The Mystery of the Masked Rider (6 page)

“I wouldn't miss it.” Marisa giggled. If Diego
had forbidden her to go, Marisa didn't seem the least bit worried about it.

“Is your father going, too?”

“No way,” Marisa scoffed, but then she lowered her voice. “Fortunately, he has a meeting with some business partner or something.” She slid the blanket off the horse and carried it into the aisle.

“Are you wearing a costume?” Nancy asked, thinking about the red and black mask.

Marisa's eyes sparkled mischievously. “Yeah, and it's wild. I'll show it to you.”

She glanced up and down the aisle as if to make sure no one was looking, then kneeled down in front of a big trunk. After opening it, she rummaged beneath piles of horse bandages and brushes and pulled out a fancy dress wrapped in a plastic bag.

Nancy's eyes widened when she saw the costume. It was black with red sequins—exactly like the mask Bess had found outside Nightingale's stall!

“What a beautiful costume!” Nancy exclaimed as Marisa pulled the plastic off the dress and held it up.

Trying to cover her surprise, Nancy pretended to admire the fancy dress. The red sequins swirled across the black bodice in a sunburst design. The short, full skirt was made of red chiffon.

“Does it have a mask?” Nancy asked, suppressing her excitement. “That sure would make it perfect.”

“Yeah, it does.” Bending over the trunk, Marisa hunted through the equipment. “But I don't see it. I hope it didn't fall out when I pulled out the horse blankets. I had to hide it in here so my dad wouldn't see it,” she confided in a low voice.

Nancy's mind whirled with questions. If the
mask in the aisle was Marisa's, when had she dropped it? Was she the person who'd been in Nightingale's stall? Nancy wished she'd gotten a better look at the person. But with their identical hunt caps and breeches, all the riders looked alike.

Nancy watched as Marisa carefully folded the dress and hid it under some leg wraps. “I take it you don't want your dad to see the costume,” she said.

Marisa giggled. “You know fathers. Not only doesn't he want me to go to the party, but he wouldn't like the grown-up dress, either.” She sighed. “Sometimes he's just so old-fashioned . . .” Suddenly she stood up and gave Nancy an embarrassed smile, as if she'd realized she'd revealed too much. “Well, I'd better get back to work.”

“Me, too. Maybe I'll catch you in your next class.” Nancy waved, and Marisa disappeared into Mr. Sunshine's stall.

On the way to the truck Nancy thought about the San Marcoses. Diego was a strict taskmaster, but Marisa was also very ambitious. For them, showing was big business, with high stakes. And now Marisa had said she was riding in the Worthington Cup, which meant she'd be competing against Colleen after all. Now the San Marcoses had a very good reason for wanting Nightingale out of the picture. The red and black mask might be just the evidence Nancy needed to
prove that Diego or Marisa had thrown the nails into Nightingale's stall.

When she reached the truck, Nancy hurriedly unlocked the door of the truck cap and pulled out half a bag of grain. She didn't want to leave Bess alone with Nightingale any longer than necessary.

Half an hour later Phil and Colleen had relieved Nancy and Bess of their duties. Nancy had shared her information about the San Marcoses with Bess, but not with Colleen. She didn't want Phil to know what she'd discovered.

“I need to exercise Nightingale in the warm-up ring,” Colleen said. “Why don't you two grab an early dinner? It may be your last chance.”

“Are you sure you'll be okay?” Nancy asked.

Colleen gave her a reassuring smile. “Phil will be here, don't worry.”

“That's what I'm worried about,” Nancy muttered to herself as she and Bess headed down the aisle.

“What are you mumbling about?” Bess asked.

“I don't like leaving Colleen and Nightingale alone with Phil.”

Bess stopped in her tracks. “Do you still think he's guilty?”

“Phil is one of my main suspects.”

“After all you found out about the San Marcoses? I mean, even though they were in Florida the night Colleen found Nightingale
loose in the barn, they could have hired someone to steal her.”

“Don't worry. Diego and Marisa are high on my list, too.” Nancy pointed to a wide door through which a stream of people and horses was moving in and out. “That must be the entrance to the arena.”

