“Oh no,” she said. “Locals, certainly. They settled the tab and the rooms were in tip-top shape when I checked.”
“So they left nothing behind?” Wesley asked.
“Well, just the telegram from Miss Robbins,” she said, like they should have known. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You said your names were Lord Fine and Sebastian de Leon.” She held an envelope out to them, and Wesley could see their names on the front.
He and Sebastian exchanged another look. “Ah yes, thetelegram,” Wesley said, as Sebastian took it. “Why else could we possibly be here?”
“For the American history, of course.” She smiled at Wesley. “We get a lot of aficionados coming through to see the sights.”
For fuck’s sake. “We’re not sight-seers,” Wesley said flatly.
“Well, you could also be here for the pie.” The woman pointed to the restaurant next door. “After all, it is apple season.”
“Apple season.” Were the river views and fiery leaf-covered mountains not sufficient? How quaint did one town need to be? “We’re also not here for pie.”
“I might be here for pie,” Sebastian said.
Wesley fixed him with a stare.
“And to read our telegram from Jade, of course,” Sebastian hurriedly added. He tilted his head toward the restaurant. “It’s logical to read it over lunch, yes? You like logic.”
Wesley sighed but followed him through the archway into the restaurant next door.
Chapter Fourteen
DEAR LORD FINE AND SEBASTIAN STOP MUCH TO TELL YOU STOP
MEET ME TONIGHT MIDNIGHT STOP
TRY ON A BOWLER AT HUDSON HABERDASHERS STOP
“What the hell is going on?” Wesley said, across the table, as Sebastian read over Jade’s telegram again. “Who the hell are the Hudson Haberdashers? How the hell did Miss Robbins know we would be here and why the hell is there a tiny pumpkin on my table?”
“Halloween,” Sebastian said. “Sorry, that’s the onlyhellI can answer.”
The Horseman Inn’s restaurant was charmingly decorated for the season, with wreaths of fall leaves, barrels of apples, and a scarecrow by the door. Wesley seemed annoyed by all of it. “So Halloween is made into athing, in America? Big enough the governor’s son is throwing a masquerade?” He sighed. “A pity Mr. Zhang can’t find us on the astral plane. I can’t believe you’re magic yet we’re resorting to telegrams.”
The waiter came to the table with their lunches and two pieces of apple pie for Sebastian. “Excuse me,” Sebastian said, before he could disappear. “Have you ever heard of Hudson Haberdashers?”
The waiter suddenly wasn’t meeting Sebastian’s eyes. “Men’s clothes and accessories. The company used to have a hat factory on the river before they moved it up to Beacon, but there’s a shifty little shop east of here that still sells the hats. That’s all I know.”
“Oh,” Sebastian said. The waiter still wasn’t looking directly at him. “Do you have an address?”
“I’m sure I’ve never been there,” the waiter said.
Across the table, Wesley narrowed his eyes. “Then how do you know it’sshifty?”
“Well—I mean—it’s not the best neighborhood, so it’sprobablyshifty, right?” the waiter said quickly. “Who goes to those kinds of neighborhoods? Not me, no sir. You ask anyone, they’ll tell you Ernie only goes to work and church.”
Sebastian opened his mouth, but Wesley had already leaned forward. “We don’t have all day.” He set a five-dollar bill on the table and slid it toward the waiter with one finger. “Does Ernie go anywhere besides churchnow?”
Ernie’s eyes were on the bill. “Oh,HudsonHaberdashers, right right, actually I do know the shop that sells those.” He flipped the paper menu over and began to sketch out streets on the back with his pencil. “It’s east of here. Don’t go north to the old church and cemetery.”
“What church and cemetery?” Wesley said impatiently.
“From ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.’” Ernie glanced up from the paper. “Aren’t you tourists?”
Wesley’s eye twitched.
