Nostalgia City Mystery #5
Mystery
Date Published: 03-13-2025
Publisher: Archer & Clark
A public war between a governor and a theme park lights the fuse on a story
of hate groups, murder, corruption, racism, and political espionage.
Ex-cop turned theme-park cab driver Lyle Deming finds the body of a park
visitor during an LGBTQ event. The dead man catered gay weddings. Was it a
hate crime?
Arizona governor Rod Gudgel, running for reelection, calls it a random
shooting. He mocks Nostalgia City theme park for its inclusiveness, uses
homophobic and racist slurs, and later challenges the safety of its
rides.
Park CEO, “Max” Maxwell lambasts the governor’s prejudice and
insensitivity, and the fight is on—in public and undercover. Maxwell
drafts Lyle to investigate the murder while Kate Sorensen, his 6’-2½” public
affairs VP, goes on the offensive in the media.
When an assault rifle attack kills and injures park employees demonstrating
for gay rights at a Gudgel campaign office, Nostalgia City mourns, and Kate
slams the governor’s unsympathetic response to the slaughter. While the FBI
and sheriff’s deputies investigate the crime, the governor redoubles his
efforts to regulate the park out of business.
Looking for a shooting suspect, Lyle gets a little too close to an armed
hate group—with a possible connection to the governor. His lady friend Kate
flies to Montana where she digs into the governor’s unseemly past uncovering
a trail of malfeasance dating back two decades and arousing Gudgel allies
who want to stop her at all cost.
With Lyle’s wry humor and Kate’s stick-to-itiveness the story moves quickly
as mysteries and subplots multiply and loop together threatening the park,
their relationship, and their lives.
EXCERPT
The Woke and the Dead – Mark S. Bacon
CHAPTER 43
Lyle listened to Jim Croce singing “Time in a Bottle” as he accelerated. He wanted to get to the barbecue early to make it easier to meet people as they arrived. Apparently, a handful of other guys had a similar idea.
Lyle parked in front of a broad adobe Southwest territorial style home. A gravel drive led around the side of the house and continued through heavy oak gates opened wide. Brick-bordered cactus gardens connected by narrow gravel paths circled the backyard that covered a half acre or more. In the middle, conversation groups of teak tables and chairs, shaded by umbrellas, surrounded a curving, lighted swimming pool.
At the far side of the pool, a clutch of five men in casual clothes stood talking near a fire pit. As Lyle approached, his shoes crunching on the gravel, they all looked up and the conversation ebbed. The words, “I mean it, man,” died in the air.
“C’mere Lyle.” The guy Lyle remembered as Ed, the wild Suburban driver, motioned to him.
Lyle recognized Wylie, the supervisor—and dead shot—from the shooting range. The man extended his hand.
“Lyle, I’m Wylie,” he said with his dimpled-chin smile. “We owe you a thanks for your quick thinking to help save Bobby’s life. Saved him from his own carelessness.”
“Jake and Ed helped. Took all of us to get him treated.”
“Glad you could make it here tonight,” Wiley said. “You can meet the guys and find out about us. And about our mission for the country.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Lyle studied Wylie’s face, wondering if his name was an appropriate adjective.
“We tol’ him some about CB,” Ed added.
Wylie pointed to a galvanized tub loaded with ice and beer in bottles. “Help yourself, Lyle.”
Floodlights along the edge of the house and around a ramada next to a large, smoking barbecue supplemented the setting sun. Lyle looked at the three other men in the group and introduced himself. For a moment he forgot where he was. The clink of glasses, the smell of meat searing on the grill, the light shimmering on the pool surface made him imagine a barbecue with guys who might be in the same bowling league, softball team, or Kiwanis Club. But they were hate group members, possibly killers. He tried to remember the faces.
Lyle wandered to the ice tub and helped himself. He planned to circulate and collect information—casually. His back to the fire pit, he set his beer bottle on a table. He pulled out his phone and, pretending to do something innocuous, he took several pictures of the group. Enlarged, the photos might provide decent mug shots.
“Keeping up on Instagram?” a voice behind him said.
Lyle lowered his phone and turned it off in one motion. “Hey, Jake. You just come from work?” Lyle pointed to his shirt and tie.
“Yeah, working late on specs for a new commercial development. Citizens are worried about more traffic.”
Lyle turned halfway round, looking at the grounds. “This is a beautiful place.”
“Wylie does all right. So you took the invitation to come.”
“I’m interested in the Cadre Brave and would like to know more. What are you guys concerned about?”
“I guess concerned is a good way to describe the group.”
“So help me understand. What’s wrong with the country? What does Cadre Brave want to change?” Lyle picked up his beer and held it in front of him.
“It’s like what Ed and I said the other day. We want to maintain American values. They’re slipping away. The values that our forefathers fought and died for. You think George Washington fought so drag queens could read books to students?”
Yes, exactly. He helped guarantee freedom of self expression. “Did they have drag queens then? The guys did all wear wigs.”
“Seriously, it’s what our heritage represents,” Jake said. “But today, values and priorities are shifting. Back in Washington and here.
“Look, I’m not a racist, but can’t you see how our cities, our culture, are being diluted by the mass of immigrants, illegals?
About the Author
My first three mysteries were published by Black Opal Books with my debut
novel earning recommendation from the American Library Association.
I started writing mysteries after a writing career in journalism and
marketing. Prior to my novels, Ether Books of the UK published a collection
of my flash fiction mysteries and many of my shorts have been published in
online literary magazines. During my business career I wrote two books for
John Wiley and Sons, one of which was a Library Journal Best Business Book
of the Year. I have an MA in journalism and a golden retriever.
I write the kind of mysteries I like to read. I appreciate stories
with twists, turns, and puzzles which appeal to the head. But I also like a
mystery that appeals to the heart with a fast pace and challenges and
threats that put the protagonists in peril.
Contact Links
Twitter: @baconauthor
Purchase Links
