Nancy replaced the soap and covered it with the bag. Nothing else in the car looked suspicious, so she climbed out and shut the door. As she headed back to the girls’ dorm, Bess appeared from the opposite direction.
“How was your walk with James?” Nancy asked.
“Fun,” Bess said. “And when we ran into Reed coming out of the test, the night got even better.”
Nancy laughed. “Are you paying attention to what the Fenwicks are wearing? Your column covers boys’ clothes, too, right?”
“Uh-huh, but the jeans they wore tonight won’t make an interesting story. I’ll have to pay extra attention to Reed’s riding outfits.” She shot Nancy a coy smile. “Just doing my job.”
“Where are the Fenwicks now?” Nancy asked, looking around.
“In the boys’ dorm,” Bess replied. “The teams have to get up early tomorrow for dressage.”
Nancy lowered her voice and told Bess about finding the bar of soap in James’s car. “I don’t know . . . soap is just a weird thing to have on the floor of your car,” she finished. “And the corners were scraped, like . . . well, someone might have written with it.”
“Do you really suspect James?” Bess asked, wide-eyed.
“Let’s just say I’ve added him to my list of suspects,” Nancy said. “He’s been at Green Spring all along, and he has a motive: getting Reed’s team to win.”
“I can’t believe James would go to that much trouble just to improve Reed’s chances of winning,” Bess said. “Plus, Clare’s been at Green Spring all along too. And don’t forget Mr. Bryant. Even though he wasn’t staying at the camp like Clare and James, his letter opener was near Rafael’s saddle. That’s pretty incriminating.”
“But why would Clare want to harm Green Spring when she’s on the team?” Nancy asked.
Bess shrugged. “I don’t know. Still, the soap proves nothing about James. It’s like Clare and her olive oil—no proof. Josh Bryant is much more likely.”
“Bess, I’ll make a deal with you,” Nancy said. “If nothing bad happens at the rally, I’ll stop suspecting James, and focus on Josh. After all, James is here, and Josh isn’t.”
“Makes sense,” Bess agreed. “Now let’s get our beauty sleep, Nan. I have to wake up early to cover the latest fashions in dressage!”
• • •
At breakfast the next morning, Mrs. Rogers gave her team a brief pep talk, then everyone headed for the Green Spring stables to prepare the horses for the morning event.
As stable manager, Cordelia Zukerman gave the other four team members advice on bathing and grooming the horses, and cleaning their tack. She made sure the stalls were always clean, and that feeding went according to schedule. From time to time, judges would roam the stables, evaluating each team’s stable management skills.
“Cordelia, you’re great at organizing us,” Katie pronounced as Cordelia helped her polish stirrups.
“Could you help me brush Dido’s tail please, Cordelia?” Akiyah asked, looking frustrated as her mare swished her tail at flies.
“How do I tie my stock?” Rafael asked. He was already dressed in formal dressage wear: a black riding coat, ivory-colored breeches, black boots, and a black derby hat. In front of a makeshift mirror in the tack room, he struggled with his stock, which resembled a large white tie.
“Dressage clothes look totally Victorian,” Nancy told George in a low voice. “I mean, what news is there for Bess to cover if the style never changes?”
George shrugged. “Maybe the sock colors change each decade?”
“Well, even if the fashion hasn’t changed since the eighteen hundreds, the clothes are kind of cool to look at,” Nancy said, watching Rafael secure his tie with a large gold pin.
Mrs. Rogers bustled into the tack room. “Hey kids, why are you dressing so soon? Green Spring’s round isn’t scheduled until eleven. You’ll get horse hairs all over your beautiful clothes!”
“No, we won’t,” Clare protested. “Our horses are squeaky clean. General Cordelia has made sure of that. Still, I think you guys are stupid to get dressed now. It’s only ten.”
Akiyah rolled her eyes. Leaning toward Nancy and George, she whispered, “Clare’s being especially bad these days because none of her friends are here to distract her.”
