The Mystery of Misty Canyon

by Carolyn Keene

  “Mike only saw him before he galloped out of the barn. When I was chasing Renegade, I thought I saw someone on his back.”

  “But it was dark.”

  “That’s why I wasn’t sure,” Nancy said.

  Tammy shook her head, and her red hair glinted in the morning sun. “I can’t believe that one, Nancy. No one can ride Renegade. Come on, let’s have breakfast. Then we can ride out to the ridge. I want to see where Renegade disappeared.”

  • • •

  The creek cut a silvery swath beneath the ridge. Nancy, Tammy, George, and Bess stared down at the rushing water from the edge of the cliff.

  “You mean he actually leapt over this and into the water?” Bess asked, her eyes rounding. “Wouldn’t he have been hurt?”

  “He could have been,” Tammy said, her brows drawing together under the brim of her Stetson. “But Renegade’s pretty surefooted.” She slid from the saddle of her roan gelding and studied the land. “But where is he? He’s a smart horse. Even if he were spooked or wanted to run away, he’d come back.”

  “Unless he was stolen,” Nancy ventured.

  “Why would anyone steal him?”

  “Didn’t you say he was the most valuable asset of the ranch?” Nancy asked, thinking back to Rob Majors’s remarks about Renegade’s worth.

  Tammy’s eyes narrowed. “That’s impossible,” she decided. “If anyone wanted to steal him, he’d have to be able to handle him, and only a few hands at our ranch can even get near him.” She swung back onto her horse, and the girls returned to the ranch just in time to clean up for lunch.

  After the meal, Nancy decided it was time to visit Nathaniel Baines, in spite of Hank’s objections, and question him about the horse he’d seen on his property. “Anyone want to join me?” she asked, poking her head into Bess and George’s room.

  “Can’t we do it later?” Bess asked as she brushed her hair into a ponytail. “George and I were thinking about walking over to the lake and taking a swim.”

  Nancy had to admit that a cool swim at the lake on the edge of Tammy’s property, near the Circle B, sounded refreshing. But she had work to do. She went downstairs.

  As she headed across the yard, Nancy saw two of the guests marching to the paddock, where Tammy was riding the roan gelding. They were red-faced and waving angrily.

  “I wonder what’s going on?” Nancy murmured to herself. She ran toward the corral to see what was happening.

  Tammy was on one side of the fence, the two furious guests on the other. The man shouted, “I don’t care what you have to do, Miss Calloway, but we’re reporting the theft to the police!”

  “Theft?” Nancy repeated.

  “That’s right!” the woman declared. “Someone stole my purse and my husband’s wallet!”

  “You’re sure?” Tammy asked nervously.

  The woman’s eyes glittered dangerously. “Of course I’m sure! They were both in the bureau drawer until this morning! One of those cowboys must have come in and stolen them!”

  Tammy’s face was ashen. “I can assure you, Mrs. Mason, all of our hands are above suspicion.”

  “Then who took them?” the woman screamed.

  Nancy heard the screen door slam and looked up to find Peggy Holgate running from the kitchen. Her face was drawn into lines of worry. “Are these what you’re looking for?” she asked, holding up a leather wallet and a small clutch purse.

  “Yes!” Mrs. Mason snatched the purse and wallet from Peggy’s outstretched fingers. “Where did you find them?”

  Peggy hesitated. She glanced nervously at Nancy, then to Tammy. “I was just cleaning Nancy’s room,” she said slowly. “Her duffel bag was on the bed, so I moved it, and the wallet and purse fell out.”

  “What?” Nancy gasped.

  “So you’re the culprit!” Mrs. Mason accused, her face flushed in anger as she glared at Nancy. “Well, don’t think you’re getting away with it! I intend to call the police and have you arrested, Nancy Drew!”

  8

  Clue in the Chronicle

  Shocked, Nancy said, “I don’t know how your things got into my room!”

  Bess and George ran up and heard the end of the conversation.

  “Nancy wouldn’t steal anything!” George said indignantly. “It’s obvious she’s been framed! Nancy’s bag has her name on it!”

