Chapter

  One

  WHAT A PERFECT DAY!” Bess Marvin exclaimed, pulling off her baseball cap and smiling at her friend Nancy Drew. “I love feeling the wind in my hair.”

  “Even if all that gorgeous hair gets messed up?” Nancy teased.

  “Joke all you want, Nan, but I know you’re glad I talked you into renting this convertible,” Bess said.

  Nancy was really enjoying the drive up the winding mountain road, and she had to admit a convertible made it even more exciting. As the car reached the summit, Nancy stopped so they could look down into the valley. The morning sun was glistening on the dewy grass and red barns poked up here and there.

  “This view should be on a postcard,” Bess said as she snapped a picture with her camera.

  Nancy smiled. “Dad was right. This is the perfect place for a vacation.” She grinned mischievously. “Not much chance of anything mysterious happening around all those cows,” she added, pointing.

  Bess laughed. “You never know what we might find at the music festival—other than cute musicians, I mean.”

  Nancy Drew’s father, lawyer Carson Drew, had suggested that Nancy spend a couple of weeks in late July with an old friend of his, Mrs. Myrna Wheeler. She lived in the small town of Westbridge, known for the Muscatonic Summer Music Festival.

  Nancy had jumped at the chance to visit the beautiful town, nestled in the heart of the Berkshire Mountains, in western Massachusetts. She and Bess had flown to Boston on Thursday, the afternoon before, rented a car, then drove two hours to Westbridge. They spent the evening with Mrs. Wheeler.

  She filled them in on the outdoor symphony concert schedule at the festival and the world-famous piano competition that was taking place that week. Three finalists had been selected, Mrs. Wheeler explained. Their final performances were scheduled for Monday. Until then Nancy and Bess decided to explore the surrounding towns, attend one outdoor concert, and relax.

  “I’m just sorry George can’t see this,” Bess said, pointing to a sparkling stream bordered by gold and purple wildflowers that they passed beside the road.

  “I hope that course she signed up for is fun,” Nancy said. George Fayne, Bess’s cousin and Nancy’s close friend, had decided to spend the summer studying stage management at the local theater in their hometown, River Heights.

  The steep mountain road finally leveled off when they reached the valley floor.

  “Well, where to?” Nancy asked.

  Bess opened the glove compartment and took out a map.

  “We have the whole morning and part of the afternoon to explore before the concert later,” Nancy went on.

  “Slow down!” Bess shouted. “I just saw a sign for horses and riding trails.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Nancy said. She turned at the next intersection and headed back toward the sign Bess had seen. As they pulled up to a tall wooden gate, Bess read, “ ‘Chapin’s Horse Farm. Training and Boarding. Forest trails. Inquire within,’ I think we’d be able to ride here, don’t you?” Bess’s blue eyes sparkled.

  “Let’s give it a try,” Nancy said. She pulled the car into the driveway and headed for the barn.

  Nancy chose a black gelding named Allegro for herself and a gentle gray mare named Andante for Bess. As the groom saddled them up and helped them mount the horses, Bess giggled nervously.

  “I hope I can do this,” she said. The groom led them out of the paddock and pointed out one of the farm’s many trails. He explained that it circled around the nearby woods and pastures and led back to the stables.

  Nancy smiled and stroked her horse’s neck. “Don’t worry, Bess. Your horse looks nice and gentle. Anyway, her name is a good sign.”

  “Why? What does it mean?” Bess asked, tightening her grip on the reins.

  “Andante means ‘slow’ in Italian. It’s also used as a music term. I learned it in music appreciation,” Nancy said. “I guess everyone around here is affected by the music festival in one way or another.”

  “So what does allegro mean?” Bess asked, following Nancy as they started along the trail.

  “It means ‘fast’!” Nancy laughed as Allegro trotted ahead, eager to canter down the trail. Nancy reined him in and waited for Bess to catch up. With her shoulder-length reddish blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and slender build, Nancy and her horse could have posed in an ad for Massachusetts tourism.

