COME ON, BESS!” Nancy cried, running around the side of the house in the direction of the gunshot.
“Be careful, Nan,” Bess shouted as she chased after her.
The back grounds of the house were empty. Nancy stopped short, glancing around. Her gaze stopped on the stables. Something was wrong. The door was open.
“Bess, look!” Nancy grabbed Bess’s arm. “Someone’s inside the stables!”
“Someone with a gun,” Bess reminded her, swallowing hard.
“I’m going to check it out. Evan could be in trouble. You can stay here and—”
“No!” Bess shook her head adamantly. “I’m coming with you.”
Nancy gave her loyal friend a warm smile. “Come on, then.”
They ran quietly across the grass and through the back gate. The stables looked as though they’d been empty for years. Nancy crept inside the door. Morning sunshine filtered in through dust-thickened cracks. Stale air filled Nancy’s nostrils. A quick glance told her there was no one inside.
“The place looks deserted,” Bess whispered, following-Nancy inside. She huddled close to her friend’s side.
Movement caught Nancy’s eye. A scythe, hung on the far wall at the end of the stalls, was gently swinging back and forth. Had someone bumped it? She squeezed Bess’s arm to stop her from talking and pointed to the rocking scythe. Bess’s blue eyes widened.
Nancy crept forward, careful to be as quiet as possible. Bess followed close behind. They were halfway down the row of stalls when the door behind them was suddenly slammed shut!
“Nancy!” Bess cried.
Nancy whirled around and raced back. She yanked on the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. It was locked tight.
Hearing running footsteps, Nancy called out. But the footsteps just ran on.
“We’re locked in,” she said to Bess. “Someone did this on purpose. Someone who knew we were coming here!”
“Evan?” Bess asked, her voice quavering.
“He’s the most likely suspect.” Nancy was grim. “Wait!” Nancy sniffed and her blue eyes widened. She caught the distinct scent of lighter fluid and burning wood.
Bess screamed. “The stables are on fire!”
Nancy whipped around. From the outside wall, a crackle of flames was followed by a wave of thick, choking smoke. Heat blasted toward Nancy, scorching her face. Whoever had locked them in had set the barn on fire!
“We’ve got to find something to smash through the door!” she cried, her gaze darting feverishly around the dilapidated stables.
Bess coughed and pulled the bottom of her shirt from the waistband of her shorts, holding it to her mouth.
Nancy ran to the wall where the scythe was hanging. Seconds counted. If she didn’t hurry they would both die!
She grabbed the scythe, then hurried back to the barn door. Bess hadn’t moved; her eyes were round with fear.
Nancy shoved her shoulder against the door and pushed, trying to break the lock with her weight. The wood groaned, but the door remained locked and in place.
Hefting the scythe, Nancy hurled it at the door with all her might. The wood splintered beside the lock with a loud crack. A small hole opened. Nancy gulped in fresh air, then slammed the scythe against the door once again. With a last squeal of metal the padlock on the outside broke free, and she and Bess tumbled into the sunshine.
They ran far from the burning stables, both girls coughing and choking. By now flames were licking at the roof. Nancy and Bess stood still, gulping in lungfuls of fresh air.
“What are you doing here?” a stern voice called out.
Nancy looked up. A policeman was standing in front of her, staring at her as if she were a criminal!
“We were caught in the barn. We just escaped,” Nancy explained. A wave of relief passed over her as she heard the far-off wail of a fire engine.
“Come with me,” the stern-faced policeman ordered. “You, too,” he said to Bess.
“We need to get to a phone,” Nancy protested. “Someone tried to kill us! We were supposed to meet Evan Johnson here. This is his home, but then we heard a gunshot, and—”
“Save it for Lieutenant Masterson,” the policeman ordered. “You can tell him the whole story at the station.”
“The station!” Nancy echoed in amazement. “You’re taking us in? On what charge?”
His gaze was cold. “Vandalism and arson,” he said flatly.
Nancy was shocked. She tried to tell him that he was wasting time, but the policeman wouldn’t listen. The officer ordered her and Bess into the backseat of a police cruiser and quickly drove them to the Louisville police station.
Lieutenant Masterson was a tall, thin man with red hair and a no-nonsense attitude. “Are these the vandals?” he asked the policeman who’d brought Nancy and Bess in.
“Yes, sir.”
“Vandals?” Nancy couldn’t believe her ears. “We didn’t vandalize anything! We were set up!”
Nancy stared at the lieutenant, her chin determined. Someone must have tipped the police off. How else had they gotten to Evan Johnson’s so fast?
“How did you know about the burning stables?” Nancy demanded, watching Lieutenant Masterson’s face closely.
“We had an anonymous phone tip,” he admitted.
“An anonymous phone call. Someone called and told you the stables were burning?”
“We were informed that vandals had started a fire.”
Nancy blinked several times, her mind racing. “Was it a man who called?” she asked. When Lieutenant Masterson nodded, she added soberly, “It must have been Evan Johnson. He was the only person who knew where we would be.”
Lieutenant Masterson cleared his throat and said dryly, “Ms. Drew, realize what you’re saying. Mr. Johnson is a respected member of this community.”
“Who may be a criminal,” Nancy said tersely.
“Do you have any proof to substantiate your claims?”
“He locked us in the stables and left us to die!” Bess cried in disbelief. “What more proof do you need?”
“He was going to bring in a pitcher,” Nancy put in, her words tumbling over one another in alarm as she realized she’d been duped by Evan. She quickly explained about Walt’s drink being drugged. “Did he bring a pitcher in? He said he was going to have it tested for drugs.”
Lieutenant Masterson frowned. “No pitcher was brought in to my knowledge, but let me make a call.”
