The Mystery of Misty Canyon Read online

  Nancy and George met Nathaniel Baines as he was driving out of Calloway Ranch and they were driving in. He didn’t even wave as he passed. His eyes were glued to the road ahead, and his expression was dark.

  “I wonder what happened?” George asked.

  “I guess we’ll have to wait to find out.” Nancy parked the pickup just as the dinner bell rang loudly.

  “That’s my cue,” George said. “I’m starved!”

  “Me too!”

  Together they walked toward the main house, but as they climbed the steps, Bess burst through the screen door. Her face was white, and she swallowed hard.

  “Thank goodness you’re back,” Bess cried. “It—it’s Renegade! Something terrible has happened!”

  12

  Bullwhip

  “Renegade?” Nancy asked. “Where is he?”

  “Tammy found a note slipped under the kitchen door, and it’s just awful!” Bess said, biting her lower lip.

  “Where is she?”

  “Up in her room.”

  Nancy didn’t waste any time. Rushing past Bess, Nancy dashed into the house, bounded up the stairs two at a time, and tore into Tammy’s room. George and Bess followed. They found Tammy sitting on the windowsill, staring across the fields. Her shoulders were slumped, and she held a piece of white paper in her hands.

  Tammy glanced at the three friends, her eyes meeting Nancy’s. “You were right,” she said as Nancy crossed the room to her. “Someone has stolen Renegade!” Angrily, she crumpled the note in her fist. “Who would do this to me?”

  “I have a few ideas about that,” Nancy said.

  Tammy handed the wadded piece of paper to her, and Nancy skimmed the short typewritten message: “T.C.—If you enter the Independence Day Rodeo, Renegade dies! I’ve already stolen your horse and set off the fireworks in your car. I mean business!”

  Nancy made a quick decision. “Tammy, tell me all you know about Mike Mathews.”

  Tammy’s green eyes widened. “Mike isn’t involved in this.”

  “You don’t know that,” Nancy said. “Whoever stole Renegade had to be someone who knows this ranch inside and out, and someone who has access to your car.”

  “That could be lots of people.”

  “Can lots of people handle live rattlesnakes and know something about fireworks? That snake was a desert sidewinder, not a timber rattler. It was taken from the Circle B. Nathaniel Baines thinks Mike stole the snake out of revenge.”

  Tammy clenched her teeth. “Nathaniel was just here demanding payment for his snake! When Hank found out the rattler was from the Circle B, he really told Nathaniel off! Hank’s never much liked Nathaniel,” she said more calmly. “He seems to think that the Circle B is responsible for things going bad around here.”

  “And you don’t?” Nancy prodded.

  “We’ve just had a string of bad luck ever since Renegade threw Dad.”

  Nancy wondered. She read the threatening letter again. “Did all your bad luck start when you hired Mike Mathews?”

  “Oh, no. Mike’s been great!”

  “He does have a criminal past,” Bess reminded Tammy. “He stole from guests at the Circle B.”

  “But I can’t believe he would hurt Renegade.” Tammy squared her shoulders defensively. “He’s been a big help around this place, and he’s trying to change.”

  “He did say some pretty nasty things about that horse,” George pointed out.

  “That’s because he blames Renegade for Dad’s death, even though it’s not true. He and Hank both think that the fall Dad took while trying to ride Renegade robbed Dad of his will to live.” Tammy stood and took the note from Nancy’s outstretched hand. “Even though he’s not crazy about Renegade, Mike really does love animals. Especially horses. You know, I’d almost believe that he would booby-trap the car before hurting any of the livestock.” Frowning, she studied the short message. “Why would Mike want to hurt me?”

  “Maybe he doesn’t,” Nancy suggested. “Maybe he just wants to help Stella. That reference about the rodeo must be because of Stella. If you don’t enter, she has a much better shot at winning the bareback competition.”

  Tammy shook her head. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Just don’t withdraw from the rodeo in Boise. At least not yet,” Nancy suggested. “Now, tell me. Do you have any typewriters on the ranch?”

