“Nancy!” Bess and Ned came running from the
other side of the parking lot.
Ned reached her first. “Are you all right?” He placed
both hands on her shoulders, then gave her a hug.
Still shaken, Nancy could only nod. Ned looked
toward the open door. “Is something in there?” His
fingers tightened on her shoulders.
Bess jogged up, gasping for breath. Her eyes
widened when she, too, saw the gaping doorway. “Who
. . . what's in there?” she stammered.
Nancy shook her head. “It's all right. No one's in
there. At least no one human.”
Ned cocked one eyebrow at her. Nancy walked up
to the trailer door, leaned in, and reached around the
hay net. When her fingers touched the lifelike latex
skin of the mask, she shivered.
After pulling out the mask, she held it over her face,
then turned toward her friends. Bess shrieked.
“Meet our thief,” Nancy said as she lowered the
mask.
“You mean the guy wore a mask?” Ned asked.
Nancy stretched it out. The skin color and texture
made it look real. “Right. No wonder Roberta Flanagan
said he looked deformed.”
Bess wrinkled her nose. “That thing is really creepy-
looking.”
“But effective,” Nancy said. “Our thief is being
careful not to be identified.”
Ned touched the bulging eye. “We'd better show
this to Texel.”
“We should bring Texel here,” Nancy said. “I'm
going to hang the mask back up in the trailer so he can
see where it was. He and his men might find
fingerprints inside the trailer, too.”
Bess pointed to the side of the trailer. “Look, there's
a dent right over the wheel. That will help us
remember which one it is.”
After climbing inside the trailer, Nancy hung the
mask back on the hook. Pushing aside the hay net, she
peered over the divider into the back of the trailer.
Was the thief planning to use this to haul away a stolen
horse?
The trailer wasn't hitched to a vehicle, but Nancy
thought maybe the thief was going to back a truck up
to it later, after the excitement had died down.
Nancy could only hope that they'd catch the thief
before he did steal a horse.
Ned led the way back to Barn A, where they found
Texel talking to a half dozen irate horse owners. One of
the owners was shouting about the lack of security.
“We're doing everything we can,” Texel explained.
The owner didn't act reassured. “If someone almost
got away with stealing a horse, it's not enough.”
Gesturing for Nancy, Ned, and Bess to follow him,
Texel moved down the aisle and away from the crowd.
Nancy figured he was grateful for an excuse to get
away.
“Did you find anything?” he asked, his tone urgent.
“We found a mask in one of the trailers,” Nancy told
him.
“A mask, huh?” Rocking back on the heels of his
boots, Texel gave Nancy, Bess, and Ned a skeptical
look.
“We all saw it,” Bess said emphatically.
“And it explains why Ms. Flanagan thought the
thief's face was deformed,” Nancy added.
“All right,” Texel said. “Let's go look at it.”
Nancy led the way through the parked vehicles with
Ned, Bess, and Texel right behind her. When she
rounded the Twin Meadows van, she stopped dead.
The gray horse trailer was gone.
“Hey, where'd it go?” Bess asked in surprise.
“Wasn't this where it was parked?”
Ned looked around. “Yes. Someone must have
moved it.”
“All right, where's this mask?” Texel asked. His face
was red from the hike in the hot sun. Sweat rolled
down his forehead.
“Uh . . .” Nancy glanced at Ned, but he could only
shrug his shoulders. “It was in the trailer that used to
be parked right here.”
“You mean you lost a trailer?” Texel scowled.
Ned, Nancy, and Bess all nodded.
“Wait a minute. Is this some kind of prank?” Texel's
voice grew low and threatening. “Some kind of early
Halloween joke?”
“No, sir,” Nancy said quickly. “I know it seems
strange, but somebody must have seen me find the
mask. As soon as we left, he or she moved the trailer.”
“Look, there are some marks in the gravel.” Ned
pointed to what could have been a tire track. “It took
us about fifteen minutes to find you and get back here.
That gave somebody plenty of time to hitch up the
trailer and take it somewhere else.”
Texel wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “That's a
lot of if s.” After folding the handkerchief, he stuffed it
back in his pocket. “Next time be sure you've got
something.” With an exasperated grunt at Nancy, Bess,
and Ned, Texel stomped off.
Ned threw up his hands. “That's it. I'm not helping
Texel anymore. He and his men can solve their own
crimes.”
“I agree,” Bess said.
“He's just frustrated because he's not getting
anywhere and everybody's breathing down his neck,”
Nancy said. Hands on hips, she scanned the parking
lot. “So do you think the trailer's still on the
showgrounds?”
Bess and Ned groaned.
“Nancy!” Bess declared. “Give it up. Didn't you hear
Texel?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nancy grinned at her two friends.
