The woman was standing under the streetlight on South Halsted Street, and Frank Callahan knew immedi
The woman was standing under the streetlight on South Halsted Street, and Frank Callahan knew immediately that something was wrong. Not because of the two men following her—though that was enough—but because of the way she stood. Not running. Not crying. Just standing, like a statue in the rain, waiting for something to happen. Frank was thirty-five, a former boxer whose career had ended not...
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