Photo Finish

by Bonnie Bryant

  Mr. Kennemere was shaking his head, looking concerned. “Monkeyshines ate some moldy hay?” he asked. “Is he all right?”

  “He’s fine, sir,” Stevie said. She glanced at Kelly out of the corner of her eye and saw that the young woman was frowning. That gave her new determination. Even if Mr. Kennemere didn’t know anything about the incident, it didn’t necessarily mean his daughter was innocent as well. “We do have reason to think someone connected with Garamond might have been involved though. Maybe even your daughter.”

  Kelly sat up straighter in her seat, looking startled, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Oh, really?” Mr. Kennemere said, beginning to smile again. “Let’s hear your reasons.”

  “First of all,” Stevie said, “Kelly didn’t seem to want us around last night when we went to look at Garamond—especially when she heard we were friends of Mr. McLeod’s. Then this morning, after we found the hay, we saw her again, and she seemed really nervous.” Stevie paused to let that sink in. “And finally,” she continued, “we saw her having a secret meeting with Monkeyshines’s groom, who we think might be in cahoots with her.”

  Carole had been watching Kelly Kennemere carefully throughout Stevie’s speech. The young woman’s face had been growing redder and redder with every word, so that in the end she looked as if she were about to explode. Carole raised her eyebrows. Maybe Stevie’s suspicions were right!

  “Daddy, I have something to tell you,” Kelly blurted out suddenly.

  The Saddle Club exchanged a triumphant look. She was about to confess!

  But the girls were as surprised as Mr. Kennemere at Kelly’s next words. “I’ve got a new boyfriend,” she said. “Well, actually not that new—we’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now. But I’ve been keeping it a secret because I wasn’t sure you’d approve. He’s not the kind of guy I usually date—he didn’t even go to college.”

  “What?” Mr. Kennemere exclaimed. “Who is it, sweetie?”

  Kelly took a deep breath. “It’s Eddie Hernandez—he’s the groom these girls were talking about. We’re in love.”

  Stevie’s jaw dropped. Carole gasped. Lisa almost dropped her camera in surprise. “You and Eddie are—a couple?” Stevie stammered.

  Kelly nodded. “Sorry to blow your theory. I’m not your horse poisoner. But I have been sneaking around. And any contact with people from Maskee Farms makes me nervous, for obvious reasons.” She turned to her father. “Just today Eddie was trying to convince me that it was time to stop hiding our relationship.” She glanced at The Saddle Club. “I guess that’s when these girls saw us. But I was just so afraid you’d be mad, Daddy.”

  By this time Mr. Kennemere had recovered from his initial surprise. For a second his mouth turned down in a frown. “Well, I’ll admit I’m a little disappointed—”

  “I knew it,” Kelly interrupted. “I knew you wouldn’t approve!”

  “Hold on, sweetheart,” Mr. Kennemere said. “You didn’t let me finish. I’m disappointed only that you kept this from me.” His face broke into a wide smile. “But how could I be mad that my only daughter is in love? And with an honest and hardworking fellow like young Hernandez, no less?”

  “Really?” Kelly said. “You approve of Eddie even though he’s only a groom? You really do?”

  “Of course!” Mr. Kennemere boomed. “I’ve known the young man for some time now—through David McLeod, of course. He swears by Eddie Hernandez—after all, he trusts him completely with Monkeyshines.” He paused. “But how did you meet him, Kelly?”

  “We met when I flew down to Hialeah to visit you for my spring break,” Kelly explained. “Eddie was there with Monkeyshines then.” She looked over at The Saddle Club and smiled. “Hialeah is a racetrack in Florida,” she explained. “And by the way, thanks for your snooping. I guess I underestimated my father.”

  “I guess you did, my dear!” Mr. Kennemere said with a grin. “But never mind. This is wonderful news. Just wonderful.” He reached out to give his daughter a hug. The Saddle Club watched, feeling a little touched in spite of themselves.

  The tender moment was interrupted by a loud nasal voice from the aisle. It was Kent Calhoun, the reporter. “Excuse me, Mr. Kennemere,” he said loudly. “Could I have a word with you about the Preakness?”