James called the other counselors over. “Why don’t we go over to the dressage ring now and watch the other teams? I don’t want to get in Cordelia’s way.”
The counselors told their team they’d see them later, then set off through the cluster of barns for the ring. As they walked, Nancy observed various rally teams tending to their horses. The morning light bounced off a variety of sizes and colors of horses. Newly brushed coats gleamed like satin. A beautiful chestnut mare, her coat a coppery brown, waited patiently while her owner combed her mane. A bright yellow palomino gelding stood next to her, swishing flies with his long white tail.
The counselors arrived at the dressage ring, which was in a grassy meadow near the amusement park. Bess was at the side of the ring, jotting down notes. Parents, counselors, and pony clubbers made up the rest of the audience.
A judge sat in a folding chair at the end of the ring by the letter C. He was studying a rider on a frisky bay.
Nancy did a double take. The judge looked familiar. She moved closer. There was no doubt about it—she’d know Josh Bryant anywhere. His pudgy frame overhung the flimsy chair, and his blond hair looked even greasier than it did.
“Do you see what I see?” George asked Nancy, appearing at her side.
“I wonder if Mrs. Rogers knows he’s here,” Nancy said. “I’m amazed he’s qualified to be a judge.”
The Green Spring team trotted up to the ring. “Hey, you guys look sharp,” Elsa told them as the other counselors and Mrs. Rogers clustered around. The four riders looked terrific, Nancy thought, in their black habits and derbies. And their horses looked striking, too, all clean and brushed.
“Good luck, guys,” James said, smiling. “We’re all rooting for you.”
Nancy took Mrs. Rogers aside and asked if she realized that Mr. Bryant was judging. With her hand shading her eyes, Mrs. Rogers looked toward the end of the ring. “I was hoping he wouldn’t be here,” she said. “But I’m not surprised. Josh has been judging events for years. Since he doesn’t have a team entered, he’s considered impartial. Of course, you and I know he’s not.”
The team scheduled before Green Spring finished, and everyone clapped. “Whoops, I’d better go wish Rafael luck,” Mrs. Rogers said. “He’s up first.”
A couple minutes later, an announcer said, “The Green Spring Pony Club! Rafael Estevez, on Clown.” Rafael walked Clown into the ring and saluted to Mr. Bryant. He expertly took the dappled gray horse through the intricate dressage paces. After a perfect round he left the ring, to the sound of polite applause. Katie followed on Black Comet. Mr. Bryant scowled as he watched his former pupil, but Nancy could tell the audience was impressed.
Clare went next, with Akiyah standing by. After saluting Mr. Bryant, Clare guided Victoria in tight circles of walks and trots. Victoria chomped at the bit, tossing her head nervously. “Settle down, girl,” Clare whispered as she trotted by Nancy and George. But Victoria wasn’t listening. Her mouth was foaming, and her eyes rolled.
“That mare is so skittish,” Mrs. Rogers murmured. “She’s the reason Clare didn’t make last year’s team. I thought she seemed calmer this year. Boy, did I misjudge that.”
Clare urged Victoria into a perfectly controlled canter down the side of the ring. “Clare’s a good rider, though,” Elsa declared. “I’ll think she’ll pull this off.”
A loud explosion suddenly shook the air. Smoke spewed from a clump of bushes next to Mr. Bryant’s chair. Everyone jumped.
Victoria neighed in terror. Rearing up, she sprang forward and bolted through the ring. The audience screamed as the mare crashed through the short picket fence.
Clare yanked the reins, desperately trying to keep Victoria in the unpopulated field away from the fair rides. But it was no use. Victoria was uncontrollable. She raced into the amusement park area, and narrowly skirted the roller coaster. A cry rose from the crowd as she galloped straight for the merry-go-round.
“Turn her, Clare,” Mrs. Rogers shouted, “or she’ll trample all those kids!”