While the lieutenant checked with the crime lab, Nancy glanced anxiously at the clock on the wall behind his desk. The minutes were ticking away. It was already two o’clock! Somehow she had to convince Masterson they needed to chase down Evan and Laura Johnson before it was too late!
She realized now that Evan and Laura must have been working together—and it probably was all because of money. They must be near bankruptcy to be so desperate. That’s why one of them—probably Laura—had drugged both Pied Piper and Flash. She and Evan wanted both horses out of the race. Then they gave Toot Sweet a much lighter dose to throw suspicion off them.
“No one brought in a pitcher for testing,” Lieutenant Masterson said. He looked a little confused, as if he were finally starting to believe Nancy and Bess were innocent victims.
“Walt Collins was drugged last night,” Nancy said, hammering her point home. “Ken McHugh was drugged a few days ago. Someone’s done it on purpose, and I’m almost certain it had to be Evan Johnson and his daughter, Laura.”
“Maybe you should start at the beginning,” Lieutenant Masterson suggested.
Once again Nancy glanced at the clock. Quickly and concisely, she brought the lieutenant up to date, telling him everything she’d learned over the past week. She told him about Dollar Bill, U.J.’s will, Evan and Laura’s probable need for cash, and even her suspicions about Cameron Parker and Eddie Brent. Finally she pleaded, “We’ve got to get to the racetrack! Come with me and I’ll prove I’m right!”
“Okay.” Masterson nodded. His attitude had changed. Nancy realized that she’d convinced him that she was no criminal and that she needed help.
“There are too many things that have happened that don’t add up,” he told her. “At the very least, Mr. Johnson owes us an explanation. Let’s go.”
Nancy and Bess followed the lieutenant out to one of the patrol cars. She and Bess and another officer climbed into the back seat. Lieutenant Masterson and a third officer settled themselves in the front. Lights flashing and siren wailing, Masterson drove them toward the racetrack.
Nancy sat on the edge of her seat. Derby post time was five-thirty! How would they ever find Evan Johnson in the huge crowd?
“Oh, I wish I knew that Walt was okay!” Bess moaned as they sped through a now-deserted Louisville. Everyone was at Churchill Downs. “Do you think Walt’ll be riding Toot Sweet?”
“Let’s hope so,” Nancy said grimly.
The officer sitting in the front passenger seat craned his neck, turning to look at them in horror. “Not racing? Toot Sweet is the filly of the decade! She’s got to race!”
The filly of the decade. Thoughts clicked in place in Nancy’s mind, like the tumblers of a lock. Toot Sweet was the filly of the decade. She’d received national attention. She was a newsmaker. With Ken McHugh’s and Walt’s attempted murders, the filly was an even bigger story! Her fame had undoubtedly grown outside of racing circles.
In fact, Nancy realized, if Toot Sweet won the Derby, she would be famous. Laura Johnson, as owner of Toot Sweet’s breeding rights, would have other owners pounding on her door, begging to breed their stallions to Toot Sweet.
“I think I just figured out why Walt was drugged,” Nancy murmured, explaining how the extra publicity would help the Johnsons.
But why McHugh? she asked herself.
Churchill Downs was a madhouse. Traffic was jammed for miles around the track and even the police couldn’t get through. After fifteen minutes of barely moving, Lieutenant Masterson said, “Come on, let’s go.” With that, they all climbed out of the car and ran to the grandstand gates.
Nancy, Bess, and the officers stuck together, fighting their way through the crowds to the stables.
Nancy recognized a heavyset man arguing with one of the other Derby jockeys in the stable area. Grabbing Lieutenant Masterson’s arm, she cried, “That’s Dollar Bill—the bookie I heard threatening Ken McHugh.”
“Come on!” Lieutenant Masterson ordered the other two officers. “Let’s get him.”
Dollar Bill glanced up, saw the lieutenant and his men, and pushed the jockey toward them, blocking the officers’ way. The bookie zigzagged toward the main grandstand, shoving people out of his way.
Nancy grabbed Bess’s arm. “Let’s look for Evan and Laura. I’m sure they’re both here. Evan thinks he’s gotten rid of us, so he probably feels safe.”
“Where could they be?” Bess asked. “We’ve searched the grandstands and the stable area.”
Nancy glanced toward the clubhouse. Skye Terrace. Millionaire’s Row. “It’s almost post time, Bess. They must already be seated. Come on!”
Nancy practically pulled Bess through the crowds as they headed for the outdoor stairs to the exclusive seating area.
A burly security guard stood halfway up the steps, guarding the glass-enclosed seating area. Nancy rushed up to him. “I’ve got to speak to someone inside.” she explained. “It’s an emergency!”
“Yes, ma’am. It always is,” he answered in a sour voice.
“No, really. I have to find someone. It’s important.” A matter of life or death! was on the tip of her tongue, but she knew he wouldn’t believe her if she said it.
“Sorry, ma’am. No one enters without a ticket.”
Bess tugged at Nancy’s sleeve. “The horses are walking to the gate!” she cried.
The guard glanced over his shoulder, and Nancy took advantage of his lapse to dart around him, taking the stairs two at a time. Shouts and screams filled the air. The crowd was roaring, cheering for their favorites.
At the top of the stairs Nancy was reaching for the doorknob as the door opened.
Laura Johnson stepped into the door frame and stopped short right in front of Nancy. Her eyes filled with shock. “You’re alive!”
“That’s right,” Nancy said grimly.
With a scream, Laura ran past her and down the stairs, her shoulder bumping Nancy’s. Nancy stumbled, losing her balance and landing against the stair rail.
Suddenly she was slipping backward over the rail. Her hand reached out, clutching for a hold, but grabbed only air.
It was no use! She was going to fall fifty feet onto the crowd below!