Mystery of the Midnight Rider Read Free Page B

to show us a couple of more horses. "So which one are you riding in the Grand Prix?” Bess asked as she patted a pretty gray mare.
    Payton smiled. “I was just about to introduce you to that one. Come on, let’s go see Midnight.”
    We followed her to yet another stall. Inside stood a tall, impressive-looking dark bay without a speck of white on him anywhere. A weather-beaten man with slicked-back dark hair was running a brush down the horse’s long legs.
    "This is Mickey,” Payton said, gesturing toward the man. “He’s Midnight’s groom.” She introduced us, though Mickey hardly looked up from his task.
    "Midnight is gorgeous,” Bess said, reaching out to touch the horse’s velvety nose. The horse sniffed her hand, then snorted loudly, blowing horse snot all over Bess’s face and dress.
    "Yeah, and he knows it!” Payton laughed. “He’s quite a character. Hope he didn’t get you too gross.”
    “No biggie,” Bess said with a smile, reaching into her purse for a tissue. That’s one of the good things about Bess. She might look all girly and delicate, but it takes more than a little horse snot to faze her!
    Payton turned to Mickey. “I was thinking of taking him out for some hand grazing, if that’s okay.”
    Mickey just nodded, reaching for the halter hanging just outside the stall door and quickly buckling it onto the horse’s big head. Then Payton clipped a lead line to Midnight’s halter and led him out.
    “Wow, he looks even bigger out here,” George commented.
    “I guess a bigger horse must make those Grand Prix jumps look smaller, huh?” I joked.
    Payton chuckled. "It doesn’t hurt,” she agreed. “Do you guys want to tag along while I graze him?” She reached into her pocket and held her hand up to the horse’s muzzle. I wasn’t close enough to see what she’d pulled out, but whatever it was, the horse slurped it up eagerly and then nuzzled her for more.
    "What do you feed a horse like Midnight?” I asked. "Treats, I mean—like you just gave him.”
    “My horses love all kinds of treats.” Payton gave a light tug on the lead to get Midnight moving. "Most of them aren’t too picky— they’ll eat carrots, apples, mints, whatever. One or two are more particular, but most horses have at least one or two favorite snacks.”
    "Just like people, huh?” Ned said.
    We left the bam and headed over to a grassy area near the fence separating the fairgrounds from the parking lot. The bright sunlight bounced off the bumpers and mirrors of the many cars parked out there, and Midnight snorted and danced in place at first as he took it all in. But he settled quickly, lowering his head and nibbling at the grass.
    I glanced at Payton. She was watching her horse, a contented expression on her face. I hated to ruin her mood, but I was curious about what had happened earlier.
    “So that drugging thing was weird,” I said. “What do you think that’s all about?”
    Payton’s expression darkened. "I don’t know. But it’s not true.” “Nancy knows that,” Ned put in quickly. "I already explained that you’re not that kind of person.”
    Before Payton could say anything else, there was a buzz from the pocket of her breeches. “That’s my phone,” she said, fishing it out. “Dad’s right on schedule. ... Hi, Dad.”
    My friends and I drifted away to give her some privacy. “What’s with the questioning, Detective Drew?” George joked. "You think Payton has some kind of deep, dark mystery that needs solving?”
    I grinned. Like I said, my friends like to rib me about my interest in mysteries. "You never know,” I said. “Maybe it’s like we were saying before—someone could be trying to knock out the competition to improve their odds of winning the big-money classes.”
    "Or maybe it’s a mistake,” Ned said. “I doubt Payton would be mixed up in anything nefarious, even secondhand.” He shrugged. “Sorry, Nancy. You might be stuck just watching a horse show this weekend