Rob Tin, private eye / gum shoe. Single, just turned forty and alcoholic.
The case was the strangest he had ever accepted, missing male teens and town folk.
But the bills were piling up and prospects had been dry for allmost six months so he had no choice but to accept.
It had been seven long hours of driving cross country in his beat up old Dodge, when he noticed the exit sign of Drodenberry city limits.
This was the place the lady had prepaid and begged him to come to.
A somewhat small town remotely burried in deep hills and shrouding trees.
Rob turned off of the highway and headed down a long winding road that took him into town.
Thus far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for two dark green Army passenger busses followed by a black cargo van that passed him at the turn off.
Rob gripped the wheel tightly, fighting off his urge for a drink as he passed by the town bar, an allmost saloon looking place.