I wrote last week about a spate new lawsuits seeking to hold hotel chains liable for sex trafficking on their premises.

But I didn't realize that a trial was actually underway in Massachusetts federal court—the culmination of a four-year pro bono effort by Wilmer Cutler Pickering Hale and Dorr on behalf of trafficking victim Lisa Ricchio against the Shangri-La Motel in Seekonk, Massachusetts.

According to the firm, it was the first case to use the Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Act to go after a hotel. 

After opening arguments and one day of powerful testimony from Ricchio, the case settled on what Wilmer partner Cynthia Vreeland said were favorable terms to her client. (The actual amount is confidential.) The parties submitted the stipulation of dismissal on Friday.

"The litigator in all of us is a little disappointed" not to try the case to verdict, Vreeland said. "But there couldn't have been a better outcome for our client."

On the stand, Ricchio told a devastating tale. She met Clark McLean (though he told her his name was Adrian Hobbs) in late 2010 or early 2011 when she was in her 20s and living in Maine. He told her he was a lawyer and owned a lobstering business. "We just really had a connection," she said. They began dating. 

He lured her to Massachusetts by telling her he was in the hospital. "I really trusted Mr. McLean, and like I said no, I had no reason to not believe that to be the truth," Ricchio said.

Once she got to Massachusetts, McLean took her to the Shangri-La motel. In the room, he took her phone and her i.d., started "calling me names and screaming at me like 'bitch,' 'whore,' that kind of thing," she said, according to a trial transcript. "I was just terrified. I just wanted to go home really. I ended up just begging him, I was crying and shaking, and I just begged him to please let me go home… he was just very aggressive and violent with me, and he did rape me."

When he fell asleep, she snuck out the door and encountered a motel staff member, Sima Patel.

"I kind of reached out to her as I was hysterically saying like I didn't know where I was and begging for her to help me, saying that I was being held against my will, and Ms. Patel then … took her hand and brushed my hand away where I had kind of like reached out for her and actually started smiling and almost like she was like laughing at me in my face."

A moment later, Ricchio said, McLean appeared and "grabbed me and threw me on the ground right in front of Ms. Patel and repeatedly kicked me and punched me in the head."

Another time, Ricchio reported seeing "McLean and Mr. Patel, they actually, they exchanged like high fives, and Mr. McLean said to Mr. Patel, 'Let's get this thing going again. Let's make some money.'"

After several days of captivity, Ricchio managed to escape. (McLean was subsequently convicted of four counts of indecent assault and battery and sentenced to two years behind bars.)

Before Ricchio could finish testifying on the second day of trial, the case settled.

Along the way, the case established some key precedents. The Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Act allows victims to bring civil actions against anyone who "knowingly benefits, financially or by receiving anything of value from participation in a venture which that person knew or should have known has engaged in an act in violation of this chapter" of the law.

But what does it mean to knowingly benefit? Did the motel owner have to be part of the trafficking operation? Or was it enough to just be paid the room fee?

The district court judge originally dismissed the case for failure to state a claim—a ruling which Vreeland said was initially disappointing. But the judge was reversed on appeal, resulting in what Vreeland termed a "wonderful" decision from the First Circuit penned by retired Supreme Court Justice David Souter, sitting by designation.

In addition, the motel's insurer tried to dodge coverage, but was rebuffed by the district court. 

Vreeland praised her client's strength and bravery, and said the court experience was ultimately empowering for Ricchio, who did not want to proceed as a Jane Doe. "She told her story, and she was believed."