  “Come on,” Carole whispered to her friends. “I think that’s our cue to leave.” The Saddle Club crept away as Kent Calhoun began to question Mr. Kennemere about Garamond’s chances.

  “WELL, SO MUCH for most of our suspects,” Stevie exclaimed in disgust when the girls were back inside the clubhouse. “It wasn’t Mr. Kennemere, or Kelly Kennemere, or Eddie.”

  “I’m glad it wasn’t Eddie,” Carole said. “I always knew he was too nice to be a horse poisoner.”

  “Me too,” Lisa agreed. “But we do still have one suspect left, and he’s not so nice.”

  “Duncan Gibbs,” Stevie said with a nod. “It has to be him.”

  “But how can we prove it?” Carole said. She pulled her program out of her pocket and flipped through it. “He’s riding in three or four other races today. He won’t have time to do anything suspicious.”

  Stevie thought for a second. “I have an idea. Let’s go talk to some of the other jockeys. They must know Duncan pretty well. Maybe one of them can give us some clues. Maybe he even told one of them about his plot.”

  Carole and Lisa shrugged. Stevie’s plan sounded a little farfetched, but they couldn’t think of anything better to suggest.

  They walked to the stable area, showing their special passes. After the frenzy of the stands, the stable area seemed relatively peaceful. The girls took up a position outside the jockeys’ room just beyond the paddock and waited for someone to come out.

  They didn’t have long to wait. Less than five minutes later a small, wiry, red-haired man came out of the building. Stevie hurried forward to meet him.

  “Hi there,” she said brightly, giving him what she hoped was a dazzling smile. “My name’s Stevie.”

  The jockey, who was a couple of inches shorter than Stevie, looked up at her. “Hi yourself, Miss Stevie,” he replied. “I’m John.”

  “Hi, John,” Stevie said quickly. “Um, do you by any chance know a jockey named Duncan Gibbs?”

  “Know him?” John said. “Sure, I know him. He’s a buddy of mine. Why’re you asking?”

  Stevie shrugged. “No reason,” she said. “We just wanted to ask you a few questions about him.”

  John grinned. “No problem, missy,” he said. “Let me see if I can guess what particular information you’re after. Duncan is twenty-four years old, five foot two, and no, he’s not married.” He winked at the girls.

  For a second Stevie was confused. Then she realized what John was talking about—he thought they had a crush on Duncan! “No, you don’t understand,” she said urgently. “That’s not the kind of questions I meant. We need some more specific information—”

  “Oh, I get it,” John interrupted, still grinning. “You probably knew all that other stuff from the newspaper, right? Well, if you need to know anything more detailed than that, maybe you’d better talk to Duncan yourselves. If you’re lucky, maybe he’ll even give you his autograph.” He winked again and walked away.

  Stevie sighed in frustration. “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” she exclaimed.

  In the distance, Lisa heard the track loudspeaker announce the post parade for the third race. She cleared her throat. “Stevie? Maybe it’s time to give up,” she suggested tentatively.

  “Give up?” Stevie cried. “The Saddle Club never gives up! Besides, we’re closer than ever to solving this mystery!”

  “But we don’t have much time,” Lisa said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Carole said. “Stevie’s right, Lisa. We’ve narrowed down our list of suspects. All we have to do is find a way to prove that Duncan is guilty. We can’t let him get away with trying to poison Monkeyshines.”

  “What?” came an out
raged cry from very close behind them.

  The three girls whirled around and found themselves face-to-face with Duncan Gibbs, who was accompanied by the red-haired jockey John.

  “What’s all this about Monkeyshines?” Duncan demanded. He had obviously overheard what Carole had just said.

  Stevie faced him bravely, hands on her hips. “We found moldy hay in his stall this morning,” she said. “We think you put it there to make him sick, because of your fight with Mr. McLeod.”

  “You’re crazy, little girl,” Duncan snarled. “I did no such thing.”

  “But we saw you near his stall—” Carole began to say.

  Duncan cut her off with a look. “Listen, you junior Nancy Drews, or whatever you are,” he growled. “I may not like McLeod much, and I have my reasons for that. But no matter what I might like to do to him, there’s no way I’d ever take it out on a great colt like Monkeyshines.” He was quiet for a moment, and his expression softened a little. “That horse was one of the best I ever rode,” he added in a low voice.