  Keeping their horses to a walk, the girls rode along the forest trail, ducking to avoid occasional branches. Sunlight streamed down through the gaps in the dense pine forest, and the smell of warm pine needles on the forest floor was inviting. Soon Bess began to relax and enjoy the ride.

  As they rounded a curve in the path, they spotted two horses ahead of them.

  The trail widened as they caught up to the horses, and there was enough room to stop and chat. One of the riders was a very handsome guy, Nancy noticed. She figured he was around twenty. He had blond hair, sparkling green eyes, and an athletic build, and seemed very comfortable on horseback. He was wearing cutoffs and a dark green T-shirt. The other rider was a girl who Nancy thought looked about seventeen or eighteen, with waist-length glossy black hair. She was wearing jeans and a white, long-sleeved blouse. She seemed less at ease.

  “Hi, I’m Nancy Drew, and this is Bess Marvin,” Nancy said, smiling warmly.

  Bess’s smile was less confident. She seemed flustered as her horse danced nervously around the other horses.

  The young man reached over and calmed Bess’s horse by speaking quietly to it and stroking its neck. “Don’t worry,” he said to Bess. “She just doesn’t like to feel crowded. I rode her yesterday. She’s fine.” He smiled at Bess and Nancy and said, “I’m Ted Martinelli. This is Keiko Yamamoto.”

  The girl smiled shyly at them. Nancy smiled in return, then spoke to Ted. “I’m impressed with the way you calmed Andante. You have a real feel for horses. Do you work with them?”

  Ted laughed. “Not exactly,” he said. “I’m a musician.”

  “Oh, are you here for the festival?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes,” Ted answered. “Keiko and I are both in the piano competition.”

  “Oh!” Bess responded, her eyes lighting up. “How exciting!”

  Ted smiled. “Yes, what you have here are two-thirds of the Muscatonic Piano Competition finalists.”

  Keiko added, “The third finalist doesn’t ride, or he would have come with us. This is our morning to relax.”

  “Don’t you have to practice for several hours every day?” Nancy asked.

  Keiko and Ted both nodded. “Our practice schedule at the festival has been ferocious—we’ve had to get up very early in order to fit in the required hours,” said Keiko. She grinned and glanced at Ted. “Ted doesn’t mind so much,” she continued, “because he’s a morning person. But I’m a night owl, and I have trouble getting up.”

  “How long do you practice every day? Do you enter other contests? Do you get to travel a lot?” Bess’s questions came out in a rush. She was clearly fascinated with the idea that these two could be world-famous pianists.

  Ted laughed. “Whoa, one question at a time!” Turning to Keiko, he said, “Why don’t you tell them about the contest circuit, and then I’ll tackle the question about our practice routine.”

  His horse, a black-and-white Appaloosa, whinnied, impatient to be on the move again. Ted tightened his hold on the reins. “Why don’t we keep riding as we talk?” he suggested. “My horse is starting to get restless.”

  As the trail curved and narrowed, Nancy and Ted took the lead and Bess and Keiko followed. Riding, Keiko described the routine followed by most concert pianists their age. They entered all the major world-class competitions and competed against one another month after month, sometimes year after year. This routine ended when a pianist finally won a major prize or gave up the dream of pursuing a solo career.

  “Is it important to win a major contest? Can you have a career without a first prize?” Nancy asked.

  “Sometimes it happens, if you’re very lucky, but usually you cannot make it without winning at least one contest,” Keiko said.

  “There are so many good pianists these days,” Ted explained, “that if you don’t have something that makes you stand out, it’s hard to get concert bookings or a record contract.”

  “Isn’t it scary, playing in front of judges all the time?” Bess asked.

  “No, you get used to it,” Ted said. “Musicians who can’t handle stress don’t get very far.”

  Nancy nodded sympathetically. “It’s sort of like being an actor, isn’t it?” she asked. “You may get stage fright just before you go on, but it disappears the minute you say your first line—or play the first note, in your case.”

  “That’s it exactly,” Ted said, grinning at Nancy. She noticed that his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

  “How old were you when you started playing?” Bess asked Keiko.

  “I was three,” Keiko replied. She smiled at Bess’s surprised expression. “They start us early in Japan.”

