Page 21 of Last Resort

Etta ran her finger down the columns of small type in the old book. “Here we go.”

Erik leaned forward to see.

“There’s not much, but it’s a note about a new theater, arcade, and casino on the Sewell’s Point pier called the Fun Factory,” she noted. “And there’s an address.”

They found entries in the books for 1910 through 1914, then nothing.

“Uh-oh,” Etta said. “That’s not good. A lot of places had catastrophic fires back in the day. Or the owner just went bankrupt.”

Searching the newspaper microfiche for 1914 turned up one headline. “Sewell’s Point casino destroyed by fire,” Erik read aloud. He skimmed down through the article.

“According to this, it had a vaudeville theater, arcade, bowling alley, and casino,” Erik continued. “And it says ‘fire of uncertain origin.’ Hmm…do you think that’s code for ‘Atlantic City Mob didn’t like the competition’?”

Etta smirked. “That’s always a possibility. Or ‘owner needed the insurance money.’ Well, you found what you were looking for.”

Erik snapped pictures of the documents with his phone before helping Etta put everything back. “Thank you so much. You have some great resources. I’m sure I’ll be back.”

“Please visit again. And I’ll have to poke my nose into your shop. Susan’s been after me to drop by, and I just never seem to find the time,” Etta replied.

Erik checked his watch when he left the library and realized enough time had passed to catch up to Jaxon at the end of his day at the Center for the Arts.

He drove over and parked next to the building. The sign outside announced “Jersey Shore Amusements: A History of Fun in the Sun.”

The receptionist smiled when he walked in and waved him through. “Mr. Davies is expecting you.”

Erik found Jaxon in the main exhibit room, overseeing the placement of cases and signage.

“Erik! Great timing. I was just finishing here. Come see what we’re working on, and then we can go back to my office.”

Jaxon Davies still had the stage presence honed by decades on Broadway and his charisma magic. Tall, slender, with bleached white hair and an eclectic fashion sense, he reminded Erik of David Bowie in the singer’s “Thin White Duke” era.

“Amusement parks?” Erik walked into the jumble of a display in progress.

“Don’t mind the mess—it’s truly organized chaos.” Jaxon dismissed the litter of packing crates and half-assembled displays.

“How is it that whenever you do an exhibit, the theme ends up haunting me in real life?”

Jaxon turned, intrigued. “Do tell. What now?”

“Does your exhibit have anything about the Fun Factory in Sewell’s Point?”

Jaxon’s eyes widened. “We do. Erik—you’ve got to tell me everything.”

Erik pulled out his phone and scrolled to the photo of the old poker chips. “These arrived in the mail without a return address. They’re a little haunted, and I think the owner came to a bad end.”

Jaxon took the phone and made the image larger. “You wouldn’t consider lending them to us for the display, would you?”

“Did you miss the part about ‘a little haunted’?” Erik teased. “If we can figure out where they came from and make sure there’s nothing dangerous hanging around, I’m happy to lend them. What do you know?”

Jaxon took him by the elbow and guided Erik to a corner of the room. “This is our ‘Paradise Lost’ part of the exhibit—a tribute to the parks that have disappeared over the years.”

One of the displays featured a map and a legend of the places marked, each of them a now-defunct amusement park with the dates of operation.

“Wow. I knew New Jersey had been a tourist spot for a long time, but these go back to the 1800s,” Erik said, fascinated. “I’ll admit that I’m a sucker for a good theme park even though I’m not a coaster fan.”

“Get your boy to take you to Wildwood more often,” Jaxon said with a knowing wink. “Ride the rides, eat junk food, and make out on the Ferris wheel.”

“Is Arjun a fan?” Erik teased back, mentioning Jaxon’s husband.

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