My Ghost Town

Since our paycheck left, my family also left Hidden Valley, along with the rest of the refugees, and I finished high school in another town. I graduated from high school, with a degree in minimum wage. At least minimum wage is the only kind of job that I could get with my crummy high school degree.
Fortunately I had an after school job. I was a self employed car thief. I would get a list of cars that the bank or finance company wanted back, due to a failure of the debtor to pay the contract monthly payment. I would then acquire a car, on the list and turn the car into an impound lot, earning a fee from the impound lot. I was really good at the car thief thing, in large part, due to some (ahem) clever electronic devices that I had invented and built, outside of school.
I would roam the streets and alleyways of a big city, find a car that was on the lender’s hot sheet, enter the car, start it and drive to an impound lot. I would get the car checked in at the repo lot and I had earned myself another repo fee.
“But wait,” you ask, “What happens if the debtor notices you taking its car?” When I’m at work, I always wear a jacket, regardless of the air temperature. Down one side of the jacket, I carry a .357 magnum pistol. Down the other side of the jacket, I carry a Bowie knife. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for I’m the baddest mofo in the valley.” Some of the more aggressive debtors found out, for sure, that I’m, the baddest mofo in the valley.
One night, I find a car that’s on a lender’s hot sheet. I start my night off, by obtaining the car. I no sooner get the car started, using one of my electronic devices, than some, probably criminal, starts chasing me, on foot. I use the horsepower and careen around a few corners. As I careen around the corners, something slides out, from under the seat. First, I make sure that I have really lost my pursuer, then I get to a safe spot, that I sometimes use. I use a penlight to examine the something that slid out, from under the seat. The something turns out to be an old, but still deadly, Army .45 pistol, in a holster. I then carefully examine the rest of the car. The interior yields a few dollars in toll change and some top of the line condoms. The trunk yields three duffel bags. The duffel bags are held shut by a key padlock. The key padlocks yield, to my magic electronic key. What to my delighted eyes should appear, but bundles of neatly wrapped $100s. Given the size of the duffel bags, I have something over $3 million in cash. I also have my death warrant, if those who used the car catch me.
Since I must remain anonymous, I think to drive back to Hidden Valley and find some place to stash my new found fortune. Along the way to Hidden Valley, I spot a pickup truck that’s on the hot sheet. I drive a bit and then dump the car. I then go back and acquire the pickup truck. I drive over and transfer the valuable stuff from the car to the pickup truck. I then drive the pickup truck to Hidden Valley. I check the houses there and find that they’re all vacant, as I expected. One house is on high ground and appears to be in good shape. I use a magic key and break into the house. Miracle of miracles, the house still has electric! I open the garage, using my magic key, park the pickup in the garage and relock the garage. I dust off a cushion in the house and get what’s left of a a night’s sleep, after a long, hard working evening. In the morning, I rinse off in the shower and then air dry. As I dry, I find that there are some papers, in a kitchen drawer. I have utility bills and even a Social Security card, all in the name of John Smith!