  “Just one, in the den. But this note wasn’t written on it. The letters are different.”

  “I think you’d better show this note to Deputy McMillan,” Nancy suggested. “Maybe then he’ll take Renegade’s disappearance more seriously.”

  The dinner bell rang again. “Come on,” George urged. “I’m starved!”

  “I’m not hungry,” Tammy said. “I’ll be down in a little while. Please tell Peggy not to worry.”

  “That’s like telling a rooster not to crow,” George whispered to Nancy once they were in the corridor. “That woman is a born worrier.”

  “Wait until she hears about her nephew,” Bess added. “It’ll break her heart. She got Mike this job, you know.”

  “It’s a mess any way you look at it,” Nancy admitted. She hurried to her room to comb her hair. She couldn’t dislodge the feeling that she’d overlooked something. Tonight, after dinner, she’d go over every clue and see what she could come up with. If she found nothing to change her mind, she’d have to confront Mike Mathews with the truth.

  • • •

  After dinner, everyone seemed content and settled, but Nancy was restless. She stared through the windows to the steep hills surrounding Misty Canyon. Somewhere—and Mike Mathews probably knew just where—Renegade was hidden.

  Maybe there was a clue in the bunkhouse or something she had overlooked in the tack room. This was her opportunity to find out. After whispering her plans to George, she slipped upstairs, tucked her hair into a Stetson, and grabbed her jeans jacket and flashlight. Then, hardly making a sound, she took the back stairs through the kitchen and hurried outside.

  Clouds were gathering in the sky, and a cool wind brushed her cheeks as she walked briskly along a path leading to the bunkhouse. She knocked on the bunkhouse door. No one answered.

  Holding her breath, she pushed the door open.

  The bunkhouse had one large sleeping room, a bathroom, and several lockers. She swept the beam of her flashlight over the names on the lockers and located a banged-up door with Mike Mathews’s name taped above the lock. Nancy tried the handle. Creaking loudly, the door swung open.

  As quickly as possible, Nancy searched through Mike’s things. She found nothing except the belt with the silver buckle that was just like the one she’d seen before she was knocked out. Although she glanced through a small pile of papers at the bottom of the locker and even checked inside his boots, she found nothing to link him to Renegade’s disappearance.

  After closing the locker, Nancy quietly stole out of the bunkhouse. She glanced at the main house and around the yard. No one seemed to have missed her. Through the windows, she could see the guests still gathered in the living room. Deciding it was now or never, she ducked behind a hedge leading to the tack room.

  The windowless tack room smelled of oiled leather. She shone her beam on the hanging gear. Bridles jangled as she inadvertently brushed against the hanging reins, but nothing looked out of place. Nancy searched through Mike’s riding gear and saddle bags but came up empty.

  Frustrated, she glanced at her watch. She’d been gone nearly half an hour. If she didn’t return to the main house soon, someone might come looking for her.

  She opened the medicine cabinet as an afterthought. In the pale beam of her flashlight, she read the label of each tube and bottle, hoping to find something that would explain Twister’s odd behavior. But the ointments and creams didn’t seem out of the ordinary.

  There’s got to be something, she told herself. Reaching around a bottle of peroxide, she found a jar of medication she hadn’t noticed before. She pulled it ou
t and was reading the label when she heard the sound of a boot scrape behind her.

  She nearly dropped the jar as she jammed it into her pocket. She switched off her flashlight. She crouched low against the wall, hoping to hide in the shadows. She hardly dared to breathe. Was the sound inside the tack room? Or in the yard outside?

  With her heart hammering double-time, she turned slowly, looking over her shoulder to see the silhouette of a tall, broad-shouldered man in the doorway. He raised his arm.

  To her horror, Nancy saw a bullwhip in his hand. He moved as if knowing instinctively where she hid. She shrank back. The man flicked his wrist. Like a pistol shot, the whip cracked, sizzling through the air at her face!

  13

  Another Escape

  Nancy jumped aside as the whip sliced only inches from where she’d been. She snapped on her flashlight and shone the beam right into Mike Mathews’s baffled face.

