Mystery of the Midnight Rider Read Online Free Page B

it?”
    "What?” Bess shot me a look. "You mean that Payton doesn’t seem to mind Dana yelling at her all the time?”
    “No—that Payton’s best horse got attacked so soon after she found out about that anonymous drug rumor.”
    George rolled her eyes. "That’s our Nancy,” she joked. “Always looking for a mystery wherever she goes.”
    “And usually finding one.” Bess turned to me. "What are you saying? Do you really think there’s a connection?”
    "Think about it, Nancy,” George said. “How would those nutty protesters even know Payton’s horse would be hanging out near the parking lot fence? It’s too coincidental to think they were targeting her. They probably just tossed that tomato at the first horse that wandered close enough.”
    "You’re probably right,” I admitted. “Still, you have to admit it’s kind of strange.”
    "Kind of,” George agreed. "But everything about the big-time horse show world seems a little strange to me.”
    “Me too,” Bess said. "For all we know, people at these shows might make anonymous complaints against the competition all the time. Maybe George is right and we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
    “Maybe.” I shrugged. "Let’s fi nd Ned so we can all watch Pay ton ride again.”
     
    ******
     
    “Here she comes,” Bess said as Payton trotted into the ring. This time she was riding a dapple gray horse.
    “She’s looking good,” George said. "Isn’t that one of the horses she introduced us to?”
    "Yeah, I think it’s one of hers,” Ned said. "What was its name again? Rain Cloud, maybe?”
    A pair of teenage girls were sitting on the bleacher bench in front of us. They were maybe a year or two younger than Payton, dressed in breeches and flip-flops. One of them turned around with a smile.
    "It’s Rain Dance,” she supplied. "She’s one of Payton’s younger jumpers, but they’ve been doing great all season.”
    “Oh! Thanks.” I returned the girl’s smile. She nodded, then turned back to watch as Payton sent the horse into a canter.
    Payton rode a big circle around several of the jumps at a brisk trot. Then a buzzer sounded, and she picked up speed and aimed her mount at the first jump, an airy arrangement of blue-and-white rails suspended between a pair of standards painted with the name of the show. The horse sailed over with half a foot to spare.
    "Nice,” I said.
    "Did you see that?” a loud voice came from a few yards down the bleachers. "She really messed up the approach. Not a good way to start.”
    I glanced that way. The speaker was a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, prominent jowls, and beefy shoulders. He was surrounded by teen and preteen girls in riding attire. All the girls tittered loudly at his comment.
    “Typical Payton,” one of the girls said. “She’s always getting her fancy horses to cover for her.”
    “Uh-huh.” The man smirked. “Just watch her gun that poor mare to the next one.”
    Glancing back at the ring, I saw Payton and her horse approaching the next jump. Once again, the pair cleared the obstacle effortlessly before executing a tight turn to the next one.
    “She’s lucky that mare is so forgiving,” the jowly man said, his voice just as loud as before. "If she tried to ride most horses that way, she’d be off at the first fence.” He smirked. “At least she can serve as an example of how not to ride.”
    Beside me, I could tell that Ned was gritting his teeth. A second later he stood up.
    "Excuse me,” he called to the man. “Payton Evans is a friend of ours, and we don’t appreciate your remarks. Keep it down, okay?”
    The man stared at Ned. "Sorry, buddy,” he said, though he didn’t sound very sorry to me. "I just call ’em as I see ’em.”
    Ned frowned. Like I said, he’s pretty easygoing. But he has a temper under there somewhere, and the best way to bring it out is to insult his friends or family.
    "Listen . . .,” he began.
    Just then another girl rushed over to the