But Peter Greenbriar, she realized, was the likeliest suspect. He knew Lancelot needed a strong bit.
Then Laura said, “That was the bridle Alexa borrowed. She borrowed it because she wanted to try a curb bit on a horse she’s training, and she didn’t have one in her stable. But I’m positive the curb was on it when it was returned. I would’ve noticed otherwise.”
Alexa? Nancy thought. She might well want to scare the girls off the case.
As Laura spoke, Nancy gazed down the path at George bending over Lancelot’s neck, chatting with Mark Plonsky. George seemed to be getting along pretty well with the guy, Nancy observed. She hoped George could get some information from him.
Before long, a tiny stone mill house came into view, and Nancy heard the sound of rushing water nearby. On the far side of the house, a dirt road led to a narrow wooden bridge. The road then snaked through the woodlands beyond. A river gushed underneath the bridge and eventually disappeared under a canopy of trees.
“Is this his house?” Nancy asked Laura.
Laura nodded. “There are several of these cute old houses scattered along the Mill River,” she told Nancy. “The mill workers used to live in them two hundred years ago. The old mill is just a half mile upriver. It’s not used anymore, but the waterfall next to it still turns its wheel.”
After dismounting, the three girls took off their horses’ bridles and put on halters they’d brought with them in Laura’s backpack. After snapping lead ropes on the halters, they tied their horses to the fence surrounding the house, then followed Mark Plonsky inside. He led them to a sitting area by a fireplace. The sunlight filtering through the leaves outside made lively patterns on the braided rug.
Above the fireplace mantel were hand-painted placards reading Let the Fox Live and Stop the Senseless Slaughter, with pictures of happy fox faces painted in each corner. Nancy wondered if Mark had painted them himself.
After he brought in mugs of tea, Nancy told George about the swapped bit, glancing at him to see how he reacted to the news. He said nothing as he sank down on a corner of the sofa.
“I tried to reach you on the phone yesterday, Mark,” Laura said. “I wanted to tell you that Morning Glory, my hunter, is missing.”
“I overheard the news yesterday at the grocery store,” Mark said matter-of-factly. “I’m sorry. I haven’t seen him, though. Obviously, I would have called you if I had.”
“Has your group made any headway with the board of the Mill River Hunt?” Nancy asked him.
“What do you mean?” he asked sharply, staring at Nancy in a challenging way.
“Are you persuading them to switch to a drag hunt?” Nancy replied, staring directly into his steel gray eyes, determined not to look away first.
“We would be making headway, except that we’re being blamed for the sabotage at the cub hunt two days ago,” Mark said coolly. “The board won’t talk to me. I just hope the culprit is caught soon. Maybe the board will listen to me when they realize I’m not a saboteur.”
“That’s funny,” Nancy countered. “I heard that you were the inflexible one—you went out and interfered with the hounds before you’d ever discussed the issue with the board.” Nancy continued to look at him, her gaze unflinching.
Mark Plonsky raised his eyebrows. “How flattering,” he said sarcastically. “I seem to be the subject of everyone’s gossip around here.” He put his mug down on a side table. Then he stood up abruptly. “Well, it’s true I didn’t discuss my plans with the board beforehand. First I wanted to show the hunt that I meant business—and I succeeded.”
“But have you won your real goal—to get Mill River to stop hunting foxes?” Nancy pointed out. “Or have you just made the riders more stubborn? And maybe even turned people against you who might agree with you?”
Leaning on the mantel, Mark sighed. “I have to admit my approach may have been too strong,” he said. “But in any case, I’m willing to talk now.”
“The board would talk to you if you could prove you’re not trying to sabotage them,” Laura told him.
“I had nothing to do with the barbed wire or the stuffed fox!” Mark declared. “I’ve told you that already.”
“Calm down, Mark,” George said gently.
Taking a deep breath, he sat down next to George on the sofa. “I’m planning to come to the Hunt Ball tonight, as a show of goodwill,” he announced. “A guy I work with had an extra invitation—his wife can’t go. I’m hoping the social setting will make the hunt diehards loosen up and be more willing to listen to me.”
“I hope it works, for everyone’s sake,” George said. “But now, why don’t you take us on that tour of your house you promised me?”
“By all means,” Mark said politely. “Right this way.”
As he led the girls on a quick tour of his cottage, Nancy lagged behind, scouting around for clues in the neat, spare rooms. She found nothing, not even any evidence of Mark’s theatrical career. Nancy felt baffled. Of course, she reminded herself, there was nothing to prove he didn’t take Morning Glory or sabotage the hunt, either.
After the tour, they all walked outside. Once on their horses, the girls said goodbye to Mark Plonsky. “I hope to see you at the ball tonight, George,” Nancy heard him say in a low voice.
“You will,” George murmured, smiling.
Nancy felt uneasy. Was Mark deliberately trying to charm George? If so, why? She had to admit that this visit had showed her another side of the guy. But she still wasn’t sure she trusted him.
“Do you by any chance know the Shaws?” Nancy asked Mark, remembering the dark-haired man at their house yesterday.
“I know who they are,” he replied offhandedly. “Cameron Shaw’s widow and daughter. I’m sure his death has been sad for them. I don’t know them well, though. Why?”
“I think I left something at their house yesterday,” Nancy said. “I wondered if you knew the way there cross-country. I’d like to ride over now to get it.”
Mark looked shrewdly at Nancy. “Laura knows the way. Ask her,” he said. Waving goodbye, he turned around and went inside his house.
Nancy wondered if Mark suspected that her question had been a setup. Or was he trying to cover up the fact that he’d been lurking around there the day before?
Back at Sky Meadow Farm, the girls unsaddled the horses, rubbed them down, and then trooped down to the kitchen for a quick lunch. As Mrs. Passano sliced some tomatoes for sandwiches, she told them that she had called Officer McDonnell to check in with him about Morning Glory.
“He’s not being very aggressive,” she complained. “I had to ask to speak to his boss. The problem is that their office is understaffed, and they don’t have many leads to go on.”
“But they should be out looking for leads!” Laura said indignantly. “Anyone can see that Morning Glory was stolen. They should be checking roads and tollbooths. Morning Glory could be in another state by now.”
“But, Laura, don’t forget the note,” Nancy reminded her. “It said he was stolen to force the Mill River Hunt to disband. I’ll bet this is a local job, done by someone who bears a grudge toward the hunt—or toward your family. I just know Morning Glory is somewhere nearby—and I just know we’ll find him soon.”
• • •
