant she needed to concentrate on finding the real culprit.

“Tell me about Scott Weller,” Nancy said. It was a question she'd wanted to ask Colleen, but it couldn't wait. “Why is there such hostility between you two?”

Phil shrugged. “Scott and Colleen were dating when I met Colleen. That was also the year his horse had the accident. Colleen assured me that the relationship was breaking up anyway, but Scott still took it hard when Colleen stopped seeing him as a boyfriend.”

Nancy frowned. “But he seems so friendly now.”

“He got over it, and Colleen went out of her way to be nice to him. She knew he felt pretty bad about his horse. I guess that's what put a strain on the relationship in the first place. Scott just wasn't himself.”

Nancy looked at him sharply. “Because of the horse's accident?”

“Yeah. His mare was injured in a jump-off with Colleen at the Columbia Classic. Colleen went on to win the class, as well as high point amateur-owner for the year. Scott acted like that was okay, but he really couldn't handle it.”

“Wow. So that's what Scott meant by a repeat performance.” Nancy rose and began to pace up and down the aisle. “And it was a repeat performance in more ways than one—only this time Colleen got hurt instead of his horse.”

“What are you getting at?” Phil asked.

Nancy stopped in front of Phil. “Scott was never on my suspect list because he didn't seem to have any motive. But now I'm not so sure. He might have the best motive of all—revenge!”

Phil shook his head. “Scott's doing so well as a professional rider. Why would he want to risk his whole career just to get back at Colleen? Besides, they were used to competing against each other. Sometimes she'd win, sometimes he'd win.”

“I guess you're right,” Nancy said slowly. She slumped next to Phil on the hay bale. “And I can't forget about all of the evidence pointing to the San Marcoses. That mask and fiber of yarn were pretty incriminating.”

Phil stood up. “Well, I'd better get back to the motel and check on Colleen. I guess I have some explaining to do.” He gave Nancy a pained look. “Do you think Colleen will forgive me?”

“Forgive you for what?” a voice asked from down the aisle.

Nancy twisted around. “Colleen?” she said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Phil took two giant strides toward her. “You're supposed to be in bed,” he said, wrapping a protective arm over her shoulder.

She shrugged it off. “Like an invalid? I feel fine. And I'm riding in the Worthington Cup, no matter what anyone says.” Feet firmly planted, hands on hips, Colleen glared at the two of them. “The doctor told me I'm okay, so there's no reason I shouldn't.”

“I've got a reason!” Nancy jumped up. “If you ride in the class tomorrow night, it might be the last time you ever get on a horse.”

Colleen frowned. “What do you mean?” She looked at Phil, searching for an explanation.

“Nancy's decided it wasn't just Nightingale our culprit was after,” Phil said. “It's you, too.”

“Me?” Colleen squeaked. “But what about all those terrible things that happened to Nightingale?”

“Uh . . .” Phil glanced nervously over at Nancy.

Nancy looked away, hoping he'd tell Colleen the truth.

“We've got to talk, Colleen,” Phil said finally.

Colleen's mouth dropped open as she looked at Phil's flushed face. “So it was you!” Her voice rose in anger. “Nancy was right.”

“Colleen, I . . .” Phil reached out and touched her arm. Colleen pulled away from him and marched over to the hay bale. Crossing her arms, she plunked down on the bale.

“At least listen to his explanation,” Nancy said, sitting next to her.

Colleen shot Phil a nasty look. “Maybe,” she said tersely. “Right now I'm too angry.”

Phil let out his breath. “I don't blame you.”

There was an awkward silence until Nancy spoke. “Look, I've just thought of a way to catch our culprit. It's about time we turned the tables on him . . . or her,” she added.

“Do you think it will work?” Colleen looked hopeful.

Nancy nodded. “I'll bet my life on it.” She checked her watch. “It's only ten-thirty. Now, listen carefully. Colleen, you need to walk down the aisles and tell anyone who asks that you're feeling great. So great that you've decided to ride in tomorrow night's costume class.”

“But I didn't even register for it,” Colleen said, frowning.

“That doesn't matter,” Nancy said. “The important thing is to tell everyone that you're going to try out your costume early tomorrow morning. You want to wear it riding Nightingale in the main arena to make sure it doesn't spook her or something.”

“You've lost me.” Colleen shook her head. “How is that going to catch our culprit?”

“You'll be all alone,” Nancy pointed out. “By now our bad guy's getting desperate. He or she will figure this is the last chance to get you.”