“Don’t you always wonder who lived in places like that?” Jean asked.

“Prospectors, I should think,” Pete said.

“ ‘Dead guys,’ ” Larry quoted.

“Leave it to you. The morbid touch.”

“Actually, that was Lane’s comment. ‘Dead guys.’ Remember, hon?”

“She went back to the car and waited for us that time. She wanted nothing to do with it.”

“I know the feeling,” Barbara said. “I think this stuff’s interesting, but you gotta know that whoever lived there’s been pushing up daisies for a while.”

“Cactus,” Pete said.

“Whatever. Anyway, dead. Makes it kind of spooky.”

“All the better for Larry here.”

“Doesn’t bother me,” Jean said. “I just think it’s neat to see where they used to live, and, you know, imagine what it must’ve been like. It’s history.”

“Speaking of history,” Larry said, “what do you know about this ghost town of yours?”

“Not much,” Pete told him.

“Hedoesn’t even know where it is.”

“It must be in some of those guidebooks,” Jean said.

“Nope. We checked.”

“I guess it’s nothing all that special,” Pete said. “Maybe it’s not an official ghost town, or whatever it takes to get noticed — just a wide spot in the road that got deserted.” He suddenly grinned at Larry. “Hey, suppose it’s just there for us? You know? Like a figment of our imaginations.”

“A ghostghost town.”

“Yeah! How about that? Another idea for you. You’re gonna have to start paying me a consultant’s fee.”

“You’d do better if you wrote the books yourself.”