Bess's nose was getting sunburned, and Ned's brow
was sweaty. “Let's get something to drink, then see
what Lee Anne's up to. I feel as if we've spent our
whole day hunting for nonexistent criminals.”
“That's because we have,” Ned said as they started
back.
As Nancy followed her friends, she thought about
the attempted theft, the mask, and the disappearing
trailer. All the clues added up to one thing—the thief
was someone who knew the showgrounds and could
slip in and out of the barns without raising anyone's
suspicion. Someone who had to wear a mask so he
wouldn't be recognized.
But who?
Nancy let out a breath in frustration. Hundreds of
men at the show fit that description—owners, grooms,
riders. Texel and his guards couldn't watch every horse
every second.
When the trio reached Barn C, they found Lee
Anne in the aisle grooming a horse in cross ties.
“You found a mask?” She looked as surprised as
Texel after they had told her the story.
“And lost it again,” Bess said.
Lee Anne giggled. “Wearing a mask sounds like
something Michael would do. Last October he scared
Gilly and me half to death with a Halloween mask. He
popped out of one of the stalls.”
Nancy patted the horse. The name Divine was
etched on a brass nameplate on the side of his halter.
“What did the mask look like?”
; “Kind of like this.” Twisting her lips, Lee Anne
grimaced at Nancy. “Only worse because one of the
eyeballs hung out.”
Nancy's eyebrows shot up; Ned's jaw dropped; and
Bess reacted by opening her eyes wide in surprise.
“What?” Lee Anne stopped brushing the horse.
“What did I say?”
“Nothing!” Nancy blurted out. She shot Ned and
Bess a don't-say-a-word warning.
Instantly Bess plucked a curry comb from the
grooming box. “Need help?” she asked.
“Sure.” Lee Anne gestured to the horse's other side.
“I need to get Divine polished and ready for this
evening. Michael's riding him in an Intermediate One
test.”
Nancy was glad Bess had distracted Lee Anne.
There was no way Nancy wanted her to know that she
had just described the mask the thief had worn.
“Ned, didn't you want to look at those belts again?”
Nancy asked him. Taking Ned's hand, she tugged him
down the aisle.
“Uh, sure,” Ned said. “We'll see you guys later,” he
called.
When they were out of earshot, Nancy stopped
outside the barn door. “Did you hear that? Lee Anne
described the mask perfectly!” she exclaimed.
“Do you think Michael's involved?” Ned asked.
“I don't know. We'll have to find out where he was
after he rode. Still, the facts do add up.” Nancy put up
a finger. “Number one, he knows the barns. Two, he
knows the horse that was almost stolen. Three, he
needs money. Four, he had a mask like the thief s.”
“I don't know, Nan. Lee Anne keeps saying how
ambitious Michael is. Why would a rider working
toward being on the Pan American team jeopardize his
chances by stealing a horse?”
Nancy's eyes lit up. “Maybe because the theft might
actually improve his chances! Come on. I need to
check out a hunch.”
Nancy hurried across the showgrounds to the
secretary's booth, a place where owners and riders
entered their horses, paid fees, and checked on their
standings. The small building was bustling with activity.
“May I see the entry list for this evening's
Intermediate One test?” Nancy asked a harried woman
who was pulling prize ribbons from a box. Without
pausing, the woman nodded to a stack of papers. “It
would be in there.”
Leafing through the stack of papers, Nancy found
the list. All the horses and riders entered in the test
Michael was riding that evening were itemized.
Nancy ran her finger down the list. There. Roberta
Flanagan and Sweet and Klean.
“Look,” she whispered excitedly to Ned. “Roberta
and her horse are competing against Michael and
Curio tonight. Gilly said that at the last show, Sweet
and Klean beat Michael by a lot. That gives Michael
another reason to steal her horse—he's so competitive,
he'd do anything to win.”
6. Missing!
“Stealing a horse just to win a class at a horse show?”
Ned shook his head in disbelief. “That seems pretty
far-fetched, Nan.”
“Not if you're as competitive as Michael.” Nancy
continued to flip through the prize lists. “Don't you
remember what he said when he heard that Valerie
Dunn's horse had injured its hoof? Michael seemed
positively happy.”
Ned shrugged. “That just proves he likes to win.”
“This is what I was hunting for.” Nancy held up a list
of riders entered in an Intermediate Two test
scheduled for the next morning. “Look.” She tapped
her finger on a name halfway down the list. “Valerie
Dunn. She was supposed to compete against Michael
tomorrow.”
“That does seem like more than a coincidence,” Ned
agreed.
As Nancy stacked the prize lists, she mulled over the
evidence that pointed to Michael. He'd been warming
up Curio when the fire was set, so he couldn't have
been responsible for that incident. Unless he was
working with someone. But who? And what would that
person's motive be?