  “I, on the other hand, didn’t start until the ripe old age of seven,” Ted said, laughing. “Keiko was already playing on TV shows when she was that age—she was a real child prodigy,” he explained. “When I was little I did practice several hours a day because I loved it so much. But I’m not so disciplined now,” he added, grinning. “A couple of years ago I discovered windsurfing. Growing up in California, it’s amazing that it took me so long!”

  “And somewhere along the way, you also learne d to ride pretty well,” Nancy said with a smile.

  “Yeah, well, I guess you could say I’m a frustrated athlete.” Ted smiled self-consciously and patted his horse’s sleek neck.

  This guy is multitalented, Nancy thought. And he seems so modest. She wondered if there was anything he couldn’t do. She watched him guide his horse easily along the forest trail as it started down a hill and narrowed.

  “Who is the third finalist?” Bess asked.

  “His name is Alexander Poliakin. He’s from Russia,” Keiko said. Just then the path narrowed even more and the horses jostled to accommodate one another. Ted took the lead, followed by Bess and then Nancy, with Keiko bringing up the rear.

  Two minutes later a scream shattered the peace of the forest. Nancy was shocked as Keiko’s horse galloped past her down the hill, the empty saddle askew. Nancy quickly turned and saw Keiko lying motionless on the ground!

  Chapter

  Two

  NANCY SHOUTED TO ALERT the others, then jumped off her horse and ran to help Keiko. After checking the girl’s pulse, Nancy gently chafed her wrists, hoping to wake her. After a few moments Keiko’s lids fluttered and she moaned.

  “Easy, Keiko, you’ve had a bad fall,” Nancy said gently. Ted and Bess had dismounted and were looking on with concern.

  “What—I mean, how did I . . .” Keiko seemed disoriented, and Nancy quickly tried to reassure her.

  “Your horse bolted for some reason, and your saddle became loose. It’s probably a good thing that you fell free of the horse. Are you hurt anywhere? Can you move your legs and arms?”

  Gingerly, Keiko moved each leg and lifted her arms. When she tried to rotate her right wrist, she winced with pain.

  “Oh, no!” Ted exclaimed softly. He bent down and very gently took Keiko’s right hand in his own. Turning to Nancy, he said urgently, “We must get her to a doctor immediately. This could be a serious injury.”

  He stood up and remounted his horse. “I’ll ride back to the stables and try to get hold of the festival doctor,” he said. “I’m sure he’ll come out here if I tell him what happened.”

  Nancy nodded. “Good idea,” she said.

  Bess knelt beside Nancy and smiled sympathetically at Keiko. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll bet it’s nothing very serious. I once sprained my wrist in a skiing accident, and it was back to normal within a few days.”

  “A few days?” Keiko said with a groan. She looked at her bruised wrist fearfully. “The final performance is on Monday, and I’ve got to practice. I don’t believe this is happening,” she said.

  “Do you think you can get up?” Nancy asked gently. “You’d probably be more comfortable back at the stables.”

  Keiko nodded, then got to her feet shakily, leaning on Bess and Nancy for support. Suddenly she said, “There was something wrong with that saddle. It didn’t just come loose when I fell. I could feel it loosen as I rode.”

  Nancy and Bess made eye contact above Keiko’s head, and Nancy came to a quick decision. “Keiko, I’m going to find your horse and bring him back. Bess, will you help Keiko back to the stables? You can ride double on Andante.”

  Bess nodded. “Of course, Nan.” She put her arm reassuringly around Keiko’s shoulder.

  “I think we should try to find out what caused the horse to bolt like that,” Nancy said as she helped Keiko into the saddle and gave Bess a boost so she could sit behind the pianist. She paused, smiling at the distraught Keiko. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Ted will get the doctor.”

  Keiko nodded distractedly, and Nancy watched as she and Bess started back up the trail to the stables. Bess took off her blue cardigan and wrapped it loosely around Keiko’s shoulders. Nancy could hear her talking soothingly to Keiko as they moved away.

  Quickly Nancy remounted her horse and rode off down the path in the opposite direction. She held Allegro to a walk, although the horse strained against the reins, sensing that something was wrong.