  “Who is it?” he asked, reaching for the switch on the wall and throwing on the lights.

  Nancy shook her hair out of her hat.

  “Nancy?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “What’re you doing snooping around here?”

  “Trying to prove that Twister hasn’t gone bad.”

  He frowned. “Oh, that again. Sometimes I forget you’re such a great detective.”

  Nancy ignored the insult. “And what are you doing with that?” She pointed at the whip.

  Some of his anger melted. “I guess I owe you an apology. I thought you were the thief who took the Masons’ things. I saw someone sneak in here, and I thought I’d give him a scare. I didn’t realize it was you. Sorry.” He shrugged. “But if I’d wanted to hit you, I could have.” To prove his point, he snapped off the lights for a minute, raised the whip, and flicked his wrist. The whip cracked again, and this time the tip hit the medicine cabinet door, and it swung shut.

  Mike turned on the lights and crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but you really shouldn’t be here. All these crazy notions you’ve got about the horses don’t hold any water, you know.”

  “No?” Nancy asked, walking closer and holding his gaze. “Then how do you explain Renegade’s disappearance?”

  “He took off. Period.”

  “You had nothing to do with it?”

  Mike’s expression hardened. “So you still don’t believe me.” He snorted in frustration. “You think this jailbird had something to do with the horses acting strangely and escaping. Well, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Believe it or not, I work here just like anyone else. Why would I want to steal Renegade or drug Twister?”

  “To spoil Tammy’s chances in the rodeo.”

  “To what?” He grinned crookedly, and Nancy had the distinct impression that he was laughing at her. “I don’t follow you. I want Tammy to win.” He started for the door.

  Nancy took a gamble and asked, “Even if it means Stella will lose?”

  Mike whirled. His eyes glinted like steel, and his fist coiled tightly over the handle of his whip. “You actually think I would sabotage Tammy’s chances of winning?”

  “Wouldn’t you? For Stella?”

  “Look, I’ve made more than my share of mistakes in the past. But I’m not about to make any more. Sure, I care for Stella, but she’s got to make it on her own—stand up against the competition.” He jerked a thumb at his chest. “I’m a rodeo rider myself, and I believe that if you’re the best, you have to prove it. Stella has to face Tammy, to prove herself.”

  “Is that how Stella feels?”

  He glanced away. “I can’t speak for her.”

  Nancy crossed the room and stood in the doorway. “How important is the Independence Day Rodeo to Stella?”

  He swallowed. “Very.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “It is. Tammy received a death threat against Renegade unless she drops out of the rodeo.”

  Mike answered quickly, too quickly. “Maybe it was from that jerk that’s giving her a rough time at the bank. What’s his name—Majors? He and Vern Landon are both hounding her.”

  Nancy shook her head. “They couldn’t have put a snake in my sleeping bag. I doubt if either man knows how to handle rattlers, and they weren’t anywhere near the campfire. I checked. Also, they didn’t have time to put the fireworks under the car.”

  “But Stella couldn’t have—” His shoulders slumped. “You think I did that? That I would try to kill you?”

  “Or Tammy,” Nancy said.

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Just tell me why this rodeo is so important to Stella Baines,” Nancy demanded.

  Mike’s nostrils flared. “So she can get out from under her dad’s thumb, all right? So she can win and get a huge commercial endorsement, maybe even get a part in a movie. This rodeo is worth big bucks! Is that so hard to understand?”

  Nancy thought about the close relationship she had with her own father. “Maybe Stella should talk things out with her dad.”

  “Believe me, it’s beyond that point,” Mike insisted. “Old man Baines wants to control her and manage her career, even tell her who she can and can’t see.”

  “Including you?”

  “Especially me.”

  Nancy pushed. “I bet she would do anything to get away from him.”

  “Not anything, Nancy. Stella wouldn’t do anything so crazy and dangerous as the stunts that have been happening around here. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask her yourself. I left her not ten minutes ago.”

  Nancy was surprised and worried. Any time Stella was on the Calloway Ranch, there was bound to be trouble. “Where?”

