The Rollins brothers owed Mr. Trazelli a lot. He had seen their potential at a young age when they tried to rob him. He caught them, had them beat up, and brought to him. With very little persuasion, he convinced them that working for him would clear up their little misunderstanding and give them the lifestyle they always wanted.

They felt like indentured servants now. They had paid their debt a thousand times over and still he called on them for “favors”. They usually didn’t really like the “jobs” they had to do. But it kept them able to do what they loved; build and race dragsters.

They sat cooped up in the back of a service van that read Pachyderm Plumbing, We Work for Peanuts! They played poker and chewed tobacco until the streets quieted. Their phone rang.

“Trial went south. Make it quick, noiseless, and don’t leave a trail. The police will be all over it, trying to link it to me and this custody case. I’ve got to come out smelling like roses. Got it?”

“Yeah, we got it. She’ll disappear.”

“Good.”