Mystery of the Midnight Rider (Nancy Drew Diaries #3)(32)

George shrugged. "I don’t even remember when we mentioned the barbecue.”

Just then the crowd roared as the first rider entered the ring. "It’s starting,” Ned said. "We’ll have to talk about this later.”

For the next half hour, I did my best to focus on the action. The Grand Prix was exciting, but I couldn’t help feeling distracted. Why couldn’t I crack this case? There had to be something I was missing—

I tuned back in when I heard the crowd gasp. An older male rider on a fractious black horse had just knocked down the top pole on a jump. Another jump was coming up fast, and the horse was racing forward with its head straight up in the air, looking completely out of control. Sure enough, it veered sideways as it approached the next obstacle, a large, solid-looking jump with a pair of fake stone columns as standards.

“Oh!” I exclaimed along with everyone else as the horse crashed sideways into one of the columns, sending it flying. The horse stumbled over a pole and almost went down. The rider came off, hitting the ground hard and rolling out of the way of his mount’s flying hooves.

"Yikes,” Bess said. "I hope the rider’s okay.”

"He’s already getting up.” I clutched the edge of my seat and leaned forward, my gaze shifting back to the horse. It leaped over the scattered poles and glanced off the other standard, knocking that one over as well. Then it started galloping wildly around the ring, reins and stirrups flying, veering around the people who hurried in to try to catch it. Everyone gasped again as the horse headed for one of the other jumps, leaping over it wildly and knocking down a couple of more poles.

George squinted down toward the in-gate. “Check it out, there’s Payton. Let’s hope Midnight doesn’t see that other horse and get any ideas, huh?”

I turned to look. Payton was riding Midnight toward the gate. The big gelding looked magnificent—his bay coat gleamed, set off by his crisp white saddle pad. Dana was scurrying along beside the horse, talking a mile a minute, though we were way too far away to hear what she was saying.

Payton halted a few steps from the gate, watching with everyone else as the people in the ring finally caught the black horse. Meanwhile Dana stepped toward Midnight’s midsection, her hand reaching to move Payton’s leg aside. But Payton nudged her trainer’s hand away with her boot, then swung the horse aside and leaned forward from the saddle, slipping her own hand under the girth. I was too far away to see clearly, but I was pretty sure Dana had a frown on her face, though she stepped back as Payton straightened up again.

My friends were watching too. “What was that all about?” Ned wondered.

“Dana was trying to double-check that the girth is tight enough,

I think,” I said. “When I was a kid, my riding teacher used to do that before I rode. It’s a safety thing—you don’t want the girth to be too loose, or your saddle might slip.”

"I guess Payton wanted to check it herself,” Bess said. “Maybe she’s still mad at Dana from that blowup we overheard yesterday.”

"I wouldn’t blame her,” George put in.

“Maybe that’s it.” I frowned slightly as I glanced from Payton to Dana. “Or maybe there’s a reason Payton doesn’t trust Dana when it comes to her safety equipment.”

Ned shot me a worried look. “Do you think so?”

“It might be worth asking Payton about later,” I answered thoughtfully.

“Hey, Ned, here come your parents.” Bess pointed.

Ned stood for a better look. “Payton’s folks are with them,” he said. "That’s good—Mom was afraid their plane would be delayed and they’d miss Payton’s big moment.”

Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out to his parents, then waved so they could see where he was sitting. Moments later, the Nickersons and Payton’s parents were squeezing in beside us. Mr. Evans was a big man with a booming laugh, while Dr. Evans was petite and delicate-looking like her daughter.

“Made it in the nick of time!” Dr. Evans exclaimed, peering down at the ring.

Mr. Nickerson nodded. “Looks like Payton’s on deck.”

"Right,” I said, glancing out at the ring. The black horse was gone, and Payton was riding in. She started walking Midnight around at the end of the ring as the crew reassembled the jumps the black horse had knocked over.

"She’s looking good, isn’t she?” Mr. Evans said. “Focused. Strong. ”

"You must be very proud of her,” I said with a smile. "It’s amazing that she’s competing at this level at her age. That Evans Edge stuff is really working!”

Payton’s father chuckled. “She told you about that, eh?” "Uh-huh. She seems to take it pretty seriously.” I couldn’t help thinking that a certain aspect of the Evans Edge had almost ended up causing her to be suspended from competing. "Especially the part about signing her own paperwork at the shows instead of having Dana do it.”

"Oh, that.” Mr. Evans rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that’s a pain in the neck if you ask me—it means I’ve had to fax my signature to every dang show for the past three or four months, since she can’t legally sign on her own yet.” He smiled and shook his head. "Still, once Payton gets an idea in her head, there’s no changing her mind.”