Mystery of the Midnight Rider (Nancy Drew Diaries #3)(2)

Payton nodded. “Got it.”

By then Bess and George had reached us. Both had sodas, and George was also holding a paper cup of French fries smothered in ketchup. The scent of grease wafted toward me, temporarily overwhelming the pleasant horsey smell of Payton’s mount.

“Payton Evans, George Fayne, Bess Marvin,” Ned said, pointing at each girl in turn as he made the introductions. “Bess and George are cousins, believe it or not,” he added with a grin.

“What do you mean, believe it or not?” Payton asked.

I laughed. Bess and George may share the same family, but that’s about all they have in common. Bess is blond, blue-eyed, and as girly as they come. George is, well, pretty much the opposite of that. For instance, Bess had dressed up to come to today’s show in a pretty dress, stylish flats, even a matching bow holding back her shoulder-length hair. George? She was wearing what she wore just about every day. Jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers.

“Don’t pay any attention to him,” Bess said. “It’s nice to meet you, Payton.”

“So you’re the superstar rider Ned keeps talking about,” George added, popping a fry into her mouth. “He’s been totally geeking out about how you’re probably going to be in the next Olympics. Is that true, or is he just pulling our legs?”



Payton played with the reins resting on her mount’s withers. “Actually, my trainer tells me the chef d’equipe of the US team is supposed to come watch the Grand Prix at this show.”

"The chef de what?” Bess asked as she reached over and snagged one of George’s fries.

"That’s the person in charge of the Olympic team,” Ned explained. "Mom and Dad were talking about it last night after Pay-ton’s dad called to make final arrangements.”

"Wow,” I said. “So this big-time Olympics head guy is coming to watch you ride? Maybe so he can decide if you should try out for the US team?”

"I guess so.” Payton shrugged again. "I mean, we don’t know for sure that he’s coming to see me in particular. But my trainer and my parents seem to think so.”

“Awesome.” George reached out and tentatively patted Payton’s horse on the nose. “So is this the horse you’ll be riding when he’s watching?”

"No. I’ll be riding my own horse—my most experienced jumper. His name is Midnight.” Payton smiled as she said the horse’s name. "He’s really cool. Maybe you guys can meet him later.”

“We’d love to,” Bess said. "As long as it’s not too much later. Because I’m sure Nancy and Ned have other plans this evening.” She waggled her eyebrows at me.

"Sure we do,” Ned said. "My parents are throwing that barbecue tonight, remember? You’re both invited.”

“Oh, right.” Bess pursed her lips. “Okay, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” She wagged a playful finger in Ned’s face. "I certainly hope you’re planning to take Nancy somewhere more romantic than a family barbecue—or a horse show—this weekend. It’s your anniversary, remember?”

"How could he forget? You’ve only been reminding him twice a day for the past month.” I was exaggerating, but only a little. Bess is nothing if not a romantic.

"Yeah. Give it a rest already,” George told her cousin. "I’m sure Ned has it all under control.”



“Of course I do. I mean, what could be more romantic than this?” Ned slipped one arm around my shoulders, helping himself to a couple of George’s fries with the other hand. "Fried food,



horse manure—what more could any girl want?”

"Heads up!” a voice barked out, cutting through our laughter. It was another rider—a sharp-chinned teenage girl on a lanky gray horse. The horse was cantering straight at Payton and her mount!

Payton glanced over her shoulder, then shifted her horse aside just in time to avoid a collision. "Um, sorry,” she called to the other rider, even though from where I stood it looked as if the gray horse was the one at fault.

The gray horse’s rider pulled him to a halt and glared back over her shoulder. "Is this your first horse show, Payton?” she snapped. "This is supposed to be a warm-up ring. If you want to stand around and gossip, do it somewhere else.”

"Sorry,” Payton said again, though the other rider was already spurring her horse back into a canter.

"Nice girl,” George commented with a snort. "Friend of yours?” Payton sighed. "That’s Jessica. I don’t even know her that well—she rides at a barn a few miles from mine, and we end up at most of the same shows. I have no idea why she doesn’t like me, but she’s never exactly made a secret of it.” She grimaced and gathered up her reins. “But she’s right about one thing—I shouldn’t be standing around. I’d better get back to my warm-up. I’ll see you guys later, right?”

“Sure. Good luck,” Bess said.

We watched her ride off. “She seems nice,” I said to Ned.

"Yeah, she is.” Ned reached for another fry despite George’s grumbles. “Our moms try to get together as often as they can, so I’ve known Payton fora longtime. Haven’t seen her in two or three years, though.” He licked the salt off his fingers. “Her parents both have pretty intense jobs. Mr. Evans is some kind of high-powered financier, and Payton’s mom is a medical researcher at one of the top hospitals in Chicago.”