“This place is huge,” Bess said as they walked through the doorway and out into an open area, filled with riders exercising their horses. The floor had been covered with tanbark. Several jumps had been set up along one side. A walkway bordered the other side. The only thing separating pedestrians from horses was a rope strung between a row of wooden poles.

“This must be where Colleen's going to warm up Nightingale,” Nancy said. “And look, there's the entrance into the show ring.” She pointed to a high, solid gate that was just being opened to let out a horse and rider.

“Our next contestant is Elsa Van den Berg, aboard Stowaway,” the loudspeaker system blared into the warm-up area and across the whole arena. Nancy watched as a rider in hunt clothes jogged a sleek gray horse into the ring.

“I wonder where the food is?” Bess mused as they headed down the walkway.

In front of them Nancy could see the entrance to a double stairway. “Over there, I bet,” she said, leading the way.

At the top of the stairs the girls stepped into a crowded walkway the width of a city street. Concession stands and booths lined both sides. The booths were selling everything from artwork to horse feed.

“This is the concourse Colleen was telling me about,” Nancy said. “It circles the arena.”

Bess's eyes bugged out. “You mean there are booths around this entire arena?”

Nancy laughed. “Yup. A hundred and twenty of them.”

“Oh!” Bess clasped her hands. “I've died and gone to heaven.” Immediately she set off toward a display of silver jewelry. Nancy grabbed her arm.

“Let's get some food first. Then you can shop until you drop.”

Bess nodded. “Good idea. I'll need the strength.”

The girls found a small cafeteria-style restaurant. Nancy picked out juice, a salad, and a turkey sandwich. When she glanced at Bess, she saw that her friend's tray was heaped with food.

“Over here!” someone called as they were paying the cashier. Nancy looked across the crowded room. Scott Weller was gesturing from a corner.

She wound her way through the tables and set her tray opposite his. “Hi. You're not showing tonight?”

“Not until eight.” He gave her a friendly smile.
“That's why I'm eating now. It'll give my food a chance to digest before I get prejumping jitters.”

Nancy sat down and poured her juice. She noticed Scott had finished eating. “I'm surprised that someone who's been competing as long as you still gets nervous.”

Scott shrugged. “I never totally relax. But that's good, I guess. It gives me that edge I need to win.”

“Whooo. This weighs a ton.” Setting her tray down, Bess slid into the seat next to Scott. He chuckled when he saw all her food.

“All I had for lunch was a skimpy sandwich,” Bess quickly explained.

Nancy laughed. “And a granola bar and a . . .”

Her friend held up her hand to silence her. “Colleen said we may not get a chance to eat later, remember?”

“Have you girls known Colleen long?” Scott asked.

“Since high school,” Bess answered, biting into her hamburger. “How about you?”

“Oh, I started competing against Colleen and Nightingale about two years ago in amateur-owner jumper classes.”

Nancy stopped chewing. “Colleen told us what happened to your horse. That must have been tough.”

“It was, at the time. But I got over it. You can't be sentimental in this business.”

“What happened to your horse?” Bess asked. “Colleen said she couldn't jump anymore.”

“She slipped and fell on some wet footing at a show. She broke her leg in two places, so they had to put her down.”

Bess looked confused.

“That means the vet had to put her to sleep,” Scott explained in a matter-of-fact voice. “It's almost impossible to put a cast on a horse.”

Bess flushed. “Oh, I'm really sorry.”

Nancy put down her sandwich. No matter how casual Scott acted, she could tell by his downcast eyes that he was still upset about the death of his horse.

“So, let's talk about something different,” he said finally. “What do you think of Nightingale?”

“She's terrific,” Nancy said. “Not that either of us knows much about horses,” she added.

“And we haven't really seen her jump anything very high,” Bess said.

“Why's that?” Scott raised his brows.

Immediately Nancy shot Bess a warning look. She didn't want her telling anyone about Nightingale's injuries.

“Uh,” Bess stammered. “Because this is the first time we've seen Colleen show her.”

“Oh.” Scott settled back in his chair, as if satisfied with her answer.

