The Mystery at Saratoga

Brian, and Mart are gone, so I’ll say the same thing they’d say if they were here. I know how much you love solving mysteries, and I know that you and Honey plan to open the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency when you finish school. I think you’ll be great detectives, too.”
    Trixie blushed to the roots of her sandy hair, partly because of Dan’s praise, which was as rare as his uncle’s, but also because she knew what he was going to say next.
    “That’s right, Trix,” Dan said, reading her thoughts. “I’m going to say that you shouldn’t rush into this latest ‘mystery.’ My uncle has been taking care of himself for a long, long time. There’s no reason to think that he can’t continue to do so.
    “We don’t really have any reason to believe he needs any help. After all,” Dan said, forcing a grin, “Regan disappeared once before, if you’ll remember, and he came back with me! That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
    “Oh, no, Dan!” Trixie said hastily. “I’m awfully glad he did. And I admit that you’re right. I may be jumping to conclusions. Still....”
    Dan sighed. “All right, Trixie. I’m pretty worried about Regan, too. The library it is.”
    Trixie jumped to her feet. “Everybody meet at my house after supper. Bring your bikes. We’ll ride to the library and see what we can find out.” Looking at her friends’ worried faces, she thought, I hope we find something—something that will lead us to Regan.

A Troubled Dinner • 2

    LEAVING THE CLUBHOUSE, Trixie saw that the sun was much lower in the west than it had been when she went inside. Gleeps! I bet Moms has dinner almost ready, and I promised her I ’ d help! Once again, Trixie set off along the path between the clubhouse and Crabapple Farm at a trot.
    When Trixie burst through the kitchen door, the aroma of fried chicken and green beans cooked with onions and bacon told her that dinner was, in fact, almost ready to be served.
    “I’m sorry, Moms,” she said. She hugged her mother, who stood at the stove stirring the simmering gravy. “I had no idea it was so late.”
    “It’s not too late, Trixie,” her mother replied calmly. “I managed to leave setting the table and making some instant iced tea for you to take care of.” Seeing her daughter’s worried look, she asked, “What’s the matter, Trixie?”
    “Yeah, Trixie, what’s the matter?” piped Bobby Belden. Bobby made it a point to always be near the center of activity in the Belden household, and tonight he was making crayon squiggles in a coloring book while his mother bustled around the kitchen.
    Trixie almost blurted out the whole story, but she bit her lower lip to keep the words from tumbling out. It wouldn’t do to have Bobby find out that his friend Regan had disappeared—not now, when Trixie was still so upset that she might make the situation sound worse than it was. Instead, she paused a moment to catch her mother’s eye. “It’s nothing,” she said, tilting her head almost imperceptibly toward her younger brother.
    An equally subtle nod from her mother told Trixie that the subject would be dropped for now and brought up later, when Bobby was out of earshot.
    She had forgotten about the sixth sense that Bobby seemed to have for things he wasn’t supposed to know about. “Were you at the Manor House, Trixie?” he demanded. “Did you see Regan? Did he tell you to say hello to me, Trixie? He always tells you to say hello to me. Regan’s my very best friend in the whole world!”
    Trixie gathered her brother in her arms and hugged him. She felt as if putting her arms around him might somehow protect him from the truth— that his friend had disappeared, and no one knew where he had gone or why. “I wasn’t at the Manor House,” she said, “so I didn’t see Regan. But if I had, I’m sure he would have told me to say hello. He is a good friend, Bobby—to all of us.”
    Bobby wriggled out of Trixie’s arms and went happily back to his coloring book. Trixie hurried to the cupboard, took down the big glass pitcher, and began to make the iced tea. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother watching her closely, and she knew that Mrs. Belden had guessed that Trixie’s unhappiness was somehow tied to the Wheelers’ groom. I wish I could tell her all about it now , Trixie thought.
    With a sigh, Trixie busied herself with the last-minute preparations for dinner, trying to keep herself from thinking about Regan. That seemed to