Outside the Bidwell Exchange, Chiarra pirouetted, sending the hem of her short dress flying above the curves of her lithe, supple thighs.
Martha smiled as she watched the girl, turned to glance over at the corner of Chicago and Evans as a flash of light caught her eye.
There was a man there taking pictures; only his smile was wrong. She felt her stomach tighten and her fists clench as adrenaline coursed through her body; she’d heard about him, knew the trailer park where he lived. The boys would pay him a visit that night.
He would disappear before dawn.