Robin Graves: “So, Digger, why did Nick head to Sleepy Hollow? Looking for some peace and quiet, or maybe a place to rest . . .  forever, shall we say”

Digger Felps: “Nah, Robin, the kid wasn’t shopping for headstones. His parents and sister ditched him for a quick trip to Kansas so they could move their belongings back East. They thought Sleepy Hollow would be a charming little town to solve a mystery. Spoiler alert: they were right.”

Robin Graves: “And what’s the deal with that Headless Horseman Inn? Sounds like my kind of haunt.”

Digger Felps: “Oh, it’s a scream, Robin. Creepy décor, spooky vibes, and guests who might just crawl out of their coffins for midnight snacks. Nick didn’t even get a proper welcome. First person he met was Nancy Drew, and she seemed more like the real deal than some rich girl who inherited a creepy old boarding house!”

Robin Graves: “Speaking of Nancy Drew, what’s her deal? Is she playing detective, or is she just another ghoul trying to upstage the Wendigo?”

Digger Felps: “She’s more like Nick’s unlicensed sidekick. They stumble on clues together, but she has a knack for sniffing out trouble in ways Nick doesn’t. She’s more a young Agatha Christie while Nick’s going full-on Scooby-Doo.”

Robin Graves: “Tell me about Sun Bear. Is he really just this wise man with an exotic past, or one of those cryptic types who makes you think you’re about to solve the mystery when you’re not?”

Digger Felps: “Oh, he’s got the whole ‘wise elder who knows too much’ vibe. He drops Wendigo lore on Nick like it’s the nightly news, but half the time, Nick’s just standing there wondering if this guy’s been sampling the spooky punch.”

Robin Graves: “Alright, let’s talk evidence. What did Nick dig up at the crime scene?”

Digger Felps: “Evidence? Try a buffet of creepy clues like claw marks, suspicious footprints, and what looked like shredded fur. Either it was the werewolf or the local dry cleaner’s mascot had a bad day.”

Robin Graves: “How about R.I.P.’s restaurant? I hear the menu’s to die for.”

Digger Felps: “Oh, it’s killer, Robin. But don’t trust the specials. The restaurant’s more about dishing out clues than food. Nick found out some of the suspects had late-night cravings… for alibis, not appetizers.”

Robin Graves: “Tell me about this ‘70s group Nick kept running into. What’s their deal?”

Digger Felps: “They’re like ghosts of Groovy Past! A bunch of wannabe actors playing TV cops and detective characters, trying to relive the glory days of classic TV. They show up with theories wilder than a disco ball, but somehow, they keep stumbling into the action—bell-bottoms and all.”

Robin Graves: “Let’s not leave out the cryptic messages. What was Nick getting—text messages from the undead?”

Digger Felps: “Not quite. More like spooky riddles leading him to Raven’s Rock. It’s the kind of place you’d expect a werewolf to hang out, but turns out, the truth’s stranger than fur-fiction.”

Robin Graves: “Alright, Digger, time for the big reveal. Who’s the killer, and was it a hairy situation?”

Digger Felps: “We’ll leave that for readers to decide.”

Robin Graves: “Last question, Digger. That strange confrontation on the train ride home. What was that about?”

Digger Felps: “I’m betting it wasn’t a trailer for a Hallmark movie. My money’s on someone who wanted Nick to stay in the mystery business. You know, keep him howling for answers.”