  Mrs. Mason rummaged in her purse, checking the contents, then relaxed a little. “Everything’s still here, but I won’t forget this,” she said as her husband counted the bills in his wallet.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Tammy promised, but her voice shook a little.

  As the husband and wife walked stiff-backed toward the house, Tammy confided, “Nothing like this has ever happened at the ranch before. I don’t understand it.”

  “I do,” Bess said. “Nancy must be getting too close to the truth about what happened to Renegade!”

  Peggy touched Nancy’s arm. “I didn’t want to point a finger at you,” she said anxiously. “I know you didn’t take anything.”

  Nancy gave the housekeeper a kind smile. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”

  “I hope so,” Tammy whispered.

  Peggy glanced at her watch and gasped, “Look at the time! I’ve got to start getting things ready for the barbecue tonight!”

  “Do you need some help?” Bess offered, glancing at George. “My cousin and I are a fabulous team in the kitchen.”

  George started to protest. “Well, I’m not the greatest—”

  “I could use all the help I can get. And I know all about your skills in the kitchen from your mother,” Peggy said to George.

  “I’ll be right with you,” Nancy promised as George and Bess followed Peggy to the house.

  Tammy said, “I’m sorry about Mrs. Mason.”

  Nancy sighed. “Don’t worry—I’ve been accused of worse. Besides, this just helps to prove my theory. Someone’s trying to stop my investigation—whoever it is must be getting nervous. Do you have any idea who might have helped Renegade escape?”

  “You really don’t think he just took off?”

  “Do you?”

  Tammy shrugged. “I did. But he’s been gone so long without a trace.”

  Nancy’s mind was working quickly. “It seems to me that either Renegade escaped on his own and someone found him and took advantage of the fact that he was missing. Or someone actually let him out.”

  “Someone, meaning Mike Mathews?” Tammy asked, chewing on her lower lip.

  “Maybe. Or someone who doesn’t want you to ride in the Independence Day Rodeo,” Nancy said. “I think that Renegade’s disappearance and Twister’s change in temperament are related.”

  “But how?”

  “I don’t know yet. But without Renegade as a breeding stallion and without Twister to ride in the rodeo, you won’t be able to pay back that loan.”

  “I know.” Tammy sighed.

  Nancy leaned her back against the top rail of the fence. “I heard Vern Landon tell Rob Majors that he’d get this ranch from you one way or another.”

  “You think he’s behind it?”

  Nancy shrugged. “I’d like to find out more about him.”

  Tammy made a face. “The less I know of him, the better. He gives me the creeps.” She shivered. “I would never sell this ranch to him.” She stared at the cloudless sky. “Tonight, at the barbecue, I’m going to make an official announcement that my retirement is over,” she said, her chin thrust forward. “I just wish we could find Renegade.”

  “We will,” Nancy promised. “I plan on riding over to the Circle B and asking Nathaniel Baines about the horse he spotted.”

  “Don’t bother,” Tammy said. “That stallion was just a range horse, not Renegade.”

  “I’d still like to talk to Baines.”

  “You’ll get your chance tonight. I invited him, Stella, and a few other neighbors to the barbecue.” She slapped the top rail of the fence and added, “I’ve got to check on
some of the calves. I’ll see you later.”

  Nancy started for the house. Once she was in the main yard, she changed directions when she saw Mike Mathews walk from the stallion barn. He took a quick look over his shoulder, then climbed into the Calloway Ranch station wagon and drove off. Nancy decided to look around in the stallion barn one more time.

  Inside, the barn was dark, quiet, and musty-smelling. All of the horses were outside.

  Nancy walked straight to Renegade’s stall. Nothing had changed—the white-gold straw was still messed, the manger half full, the water bucket hung on its hook, and the rails of the gate hadn’t been repaired. She started to turn away but felt as if she were missing something. Her gaze swept the stall. Everything was just where it was before—or was it?

  Frowning, she stared at Twister’s stall. It, too, seemed the same, except that the straw had been changed and seemed a darker shade of gold.

  Nancy had a feeling there was a valuable clue in the stallion barn, one she was overlooking. Still lost in thought, Nancy walked back to the main house, where she found Bess and George in the kitchen.

