Fiction Empire

Literature 1993. Written by Richard Matheson.

Source Features: BBB (1) MAP (3)

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Total Record Results: 4 - Medium: LITERATURE

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BOGUS BUSINESS BUREAU

Desert Ford
Car dealership mentioned in Chapter 3: Opening the door on the driver's side of the Mustang, he looked inside. The cassette and change box was there across the drive-shaft hump. His cassettes: Mahler, V aughan Williams, Copland, the Smithsonian History of Jazz in three cassettes. Any concept of coincidence was gone. It was his Mustang. And it had been stolen. Taken from the plant and parked in front of his house. Which made approximately no sense at all. Still, to be certain-proof and double proof, the only way, he heard Uncle Harry say-he opened the glove compartment and pulled out the papers inside. A repair bill from Desert Ford, his name printed on it. The registration slip, his name on it. "Well, goddamn," he muttered.

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Oasis Drive East
Street mentioned in Chapter 3: When he turned the corner onto Oasis Drive East, he saw his blue Mustang. It was parked in front of his garage. Exactly as he always parked it when he was home. His mind jumped automatically toward explanation. He'd been so distracted by his work, he'd left it at home. The illogic of that was immediately apparent. How had he gotten to work then? No one else had picked him up. There was no shuttle service between Oasis Village and Palladian.

Oasis Village
Town mentioned in Chapter 3: When he turned the corner onto Oasis Drive East, he saw his blue Mustang. It was parked in front of his garage. Exactly as he always parked it when he was home. His mind jumped automatically toward explanation. He'd been so distracted by his work, he'd left it at home. The illogic of that was immediately apparent. How had he gotten to work then? No one else had picked him up. There was no shuttle service between Oasis Village and Palladian.

Palladian
Town mentioned in Chapter 3: When he turned the corner onto Oasis Drive East, he saw his blue Mustang. It was parked in front of his garage. Exactly as he always parked it when he was home. His mind jumped automatically toward explanation. He'd been so distracted by his work, he'd left it at home. The illogic of that was immediately apparent. How had he gotten to work then? No one else had picked him up. There was no shuttle service between Oasis Village and Palladian.

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