  Stevie, Carole, and Lisa exchanged glances. Duncan sounded sincere. But for all they knew, it could just be an act.

  “Look, girls,” John put in, stepping forward. “I have no idea what this is all about, but I can tell you one thing. Duncan is as honest as the day is long. He’d never do anything illegal or unethical, especially if it involved hurting a horse.”

  “Don’t waste your breath, John,” Duncan snapped, whirling around and beginning to stalk away. “Let’s get out of here.” The two men disappeared into the jockeys’ room.

  Just then Stephen, Mr. McLeod’s jockey, walked toward the girls from the opposite direction. “Well, hello there,” he greeted them with a smile. “How are you enjoying your day at the track?”

  “Stephen, how well do you know Duncan Gibbs?” Stevie asked the jockey, not bothering to answer his question.

  “Duncan? Weren’t you asking about him earlier today?”

  “We sure were,” Carole said. She glanced at Stevie and Lisa. “I think we ought to tell him why.”

  Her friends nodded. The Saddle Club proceeded to tell Stephen the whole story. When they’d finished, he just shook his head.

  “If there’s any bad guy to be found, I can tell you one thing for sure—it isn’t Duncan Gibbs,” the jockey said.

  “But you were just telling us how much he hates Mr. McLeod, so we thought—” Stevie began to say.

  Stephen didn’t let her finish. “Like I was also telling you, Duncan is a bad-tempered, stubborn blowhard who sometimes thinks he knows better than the trainers he works for. That’s cost him some jobs, not to mention some friends,” Stephen said. “But he’s no criminal, and he really does love the horses he rides. He’d never do anything to hurt them.”

  Stevie, Carole, and Lisa glanced at one another again, unconvinced.

  “If you don’t believe that, then at least you can believe this,” Stephen said. “You say you found that hay around seven this morning, right?”

  The girls nodded.

  “Well, I was in the track cafeteria having breakfast this morning from around twenty of seven to about five after,” Stephen said. “And Duncan Gibbs was there the whole time I was, reading the newspaper. He couldn’t have been skulking around Monk’s stable planting bad hay.”

  “But what other explanation is there?” Stevie exclaimed, unwilling to lose their last suspect.

  Stephen shrugged. “The explanation is, there’s no explanation. It must have been an accident.” He glanced at his watch. “Whoops, I’d better get inside if I don’t want to be late. Hold Fast and I are in the next race, you know.”

  “We know,” Lisa said. “We’ll be cheering for you.”

  The girls waved good-bye as the jockey headed in to get changed. Then they wandered aimlessly back around the paddock toward the gate to the clubhouse.

  After a few minutes of silence, Stevie spoke up halfheartedly. “You know, we don’t really know Stephen all that well,” she said. “Maybe he’s covering up for Duncan.…”

  Seeing the looks on her friends’ faces, she let her voice trail off. Stephen wasn’t covering up for Duncan, and Stevie knew it. She sighed. After all their work, she couldn’t believe they were no closer to solving the mystery than when they had started.

  “You know, I’m beginning to think Stephen is right,” Carole said quietly. “I think it must have been an accident after all.”

  Stevie shook her head. “I still can’t believe it,” she said with a frown. “Something just doesn’t seem quite right about it—there are too many coincidences that don’t make sense.”

  “Maybe,” Lisa said, “but we’re fresh out of suspects.”

  “And motives,” Carole added.

  Stevie shrugged and sighed. “I guess you’re right,” she admitted. “But I really wish we could get to the bottom of it.”

  “Come on,” Lisa said. “Let’s go back to our seats. It’s almost time for the next race.”

  The Saddle Club rejoined Max in the box. Mr. McLeod and Judy were there too. The three adults were discussing Hold Fast’s chances and didn’t notice the girls’ glum expressions.

  Lisa rested her chin in her hands and stared ahead moodily, waiting for the race to start. The more she thought about it, the more she thought Stevie was right. The moldy-hay incident was just a little too suspicious to be written off as an accident. Even though she hadn’t been that interested in the investigation at first, she couldn’t help thinking that now they seemed to be giving up, and that meant they’d failed. It wasn’t like The Saddle Club to fail at anything—and it certainly wasn’t like Lisa. She didn’t like the feeling.