She shook her head, realizing how few answers she
had. “At dinner tonight we need to keep our ears and
eyes open,” Nancy told Ned as they left the secretary's
booth. “Michael may let something important slip.”
Ned made a face. “Hey, what happened to having a
plain old fun evening?”
Smiling up at him, Nancy linked her arm through
his. “Oh, I think we can manage to fit in a little fun.”
“So, what do you think, Bess?” Nancy turned slowly,
modeling her new skirt and red top. Her hair was
brushed back in soft waves, and her cheeks were
tanned from the day in the sun.
“You look great.” Bess wore a knit dress and sandals.
Her new turquoise earrings dangled from her ears.
It was seven o'clock. The two girls were dressing in
the room they were sharing with Lee Anne. They were
about to meet Ned and Gunter.
“You look great, too,” Nancy said as she swung open
the door to the room. “We'd better hurry. Lee Anne
and Michael are picking us up out front.”
“Michael's driving?” Bess asked as they walked into
the hall.
“Right. He borrowed one of Klaus's cars.” Nancy
locked the door, then followed Bess down the corridor.
When they reached the lobby, the girls spied Ned and
Gunter.
Gunter was wearing new jeans and a light blue shirt
with a button-down collar. His sleeves were rolled up
casually, and his wavy blond hair was slicked down.
Ned was dressed in khakis and a polo shirt.
“Hey, you two look great,” Ned said.
“You don't look too shabby either,” Bess answered.
Gunter pointed proudly to the label on his jeans.
“This brand is hard to get in Germany. I bought five
pairs to take home.”
“How long will you be in Illinois?” Bess asked as
they headed for the main doors.
“About a month. Usually Americans come to
Germany to train in dressage,” he explained. “But I
wanted to learn more about American techniques.”
As they stepped outside, Michael and Lee Anne
were just pulling up.
“Our chariot awaits,” Ned whispered to Nancy as
they approached a dusty, dented station wagon. Ned
opened the back door, then gestured for Nancy to
climb in. Nancy slid in next to Bess, who'd gotten in
from the other side.
Lifting her nose, she sniffed. The whole car smelled
like manure. She glanced over her shoulder. The back
of the wagon was piled high with buckets, blankets, and
a bag of grain.
“Ah, what a great aroma,” Gunter said.
“It must be Nancy's new perfume,” Ned joked, and
everybody laughed.
Michael drove the car out of the motel drive. While
the others talked about the show, he stared intently
ahead, as if preoccup
ied. Nancy wondered what he was
thinking.
“I invited Gilly along,” Lee Anne said, “but after that
horse was almost stolen, Klaus was adamant about her
keeping an eye on Aristocrat all night.”
“That doesn't sound like much fun,” Bess said.
Michael snorted. “She's not paid to have fun.”
Lee Anne frowned at him. Since Lee Anne was
sharing the room with Nancy and Bess, Nancy knew
how much time and effort she had taken with her
makeup and hair. Nancy bet Michael hadn't even
noticed how pretty Lee Anne looked.
“Where are we going to eat?” Ned asked.
“I thought we'd try the Steak House,” Lee Anne
said. “Klaus recommended it, and it's just a five-minute
drive away.”
Fifteen minutes later the group was seated around a
large table overlooking a pasture filled with horses. A
round of sodas had been served.
Lee Anne and Gunter were explaining the different
dressage movements to Bess, Nancy, and Ned. Michael
had slumped down in his seat, his expression sullen.
Michael was handsome, Nancy decided after
watching him for a moment. She knew a lot of girls
would be attracted to him. Still, she wondered why Lee
Anne seemed so crazy about him. Even away from the
showgrounds, he acted tense. Except for their interest
in horses, they seemed to have nothing in common.
“The Grand Prix is the ultimate test.” Nancy tuned
in to what Lee Anne was saying. “The horse has to
perform difficult movements like the passage you saw
Curio do this morning during his test.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “You'd hardly call that
hopping up and down a passage.”
Lee Anne cleared her throat. “Well, I thought you
did fine—”
“Except it's what the judges thought that counts,”
Michael cut her off. “And they showed me what they
thought by giving me a score of sixty-four.”
“Sixty-four's pretty good,” Gunter said.
Michael turned his dark eyes on him. “Right. Like
you'd be satisfied with a sixty-four.”
“If my horse did his best, yes.” Gunter nodded
emphatically.
“That's a laugh. You Germans never score lower
than a sixty-seven. So even if my horse did his best,
you'd still win. Just like in the Olympics.”
Slowly Gunter set down his soda glass. “Would you
like to explain that remark?” he asked politely.
“You know what I'm talking about. Dressage is big