NANCY DOVE to the right, pulling Bess with her. Inches from the rail the horse twisted and reared. McHugh and the saddle slid off her back and landed hard in the packed dirt. Frightened, Toot Sweet bolted, zigzagging around the track.
Nancy picked herself up off the ground and helped Bess to her feet. Cam vaulted the rail to help McHugh, who was still lying on the ground.
“Oh, Nancy. What happened?” Bess asked, her voice shaking.
“I don’t know,” Nancy said grimly, climbing over the rail to help Cam.
Thea and Bess were on her heels. “I’ll catch Toot Sweet before she hurts herself,” Thea said.
When Nancy reached Ken McHugh, the jockey was struggling to his feet and dusting himself off.
“What happened?” Cam asked furiously, not bothering to ask if McHugh was all right. “Toot Sweet could have injured herself and you, too!”
“Well, it wasn’t my fault!” McHugh snapped back. “The saddle slipped and the horse went crazy!”
“Why wasn’t the saddle cinched properly?” Cam bit out. “You should have checked it!”
“I did!” McHugh’s face turned as red as his hair. Bending down, he hefted the saddle to his knees. The cinch dragged against the ground. “Somebody must have loosened it. Maybe one of your enemies, Parker,” he added with a sneer.
Cam became very quiet and Nancy’s interest quickened. Had Cam Parker made the kind of enemies who would stoop to killing his jockey?
McHugh dropped the saddle and vaulted the rail. Cam, as if coming out of a trance, muttered, “I should see to Toot Sweet.”
Nancy nodded. Near the other end of the track she could make out Thea and a dozen other track workers finally getting control of the skittish filly. Cam ran in their direction.
“Let’s wait at the barns for them,” Nancy suggested to Bess, who by now had dusted herself off. “I’d like to ask some questions about that loosened cinch. There’s a lot going on here.” At Bess’s confused look, Nancy explained, “Cam was furious until McHugh zinged him with that line about his enemies.”
“What do you think he meant?” Bess wondered.
“I don’t know. But—”
“You intend to find out,” Bess finished for her. “I know, Nancy. I know.”
Nancy smiled to herself. Maybe there actually was a simple explanation for what had happened, but her detective instincts screamed that there was a mystery brewing right there at Churchill Downs. First McHugh’s argument with the guy with the broken nose, then the uncinched girth strap, and now the jockey’s remark about Cam’s enemies.
Bess and Nancy were waiting by Pied Piper’s stall when Thea finally returned, looking very worried. Seeing them, she stopped short, surprised. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot about you two.”
“How’s Toot Sweet?” Nancy asked.
“Oh, fine. She’d worked herself into a nervous lather, but Cam’s got her almost calm now. She’s stabled down in barn eight. I don’t understand how McHugh could be so careless,” she added, sounding angry.
It was clear to Nancy that Cam and Thea laid the blame at the jockey’s feet.
Pushing dark strands of hair out of her eyes, Thea said, “Whew! What a day. Why don’t you come with me while I check out another Derby favorite, Flash O’Lightnin’. He’s working out next. Then we still have time to catch a couple of races before we have to get ready for the party.”
“Party?” Bess asked, perking up.
“There’s a big party for racehorse owners, trainers, jockeys, and friends tonight,” Thea explained. She’d been so involved with Pied Piper and the other horses she’d forgotten to tell the girls about the elegant event.
Bess grabbed Nancy’s arm. “Well, let’s go see this Flash horse and make tracks out of here, then.”
She and Nancy walked with Thea across the stable area to the backstretch rail. There were several clusters of people there already. A gray horse was just charging from the gate. Flash O’Lightnin’ looked as fit and hard as Toot Sweet. For a moment, as he tore toward them, Nancy held her breath, afraid that something might happen to Flash and his jockey, too. But the gray horse with the jagged white blaze on its nose galloped around the curve without incident.
“He’s going to be tough to beat,” Thea predicted. “Even for Toot Sweet.”
“Isn’t Pied Piper working out today?” Nancy asked. She was anxious to see how her father’s Thoroughbred compared to the two favorites.