  “By the lake,” he replied hotly. “Stella has to sneak over here to see me because her dad disapproves.” As if realizing he’d said too much, he pushed past her and strode angrily across the yard, his boots crunching on the wet gravel.

  Nancy shut off the light, then noticed the dark clouds filling the sky. She turned the collar of her jacket against the first cool breath of wind and dashed across the yard to the lake. She searched the dock area but couldn’t find any trace of Stella.

  Unnerved, Nancy hurried up the back stairs of the main house. She found Tammy in her room, sitting back against the pillows on her bed.

  Nancy dug in her pocket and extracted the small bottle of medicine. It was half full. “What’s this?” she asked. “Could it have been used on Twister?”

  Tammy read the label and shook her head. “If it was, he’d fall asleep. This is a depressant, Nancy. We use it rarely. Once in a while, a horse is injured and goes into a frenzy. We give this to calm it down.”

  Nancy sighed in frustration as Bess walked into the room. “I wondered where you were, Nancy. George and I were beginning to get worried.” She polished a bright red apple against her checked blouse, then took a bite.

  Nancy watched her friend, then smiled, her blue eyes dancing. “That’s it!” she cried as the puzzle began to unravel in her mind. “Bess, you’re a genius!”

  “I am?” Bess was baffled.

  “The apple! That’s how the drug was given to Renegade! I saw a half-eaten apple in his stall the night he disappeared, but the next time I looked the apple was gone!”

  “Hey, whoa! Slow down,” Bess insisted as George joined the group in Tammy’s room. “I thought you thought that Twister had been drugged! Renegade’s disappeared, remember?”

  Excited, Nancy exclaimed, “But I was wrong. The horses were switched! Renegade didn’t escape that night. It was Twister. Someone deliberately let him out—or rode him. That’s why I thought I saw a rider on his back. No one can ride Renegade, but Twister’s known for his sweet disposition. I think Renegade’s been drugged with this depressant!” She held up the jar.

  Tammy’s eyes widened. “That would mean that I was really riding Renegade the day I was thrown!”

  “Yes! And it would explain why Twister has supposedly gone bad!” George added.

  Nancy nodded
. “I think Stella Baines deliberately switched the horses to keep you out of the Independence Day Rodeo.”

  “Stella?” Tammy gasped. “I can’t believe it.”

  “She has motive and opportunity. I saw her with Mike on the night of the campout. She must have brought the rattlesnake and put it in my bag. And she was here the day the Masons’ things were stolen.”

  “And she was at the barbecue,” Bess said.

  “She was here earlier today to meet Mike. Maybe she slipped the note about Renegade under the kitchen door!” George said.

  “But she wouldn’t set off an explosion,” Tammy protested.

  Nancy was convinced. “Either she did or Mike helped her.”

  “So you still suspect him,” Tammy said.

  “He claims he’s innocent. But I’m not sure he can be trusted.”

  “Hey, wait a minute!” George cut in. “There’s one major hole in your theory, Nancy. If Twister and Renegade were really switched, why didn’t we notice the difference? Isn’t Twister supposed to have some sort of white mark on his leg?”

  “Simple,” Nancy replied, grinning. “Peroxide. Stella drugged Renegade, then bleached the hairs on his fetlock in the crescent pattern. That’s why some of the straw in Renegade’s stall was whiter than the rest. The peroxide had spilled.”

  “So Stella or Mike switched halters, then put Renegade in Twister’s stall,” George said, following Nancy’s train of thought.

  “And that’s why Twister was acting up! Twister was really Renegade!” Nancy pointed out, unraveling the mystery for everyone in the room.

  Tammy pushed her pen and papers aside. “Well, let’s see if you’re right. I should be able to tell if the white mark on Twister’s leg is real or not.”

  “And then we’ll talk with Stella,” Nancy said. “My guess is that she’s still here somewhere.” Nancy didn’t add that she’d already checked the dock. She was uneasy about Stella being on the ranch, but she didn’t want to upset Tammy any more than necessary.