  “Did you bring your camera?” Bess asked, cocking her head in George’s direction.

  George, covered in a long white apron, was attacking onions with a vengeance. “Take that—and that,” she joked as she diced the vegetables with quick strokes.

  Chopped meat was sizzling in a large saucepan. Peggy was busy creating her special homemade chili, while Bess was pouring thick cornbread batter into cake pans.

  “Anything I can do?” Nancy offered.

  “Take over for me,” George grumbled.

  “You can get the corn in the pantry and husk it for me,” Peggy suggested, looking over her shoulder as she stirred tomato sauce and beans into the meat.

  “Okay!” Nancy walked through the kitchen to the pantry just off the back porch. The corn was in one bin, and as Nancy reached for several of the silk-tasseled ears, she knocked over a stack of yellowed newspapers piled high in a corner.

  “Clumsy Nancy,” she murmured to herself. She straightened the scattered papers before gathering the corn.

  Half an hour later, dinner was well under way. Hank West strode into the kitchen. “Tammy around?” he asked, lines of worry grooving his face.

  “I think she’s upstairs,” Peggy replied.

  “Not anymore.” Tammy walked into the kitchen wearing black jeans, a red-and-white-checked shirt, and a scarlet hat.

  “I thought you’d want to know,” Hank said. “We couldn’t find a trace of Renegade. I’m afraid he’s gone for good.”

  Tammy slumped into one of the kitchen chairs. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured.

  “Neither can I,” Hank admitted. “I finally did call the sheriff’s office and every neighbor again, within ten miles. No one’s seen him.”

  “He’s got to be hidden somewhere,” Nancy said.

  “Oh, does he now?” Hank asked, one silvery brow arching suspiciously as he faced Nancy. “Where?”

  “I don’t know,” Nancy answered, “but I think someone’s deliberately hiding him.”

  “That’s the craziest notion you’ve come up with yet,” Hank said, his temper exploding. “I don’t know how you solve crimes in the city, Nancy Drew, but out here we wait until something is stolen before we try to prove who did it!”

  “That’s just it! Nancy thinks Renegade was stolen,” Tammy explained.

  “Merciful heavens!” Peggy declared.

  Hank’s eyes registered disbelief. “He took off. That’s all.”

  “Then why haven’t we found him?” Nancy challenged. “Unless he’s been hidden, he would’ve turned up by now.”

  “Bah!” Shaking his head, Hank turned and left the room.

  Peggy glanced from one girl to the other. “I, uh, think I can handle this myself,” she said, gesturing to the food. “You girls run along and get cleaned up for the barbecue.”

  George removed her apron gratefully, but Bess lingered in the kitchen. “I’ll be up soon,” she told Nancy.

  A few minutes later, Nancy opened the connecting door to the cousins’ room. She’d already changed into fresh jeans and a western shirt with pearl buttons. Flopping onto Bess’s bed, she said, “I have this feeling that I’m missing something—something important.”

  “You?” George grinned. “I doubt it.”

  Nancy rested her chin in her hand. “If only I could figure out who stole Renegade and planted the Masons’ things in my bag.”

  “And how Twister’s been drugged?” George asked.

  “If he’s been drugged,” Nancy said in vexation. “So far, we can’t prove that, either.”

  “So where are we?” George asked. She was brushing her short dark hair and watching Nancy in the reflection of the bureau mirror.

  “Back to square one.”

  The door suddenly burst open, and Bess, her blue eyes shining, flew into the room. “I know who the culprit is!” she whispered loudly as she closed the door. “I know who’s behind everything—and I can prove it!”

  9

  This Party’s a Blast

  “Who?” Nancy and George asked together.

  “Mike Mathews!” Bess said. She dug into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a yellowed page from the local newspaper, the Chronicle. Triumphantly, she held it toward Nancy.

  George read over Nancy’s shoulder: “Local Bronc Buster Busted Himself.”

  The story was six months old and reported that Mike Mathews had been convicted of stealing from guests at the ranch where he worked—the Circle B! He had been fired by Nathaniel Baines, who owned the popular ranch and was father to Stella Baines, a famous bareback rider. The Circle B was known for its prize rodeo stock and small zoo of exotic reptiles.

