On a warm evening a few weeks ago my partner and I were sitting in an unmarked car along Highway 99 near Seatac. From our vantage point we watched several young women walking the sidewalk, waving at passing cars and occasionally hopping in next to a male driver.
By all accounts, the sex trade on Highway 99 continues in much the same way since the Green River Killer stalked the strip’s most vulnerable prostitutes 25 years ago. With one exception.
Milling around the entrance to a fast food restaurant across the street were more than a dozen young men wearing …