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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 hai
"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 learned 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!
