The Mystery at Saratoga

increasingly embarrassed at her father’s behavior, and finally she, too, was silent.
    Trixie and Honey said very little, afraid that they might accidentally bring up a topic of conversation that would lead the trainer to another outburst against Regan. Thus, it was Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler and Mr. Worthington who did most of the talking, with Worthington dominating the discussion.
    On the surface, the man seemed as friendly and charming as he had the day before at the track. But with Regan’s description of him echoing in her mind, Trixie found herself looking at him—and listening to him—in a different way. He was, indeed, a man who liked to give orders rather than take them. He had chosen the restaurant, and he and the Stinsons had been waiting when the others arrived. Worthington took charge immediately, instructing everyone on where to sit and what to order from the menu.
    Maybe he’s just trying to make us all feel comfortable , Trixie thought. But if that was Worthington’s intention, he was failing—in Trixie’s opinion, at least. She felt suffocated, as though her entire evening were being planned to the last detail without regard to what she herself wanted.
    Trixie found herself remembering the incident at lunch the day before, when she’d asked Worthington if he’d rather have losing seasons at the track than risk losing his trainer. The angry look that had crossed his face had frightened her then, and she found herself giving in to his orders at the restaurant to keep from seeing it again.
    A large ego and a bad temper, Trixie thought. A combination like that makes for a person who could seek revenge.
    “That was a lovely meal,” Joan Stinson said, bringing Trixie’s thoughts back to the table. “But I overate, as usual, and I’d like to take a walk to help my digestion. Would you girls care to join me?” Eager to get away from the silent trainer and his overbearing employer, the girls readily agreed.
    The restaurant was built around a small courtyard with carefully tended flowers and shrubs and a small, man-made stream. It was there that Joan, Honey, and Trixie walked, silent at first, until Joan Stinson broke the stillness of the summer evening.
    “I feel that I should apologize for my father’s behavior during dinner. He made me feel terribly uncomfortable, and I assume that everyone else was feeling the same way. He has a lot on his mind tonight. Mr. Worthington just told him that he’s entered my father’s favorite horse in a claiming race the day after tomorrow.”
    “Not Gadbox!” Honey exclaimed.
    “What do you mean —just told him?” Trixie asked at the same time.
    Joan smiled wryly. “Yes, Gadbox, and just this evening, to answer both your questions. Mr. Worthington offered us a ride to the restaurant, then broke the news to us on the way. I wouldn’t put it past him if he planned the whole thing that way,” she added, her voice suddenly bitter, “telling us on the way here so that my father couldn’t voice his objections.”
    “But why would Mr. Worthington enter Gadbox in a claiming race?” Trixie asked. “We just saw him race yesterday, and he was fantastic. He won easily!”
    Joan Stinson shrugged. “J. T. Worthington is not a man who feels he must explain himself to his hired help,” she said. “He pulled this same trick seven years ago, right after my mother died. It cost my father his self-respect and a chance to become an owner instead of just a trainer, and I always believed it cost me, at least indirectly, the man I was in love with.”
    Honey and Trixie exchanged stunned glances. Could Joan Stinson be talking about Regan?
    “The man you loved?” Honey prompted softly. Joan Stinson laughed mirthlessly. “Forgive me. I’m being overly dramatic, I suppose. Regan wasn’t really a man at the time. He was a seventeen-year-old boy. And I was only sixteen, so what I think of as true love may have been just a childish infatuation. But I never got the chance to find out. Against my father’s wishes, Mr. Worthington entered a horse in a claiming race. After the race, it was discovered that the horse had been drugged. Suspicion turned to Regan, and he ran away, without even telling me good-bye. I didn’t believe that he was guilty. I still don’t. But I never got a chance to tell him that, either.”
    Trixie felt suddenly dizzy as she tried to accept this stunning revelation about Regan’s past.
    This beautiful young woman had once been in love with