  To take her mind off it, she picked up her camera and started fiddling with the focus, aiming it at different people in the crowd. Then, when the horses stepped onto the track for the post parade, she focused on them. But she was so far away that she could recognize Hold Fast only by Stephen’s blue and white silks. She snapped a picture anyway. It turned out to be the last one on the roll, and Lisa barely had time to put in a new one before the race started.

  It was an exciting race, and The Saddle Club cheered loyally for Hold Fast, but they weren’t feeling quite as enthusiastic as they had earlier in the day. Somehow just being at the track didn’t seem quite as exciting to them anymore—even when Hold Fast finished third.

  “What now?” asked Carole after the race was over.

  As Lisa tucked her roll of used film into her bag, she remembered the pictures she’d taken to the developer before lunch. “My film should be ready by now,” she said. “How about if we run and pick it up?”

  Carole glanced at her watch. “Okay,” she agreed. “We have a good hour and a half before the Preakness.”

  Stevie nodded, perking up a little. “No matter how much we kid you about this photography stuff, I can’t wait to see the pictures,” she said. “I hope you got some good ones of Monkeyshines.”

  The Saddle Club quickly told Max and Judy where they were going. Then they headed for the track entrance.

  “HERE YOU GO,” the clerk at the photo shop said, handing Lisa several thick packets.

  “Thanks.” Lisa paid her bill, then she and her friends left the shop.

  “Okay, let’s see them,” Stevie urged once they were outside on the sidewalk. “Open them now.”

  “All right, just a second,” Lisa said. She carefully slit open one of the envelopes and pulled out the first batch. Stevie and Carole crowded closer so they could look at the pictures over Lisa’s shoulders.

  “Oh! There’s a good one of Garamond,” Carole said admiringly as Lisa flipped slowly through the pile.

  Stevie nodded. “And check out that one of Judy by the track entrance,” she said. “Some of these are really good, Lisa!”

  “I guess all that practicing is paying off,” Carole commented.

  “Practice makes perfect,” Lisa said with a grin.

  Meanwhile Stevie was staring at the next picture. “He
y, look, it’s Blackie! This one turned out really well—you can see every detail.”

  “It’s true,” Carole said. “I think this is the best one yet.” Suddenly she frowned, and leaned a little closer. “Hey, isn’t that that reporter in the background?”

  Stevie and Lisa looked closer too.

  “You’re right.” Lisa squinted at the tiny figure that could just be seen at the edge of the picture. It was Kent Calhoun, and he was leaving the Maskee Farms stable. “What’s he doing there?”

  “I don’t know,” Carole said. “I didn’t notice him there when you were taking the picture.”

  “He almost looks as though he doesn’t want to be noticed,” Stevie said. “See how he’s sort of peeking out? Like he doesn’t want anyone outside to see him leaving.”

  Carole gasped. “You’re right!” she exclaimed. “Do you know what this means? He could have been the one who tried to poison Monk!”

  “Of course!” Stevie cried. “Why else would he be skulking around Mr. McLeod’s barn at that time of the morning?”

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “Well, let’s see,” she said. “He could have been looking for Mr. McLeod to interview him. Or he could have been looking for Stephen to interview him. Or Eddie, or Judy, or the trainer, or any of half a dozen other people.”

  “No way,” Stevie declared. “He’s guilty. I can feel it in my bones.” She grabbed the photo out of Lisa’s hand and waved it in the air. “And we have the evidence right here.”

  Carole shook her head. “I’m not sure about this, Stevie. What possible motive could Kent have? Besides, the picture isn’t evidence. All it shows is a man walking out of a stable shed. There’s no law against that.”

  “Come on, you guys,” Stevie said. “Don’t tell me you’re not just a tiny bit convinced that Kent might have done it.”

  Lisa shrugged. “I’m not convinced either way,” she said. “He was there at around the right time—the picture does prove that. But just because he was there doesn’t mean he did it.”

  “What it does mean is that we’ve just got to do a little more investigating,” Stevie said eagerly. “Even if his evil plot failed, we still can’t just let him get away with it!”