“His workout was this morning. You’ll see him tomorrow,” Thea assured her with a smile.
Only fifty feet away Nancy noticed Ken McHugh, his red hair glowing like a beacon, watching Flash through narrowed eyes. Apparently he also thought the colt would be hard to beat.
Beyond Ken stood a beautiful, friendly-looking, dark-haired girl wearing a full-length mink coat. It was late afternoon and still warm. She must be baking, Nancy thought, wondering why she would bother with the elegant fur.
Just after Flash’s time was announced over the loudspeaker, Nancy heard the girl’s soft laughter. Glancing at her, Nancy noticed that she kept shooting sidelong glances at Ken McHugh.
Nancy had turned to ask Thea who the girl was when Thea muttered under her breath, “Uh-oh. Here comes Eddie Brent. He’s Flash’s owner and trainer, not to mention the owner of Brentwood Stables in California. The guy with him is Ace Hanford, the jockey who just gave Flash his workout. He’s going to ride the colt in the Derby.”
“Why did you say ‘uh-oh’?” asked Bess.
“You’ll see,” Thea said grimly.
Eddie Brent and Ace Hanford were walking over to where they were standing by the back-stretch rail. “Why didn’t you bring out the whip sooner?” Brent demanded of the jockey in a voice loud enough for them all to hear. “Flash was just waiting for you to ask for some speed!”
Ace Hanford stayed calm. He seemed older and more assured than Ken McHugh and Jimmy Harris. Years of working outdoors had etched lines beside his eyes and weathered his skin to a deep bronze. He paid no attention to Eddie Brent’s ranting and raving.
“Did you hear Flash’s time, Thea, my girl?” Eddie Brent asked when he was at her side. “Flash is looking really fine. I’m afraid that horse of yours doesn’t stand a chance.” Brent was grinning from ear to ear.
“We’re gonna grind Toot Sweet in the finish, you just watch,” he continued. “And Pied Piper isn’t even in the running.”
“Guess we’ll just have to prove you wrong, huh?” Thea rejoined, a tight smile barely curving her lips. She pulled Nancy and Bess away as quickly as possible.
“Nice guy,” Bess observed sarcastically.
“Eddie talks big,” Thea said, “but he’s never had a Derby winner. Flash could be the one, though,” she added.
They watched the rest of the races, then checked on Pied Piper once again. By the time Nancy and Bess had left the barns to head back to their hotel, dusk had fallen. The track lights began coming on automatically. Soon it would be dark.
“Isn’t that Ken McHugh?” Bess asked, pointing ahead of her. McHugh was just exiting the stable area gate, a saddle in his hands.
“It sure is. And look, Bess. There’s that girl in the mink coat we saw earlier today.”
The girl was inside the stable area, talking to an older man with silvery hair who was wearing a gray flannel suit.
“Who do you suppose she is?” Bess asked, looking at the girl.
“I don’t know. Bess, would you mind if I talked to McHugh for just a minute? I’d like to ask him about that girth strap.”
“Sure. But make it fast. I don’t want to be late to the party, and I still don’t know what to do with my hair!” she declared, fidgeting with her baseball cap.
“Mr. McHugh?” Nancy called out as he was heading into the parking lot.
He stopped and turned back, eyeing Nancy warily. “Who wants to know?”
“My name’s Nancy Drew. I happened to be standing by the backstretch rail when your saddle uncinched during the workout earlier. I just wondered—”
“Uncinched?” He laughed harshly.
“Do you have any idea how it happened?” Nancy was about to tell McHugh she was a detective and had overheard the heavyset man threatening him earlier, but it wasn’t necessary. McHugh was already holding up the saddle and yanking at the girth strap. He shoved one end of the strap in front of Nancy’s nose.
“Does this look uncinched to you?” he demanded.
Nancy stared at the strap. The leather had been cut three-quarters of the way through. The rest was torn and frayed where it had broken loose.
“Someone cut this,” Nancy said quietly.
McHugh nodded, his nostrils flaring. “You got it right! Someone who wants me dead!”