Mystery of the Midnight Rider (Nancy Drew Diaries #3)(30)

"I know.” I checked my watch. "Let’s go see how Payton’s holding up.”

Halfway to the barn, we heard shouts coming from behind a shed. Bess looked worried. "That sounds like Dana,” she said.

“Exactly what I was thinking.” Putting a finger to my lips, I gestured for them to follow as I crept closer to the shed. Dana was still yelling—something about her reputation and how she didn’t want to look bad.

". . . and trust me, having you hanging around all the time isn’t doing me any favors!” she finished.

By then I was close enough to peek around the edge of the shed. I carefully did so, expecting to see Payton cringing before Dana’s fury.

But Payton was nowhere in sight. My jaw dropped when I saw who was facing off against Dana. It was Cal Kidd!

"Whoa!” George breathed in my ear.

I shot her a warning glance. Luckily, Dana hadn’t heard a thing. She was glaring at Cal.

“So what do you have to say for yourself?” she demanded.

“I don’t know why you’re so mad at me,” Cal said in a surly tone. “I’m the one who should be mad. I mean, what kind of person won’t even help out her own brother when he needs a hand?” "Half-brother,” Dana snapped. “And as usual, you’re not listening to me. I don’t care if we’re family—I’m not going to be your shortcut back into the show world. Not until you prove to me that you’ve cleaned up your act for good.” She poked a finger in his face. “And bad-mouthing Payton all over the place isn’t helping your cause. I don’t care how badly she beats you in every class!”

I stepped back, pushing my friends with me. My head was spinning with what I’d just heard.

"I can’t believe this,” Bess exclaimed once we were safely away. "Dana and Cal are brother and sister?”

"Half brother and sister,” George corrected. “And now that she mentions it, I can sort of see the family resemblance.”

I didn’t say anything for a second. What did this mean? As far as I could tell, it just added one more wrinkle to an already rumpled and confusing case.

“Do you think they could be in cahoots?” I wondered at last. “Dana and Cal?” Bess shrugged. “Maybe.”

George glanced back toward the shed. "Although they didn’t sound too chummy just now,” she added. “Dana actually seemed upset that Cal doesn’t like Payton.”

"This probably explains why Cal was hanging around Dana’s stalls the other night,” I mused. “And why he wouldn’t tell Mickey what he was doing there. He must’ve been trying to catch Dana alone to try to talk her into training him or whatever.”

“So you don’t think he has anything to do with our case?” Bess asked.

"I didn’t say that. We did see him freak out after Payton did so well in that jumper class they were both in. And there’s still the Midnight connection.” I rubbed my forehead as if trying to jump-start my brain. The more information we got, the more muddled this case seemed.

We continued to discuss it as we resumed our walk. Unfortunately, we didn’t reach any new conclusions, and by the time we neared Dana’s bam, I was feeling frustrated. Why couldn’t I figure this one out? I had several distinct and troubling incidents, several promising suspects. But none of the pieces fit together!

When we reached Dana’s section of the barn, we saw a horse cross-tied in the aisle. Jen was hard at work currying the animal’s already spotless gray coat.

“Hi,” I said as we reached her. “Have you seen Payton lately?”

The young groom looked up with a smile. "I think I saw her go into the tack stall,” she said, gesturing with the curry comb she was holding. “She’s probably getting ready to tack up for the Grand Prix.”

"Thanks.” I led the way toward the tack stall.

"You’re not planning to talk to Payton about the case, are you, Nancy?” Bess asked as soon as we were out of the groom’s earshot. "Because she probably needs to focus right now with the Grand Prix coming up so soon.”

I frowned, realizing she was right. “Okay, we’ll just wish her luck and then leave her alone.” I sighed. "At this point it’s probably too late to solve this before the Grand Prix anyway.”

"That’s the spirit,” George joked.

I was rolling my eyes at her as we stepped into the tack stall. Out of the corner of one of those rolling eyes, I saw Payton bent over a saddle rack. She jerked back in surprise and straightened up when she heard us.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You startled me.”

“Sorry.” Noticing that she was holding a pocketknife with the blade open, I glanced at the rack in front of her. It held a saddle with a white pad and leather girth slung over the seat. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she said, reaching over to fiddle with the pad. Then she glanced at the knife. "I mean, I was just scraping some dried mud off my backup saddle, since my regular one got ruined. Dana doesn’t like seeing dirty tack, especially in the bigger classes.” She smiled weakly, then snapped the knife shut.

"Speaking of your ruined saddle, where did that knife come from?” Bess stared at it. “Did you leave it anywhere that someone could find it?”