“Since you showed amateur-owner, did you also compete against Marisa San Marcos?” Nancy
asked. Maybe Scott knew something that might help Nancy with the case.

Scott shook his head. “No, fortunately. Marisa and her father are like two barracuda. They'd do anything to win. Don't get me wrong. Marisa is a super rider for someone her age, and Diego buys the finest horses.”

That's just what Nancy had thought.

“The year that Marisa started in amateur-owner, I went professional,” Scott continued. “Colleen rode against her all year, though.” He chuckled. “Much to Diego's dismay.”

“Why's that?” Nancy asked.

“Because Colleen always beat Marisa, no matter which horse she rode. It really ticked off old Diego. He wants to be number one.”

“I got that feeling, too,” Bess said. “That's why he wants to buy Nightingale.”

Scott's brows raised in surprise. “Colleen's going to sell Nightingale?”

“I think you'll have to ask Colleen about that,” Nancy told him.

Bess flushed again. “Me and my big mouth. I figured everyone knew.”

“Well, we'd better be going.” Nancy stood up. “Maybe we'll get to watch Colleen exercise Nightingale.”

“Not me!” Bess exclaimed. “I can hear those little booths calling to me, ‘Bess, Bess, come spend some money.' ”

Nancy and Scott laughed.

“I'll walk down with you,” Scott told Nancy. The three of them dumped their trash, then headed out of the cafeteria. Bess waved goodbye and disappeared into the crowd walking around the concourse. Nancy and Scott went down the steps. At the bottom they had to show their exhibitor badges.

The warm-up area was full of horses in western-style tack.

“The next class must be cutting horse,” Scott said. “That's where the horse is judged on how well it can separate a cow from the herd. It's pretty neat to watch.”

A truck pulling a long trailer rumbled into the area. In the back of the trailer a dozen cows snuffled and bellowed.

Standing on tiptoe, Nancy looked around for Colleen. Her friend was trotting Nightingale in small circles on the other side of the warm-up ring.

“They make a great team, don't they?” Scott nodded in the direction Nancy was looking. “I don't understand why Colleen would ever want to sell Nightingale.”

“Whatever her reasons, it can't be an easy decision.” Nancy tried to sound vague. She glanced sideways at Scott as they started down the walkway toward horse and rider. “Isn't it unusual for you and Colleen to have stayed such good friends? After all, you're rivals, right?”

“Well, yes and no,” Scott replied. “It's true that when big prize money's involved, horse people tend to get greedy. At the same time you spend half your life showing. You see other riders more than your family. If you didn't make friends, you'd be really lonely.”

Just then Colleen caught sight of her friends and waved them over. Nancy waved back and started to duck under the rope.

“Watch out!” Colleen yelled suddenly.

Nancy looked up, and her heart flew into her throat. A riderless horse, reins hanging loose, was galloping straight for her!

Nancy felt strong hands yank her backward. Losing her balance, she fell in the tanbark as Scott ducked under the rope and raised his arms.

“Whoa!” he yelled.

The galloping horse snorted and veered away from him. Colleen reined Nightingale into the horse's path. “Whoa,” she echoed Scott's command.

The runaway horse slid to a stop, then lunged to the right. Wheeling Nightingale in a circle, Colleen boxed the horse into a corner. At the same time a rider in cowboy hat and chaps rushed up.

“Whoa, Minx,” the rider crooned. With a snort Minx tossed his head, pranced a few steps, then finally halted.

“Are you all right?” Scott turned to Nancy after the rider had caught his horse.

“Fine.” Nancy stood up and brushed off her jeans. “Thanks to you.”

“I should have warned you to watch out,” Scott said. “When this many horses are packed into a small space, you're bound to have trouble.”

“Hey, are you two okay?” Colleen trotted over on Nightingale.

Nancy nodded. “That was some pretty good rounding up you did,” she teased. “Maybe you two should be in the cutting class.”

Colleen laughed. “I don't think we're quite ready to tackle cows yet.”

“Hey, sorry about that.” Minx's owner came up to them, his now-docile horse walking beside him. He gave Nancy a concerned look. “Are you all right?”

She nodded and smiled to show him she was fine.