The groom started. “Why, it’s Morning Glory!”
“Yes, but do you recognize this particular photograph?” Nancy asked.
Greenbriar looked at Nancy suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve never seen this photo, miss, if that’s your question. But why are you asking?”
“I was looking in your desk drawer for a pen, and I found this,” Nancy explained. “See? It has a spot of glue on the back, with a few grains of what looks like Taberol on it.” Nancy showed him the back of the photo, hoping to startle him into telling her the truth.
“I don’t know anything about this,” the groom said. “Someone must have left it in my desk drawer.” He stared at the floor, his face twitching slightly.
“Did you by any chance lose a glove?” Nancy pressed him.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “But I told you, I can’t talk now. I’m busy—very busy.”
Nancy gave a shrug. “I thought you wanted to help the Passanos find out who poisoned Dundee,” she said.
“I—I don’t know who did it,” the groom stammered, heading toward the door. “So sorry. Got to feed the horses.”
Nancy watched as he hurried out of the room with a clatter of feed buckets. Why is he being so evasive? she asked herself. Instinctively, she knew that Peter Greenbriar was hiding something. But what?
• • •
“Nancy, George,” Mrs. Passano said the next morning as the two girls joined her in the kitchen. She handed them plates of homemade waffles. “Laura just went to help Peter bring the horses in from the pasture. She thought you might like to go on a trail ride with her later this morning. It will certainly be more relaxing than yesterday’s hunt.”
Nancy and George laughed. “Skydiving would be more relaxing than yesterday’s hunt,” George joked, rubbing her leg, which was still sore from the fall she’d taken the day before.
“A trail ride sounds great, Mrs. Passano,” Nancy said brightly.
After finishing breakfast, Nancy and George headed up to the barn to see if they could help out before they changed for the trail ride. It looked like it was going to be another gorgeous, sunny fall day, Nancy thought. She felt her spirits lift at the prospect of a good cross-country ride without having to chase a fox.
But as they neared the barn, they saw Laura running from the direction of the pasture, her long mahogany brown hair flying around her shoulders. Peter was behind her.
Nancy caught her breath. Something was wrong, she realized, terribly wrong. Her heart pounding, she sprinted toward Laura.
“Nancy, George!” Laura shouted, her face tight with fear. “Morning Glory’s gone! My beautiful horse is gone!”
7
Something Crops Up
Nancy felt stunned. “Morning Glory disappeared from his stall?” she asked.
“No, from the pasture,” Laura wailed. She began to sob. “Ask—ask Peter to tell you.” With trembling hands, she wiped away tears from her eyes, only to have more gush out. “I have to tell Mom.”
Without waiting for Nancy’s response, Laura dashed frantically toward the house.
“We’ll meet you at the barn,” George called out after Laura.
“This is terrible!” Nancy exclaimed as she and George hurried toward Peter Greenbriar. “We have to find Morning Glory, and find him fast.”
“This has nothing to do with me,” the groom said, before Nancy could say anything. He turned toward the barn. “Follow me,” he added.
Nancy and George followed him inside to Morning Glory’s empty stall. “See?” Greenbriar said, waving a hand at a piece of paper tacked onto the door of the stall.
“What’s that?” Nancy asked.
“A note from whoever stole Morning Glory,” the groom said.
Nancy bent down to get a closer look. Pasted onto a white sheet of paper were letters cut out from a magazine: “Disband the Mill River Hunt, or you’ll never see Morning Glory again.”
“This is terrible!” George gasped.
Just then Mrs. Passano rushed into the barn, with Laura close behind her.
“Look at this,” Nancy said grimly, pointing at the note. She felt sorry for Laura and her mother as they read the threatening message. First the poisoning, then the hunt sabotage, now this—how painful all this must be for them!
“Who would do this?” Laura cried.
“I can’t believe someone would take Morning Glory hostage, just to force the hunt to meet their demands,” Mrs. Passano said angrily.
“Well,” Nancy said, “one thing’s clear. Now we know that the problems at Sky Meadow Farm and the problems at the Mill River Hunt are related.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Passano said, “but who would want the hunt to disband?”
“Mark Plonsky!” Laura exclaimed. “It must be him. Who else would care?”
“I don’t think we can automatically blame the animal activists,” Nancy said, though the same thought had crossed her mind. “They certainly have reasons for wanting the hunt to break up. But we have no solid proof. I think we need to investigate all possible leads before pointing a finger at them.”
“What leads?” Laura said dejectedly. “There are none.”