  As she rode, Nancy peered carefully through the dense foliage on either side of the trail, trying to spot the runaway horse. What could have spooked the gentle gelding like that? Nancy wondered. They had been riding along peacefully. There had been no sudden movement that Nancy could remember, and no loud noise.

  Since Keiko had been the last in line, something could have happened behind her that the rest of the group was unaware of. Nancy searched her memory, playing the scene over again in her head.

  Suddenly she saw someone approaching on horseback. As the horse drew nearer, Nancy could see that it was a mare with a white star on its forehead.

  The rider was a middle-aged man. He sat very tall in the saddle. As he approached, he raised his hand in greeting.

  “Hi!” he said in a friendly tone.

  “Hello,” Nancy replied. The man’s face was very familiar, and for a moment Nancy found herself staring at him, trying to remember where she had seen him before.

  Suddenly it came to her: the cleft chin, the sharply chiseled features, the thick shock of silver hair—this man had to be Curt Lucas, the award-winning Broadway composer.

  Nancy had seen him many times on television, receiving awards or being interviewed about his musicals. And earlier that morning she had seen his picture in the brochure for the music festival. He was one of the judges of the piano competition.

  Curt Lucas smiled at Nancy. She blushed, realizing that her thought process must have been pretty clear to him. Oh well, he must be used to it, Nancy thought. Although his face wasn’t as famous as that of a rock star or a movie star, it was still a well-known face.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” Nancy said. “It’s just that—of course—I recognized you.”

  “That’s all right, think nothing of it,” Lucas said graciously. “But now you have the better of me—you obviously know who I am, but I don’t know who you are.”

  “I’m Nancy Drew.” Nancy smiled as the composer maneuvered his horse close enough to reach over and shake her hand. Nancy noticed that the horse Lucas was riding was a beautiful animal, with a dark shiny coat and large liquid eyes.

  “I don’t suppose you’re looking for a runaway horse,” Lucas said.

  “Yes!” Nancy replied excitedly. “Have you seen him—a large chestnut gelding?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I have. I passed him grazing peacefully in the field just over that hill.” He chuckled. “But he couldn’t fool me. I knew he was a runaway—the saddle was still attached.” He added, “I hope the rider’s okay.”

  “I’m not sure,” Nancy said. “As a matter of fact, you must know her—the pianist Keiko Yamamoto—and I think her right hand has been injured.”

  “What?” Lucas shouted. “Where is she now?”

  “She’s heading back to the stables. She was riding with Ted Martinelli. He rode ahead to call the festival doctor.”

  “I’d better go see her. Maybe there’s something I can do.” The composer started to ride off. “I hope this doesn’t mean she can’t play,” he said. “What a thing to happen!”

  Nancy rode toward the meadow Lucas had mentioned. As she came over the rise, she could see Keiko’s horse, just as Lucas had described him, grazing peacefully. She rode slowly up to the gelding, anxious not to spook him again, but he barely seemed interested in her approach. He just flared his nostrils and whinnied softly.

  Slowly Nancy dismounted and moved closer to the great horse. She patted his neck and talked gently to him.

  “Hello, boy. Are you feeling calmer now?” she asked. As she straightened the loose saddle and started to tighten the leather girth, she noticed that the strap seemed to be broken. She looked at it closely, then drew her breath in sharply. It had been cut almost completely through on the underside. The cut didn’t show on the top of the strap, so anyone adjusting it wouldn’t notice. The strap would pull apart slowly as the ride went on.

  Nancy tightened the saddle as best she could with the broken girth, while the horse whinnied nervously and pawed the ground. Nancy stroked him gently. “Don’t worry, boy, I’m not going to hurt you,” she began, but as the horse continued to whinny, it occurred to her that perhaps the saddle was irritating him.

  Nancy lifted the saddle up a few inches and took a closer look at the horse’s side. On his flank, just at the point where a rider puts pressure with the knees, Nancy found a large burr digging into the tender skin. There was no doubt about it: someone had deliberately sabotaged Keiko’s horse!

 

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