  “How’d you find out about this?” George asked.

  Bess sat on the edge of her bed and smiled in satisfaction. “In those old newspapers in the pantry. The headline caught my eye.”

  George looked thoughtful. “Why would Mike Mathews let Renegade escape? What would he get out of it?”

  “Isn’t Stella Baines his girlfriend?” Bess asked.

  Nancy brightened. “That’s right. And if Tammy enters the Independence Day Rodeo, Stella might lose the bareback riding contest! It’s worth a lot of money. The winner will be awarded a big commercial contract.”

  “Peggy told me that the rodeo was going to be on national television,” George added. “And some of the winning contestants might be offered a part in a movie.”

  “So it’s worth a lot of money,” Nancy thought aloud, “as well as fame.”

  “Maybe Mike is sabotaging Tammy’s chances because he’s in love with Stella,” Bess murmured.

  “If he’s sabotaging anything at all,” Nancy remarked. “Remember—we still don’t have any proof.”

  George grinned crookedly and squared a turquoise-colored Stetson on her head. “Then let’s go find some.”

  “Where?” Bess asked. “At the barbecue?”

  “For starters,” Nancy said, thinking ahead. “I can’t wait to talk to Mike Mathews and Nathaniel Baines!”

  • • •

  An hour later, the smells of tangy barbecue sauce, fresh-baked cornbread, and strawberry pie filled the air. Guests gathered around the open pit where the char-blackened beef was sizzling. Lanterns flickered in the spreading branches of the trees overhead, and conversation buzzed through the throng.

  Nancy, Bess, and George joined the guests and neighbors of Calloway Ranch. As she filled her plate, Nancy searched the crowd, her gaze moving over the faces of the people she knew until she found Stella Baines.

  Stella’s platinum hair shone beneath the lanterns. She was standing next to a tall, heavyset man with big jowls, a deep laugh, and silver white hair.

  “Here I go,” Nancy whispered to Bess as she wended her way through the guests toward Stella. “Hi,” she said, waving at the pretty rodeo queen.

  “Hi—Nancy, isn’t it?” Stella asked. She
stared at Nancy as if she barely recognized her.

  “Right.” Nancy glanced up at the big man.

  “I’m Nathaniel Baines, Stella’s father,” he said, his voice booming as he extended his hand and clasped Nancy’s palm in a firm grip. “Welcome to Montana!”

  “Thank you.”

  “I hear you’re a detective of some sort.”

  Stella shot him an anxious look.

  “Of some sort,” Nancy replied with a bright smile. “I’ve been trying to find Renegade. He escaped the other night.”

  “So I heard,” Nathaniel remarked. “Stella said something about it, and I thought I saw him on the west end of my property. But I guess I was wrong. That horse was just a range stallion. Don’t know how I could’ve made such a mistake. Renegade’s pretty distinctive—except when he’s near Twister. I can’t tell those two apart.”

  “Nobody can,” Mike Mathews said as he joined the group. Nancy turned toward him, and she nearly gasped. He was wearing jeans, a plaid shirt, and a belt with a silver buckle—a buckle just like the one she had seen before she was knocked out in the barn! She wondered now if Mike had been her attacker. She couldn’t be sure. Lots of ranch hands wore silver buckles, and she still didn’t have any proof that he was involved in Renegade’s disappearance.

  Nathaniel Baines’s face grew hard as he stared at the young ranch hand, but Mike met the older man’s gaze steadily.

  “Your friend George is looking for you,” Mike said to Nancy. He sent Stella an affectionate glance before walking quickly away.

  Nancy excused herself from Nathaniel and Stella but didn’t go to look for George. Instead, she followed Mike as he strode toward the stables. “Wait a minute,” Nancy called.

  Mike stopped short and turned on the heel of his boot. “Your friend is back at the party,” he said curtly.

  “I know,” Nancy said. “But I wanted to talk to you.”

  He faced her but didn’t seem interested. “What about?”

  “The other night, when I was in the stallion barn—”

  “I remember,” he cut in. “You were asking all sorts of questions while I was trying to calm Twister down.”

  “No—later. I was in the stallion barn alone.”