“You’re telling me,” George agreed. “It looks like someone really has it in for Morning Glory.”
Nancy sighed, her blue eyes troubled. “I can’t believe someone would target a horse this way,” she said indignantly. “But why was the picture in Peter Greenbriar’s drawer? And how did it get Taberol on it?”
“He might have been keeping the stuff in his desk drawer,” George said.
“But I didn’t see any other traces of it there,” Nancy said. She frowned, trying to make sense of it all. “Suppose the person who wanted to poison Morning Glory hired a stranger to do the dirty work,” she thought out loud. “This photo could have been given to the stranger to help him or her identify the right horse.”
“Well, that theory lets Peter Greenbriar off the hook,” George pointed out. “He already knows Morning Glory.”
“I’m not letting him off the hook just yet,” Nancy declared. “But here’s another scenario. What if the culprit dropped the photo in the drawer accidentally while searching for something—like a file?”
“A file?” George asked, looking puzzled. “What kind of file?”
“If the sabotage at the hunt and the horse poisoning are connected,” Nancy reasoned, “the poisoner could have been searching for information on the Mill River Hunt. The Passanos’ barn would be a logical place to look, since Mrs. Passano is master of the hounds. And if he or she was in the barn anyway—”
“You’re not saying the animal activists are behind this,” George protested. “They love animals. They wouldn’t poison a horse.”
“But remember, there wasn’t enough Taberol to kill a horse,” Nancy reminded her friend. “It may have been meant only as a scare. Mark Plonsky could be trying to put pressure on the hunt club by attacking the Passanos’ farm. He could have gotten this photo somewhere and given it to one of the other activists to identify Morning Glory.”
George frowned. “I don’t know, Nan.” She paused. “What about one of the bidders for Morning Glory, like Alexa Shaw?” she suggested. “Someone might have been really bitter about Laura’s outbidding them at the auction. They might want to get back at her by poisoning him.”
“Maybe,” Nancy replied. She fell silent, considering that possibility.
“What do you make of the glue spot?” George went on, breaking into Nancy’s thoughts.
Nancy picked up the photo and touched the spot gently, careful not to dislodge the specks of powder. “It still feels a little sticky, like it came from a glue stick,” she commented, handing it over to George. “Maybe the poisoner ripped the picture from a photo album?” Nancy sat down, her mind spinning. At this point in her investigation, there were too many questions and not enough answers.
“Why don’t we see if Laura and her mother are awake,” George suggested. “I’m sure they’ll want to know about this new twist as soon as possible.”
“Good idea,” Nancy said. “Plus I want to show them the glove I found by the stuffed fox. I think I hear their voices downstairs. Let’s go.” She put the glove in her skirt pocket.
The two girls headed downstairs. They found Laura and her mother in the den, drinking iced tea.
“We made a big discovery,” Nancy announced. “I have a feeling it’s an important clue.” She and George showed Morning Glory’s snapshot to the Passanos and told them about finding it in Peter Greenbriar’s desk drawer.
“Do you recognize this photo, Laura?” Nancy asked, settling on the sofa as Mrs. Passano poured her a glass of iced tea.
Gazing at the photograph, Laura grew pale. “It’s Morning Glory, all right,” she answered, “but I don’t recognize this photo.” She paused, then asked, “What—what do you think this means, Nancy?”
“I’m not sure,” Nancy said. “But I think you ought to watch him during feeding time for the next few days.”
“Yes,” Laura said. “Maybe Peter and I can take turns.” She handed the snapshot back to Nancy, then slumped back listlessly in her chair.
“But are you sure you trust him?” Nancy had to ask. “After all, I found the photo in his desk drawer.”
“Peter doesn’t need a photo to recognize Morning Glory,” Mrs. Passano said. “He made a terrible mistake mixing up the two horses’ feed. But I still think the man is innocent.”
“I do, too,” Laura said firmly, sitting up straight. “He takes his job seriously. I can’t imagine him wanting to hurt Morning Glory—or any horse, for that matter.”
Mrs. Passano nodded in agreement. “What if Peter found the photograph somewhere else and just put it in his drawer?” she asked.
“Then why didn’t he mention it to anyone?” George countered.
“Perhaps he thought it had just fallen out of a file,” Mrs. Passano replied.
“I promise I’ll question him about the snapshot later,” Nancy agreed. “I’m not jumping to any conclusions right now. There are just too many possibilities.”
Briefly, she went on to tell Laura and her mother her theory about the photo being used by a stranger to identify Morning Glory. She didn’t mention that she thought the animal activists might be involved. She knew that the Mill River riders were already angry with Mark Plonsky and his friends. Until she had proof, she didn’t want to add to the hostility.
“By the way,” Nancy went on, holding out the brown leather glove, “I found this near the stuffed fox today. The tag inside says Marburg’s Saddlery Shop. Do you know the store?”
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Passano said. “It’s an old-fashioned saddlery in downtown Baltimore. They’ve been selling horse equipment and riding apparel for years.”
“Just about everyone who hunts around here has shopped at Marburg’s,” Laura added as she checked out the glove. “It’s not much of a clue. I wish I could say that I recognize this glove, but I don’t.”
“It’s possible that a rider simply lost the glove during the hunt today,” Mrs. Passano pointed out. “Maybe someone took it off while adjusting a saddle strap or something like that.”
“Or it could have fallen out of a rider’s pocket,” Nancy said. “Still, I like to follow all leads—even if they seem like long shots.”
“Well, it’s just about feeding time,” Mrs. Passano declared, handing the glove back to Nancy. “Why don’t you girls go up to the stables and make sure Morning Glory’s safe? I went out before the morning feeding and asked Peter to pay special attention to the feed—to make sure it was untainted.”
The three girls trooped out to the barn in silence, each one worried about Morning Glory. Inside, Peter Greenbriar was carrying buckets of feed to the various stalls. Horses nickered and bobbed their heads, anticipating their dinner.
While Laura and George went to check on Morning Glory, Nancy followed Peter Greenbriar into the feed room. “Excuse me,” she said, while the groom scooped feed into a bucket. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
He straightened up and said, “I’m really very busy, as you can see, miss.”
“I understand, but it won’t take more than a minute or two,” Nancy said pleasantly. She took the snapshot of Morning Glory from her skirt pocket. “Do you recognize this photograph?”
