A Trafficker’s Prey: Part One

The sex trafficker watching me thinks he is being stealthy. He is standing behind a pole outside the casino we’ve both just left. He’s wearing the typical casino-sex-trafficker outfit — expensive tennis shoes, crisp colored jeans, iron-neat T-shirt, sweatshirt over his shoulders, and a ball cap with no insignia. My day had started with a presentation... Continue Reading →

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