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or at least yours to use for as long as you stay here.” The woman pointed to the ignition switch. “Key goes here. Before you turn it, pull the throttle on the left side of the dashboard halfway out. Then pump your toe on the gas pedal three times before turning the key. That’s the only way this thing will start.”

Gina searched for something to pull. The interior was clean, but old and basic. Instead of buttons and touchscreens in modern cars, there were knobs to turn and levers that needed to be pushed back and forth. There was a vacancy in the dashboard where a radio must’ve been in years past. “Throttle?”

“Old kind Japanese cars had throttles, including this Datsun. Once the engine starts, push the throttle back in. Otherwise, you won’t go anywhere, and waste a lot of gas not getting there.”

Gina followed the sequence and got the truck started. “What’s a Datsun?”

Millie reached across and pushed in the throttle knob. “You’ve never heard of Datsun?”

Gina shook her head. Now she needed to deal with a stick shift, something she knew how to drive, but preferred automatics like every other sensible person. “It sounds Japanese?”

“Datsun became known as Nissan in the Eighties.”

“Before I was born, I guess,” Gina said. She carefully backed up in an arc, then after struggling to find first gear, she drove toward the little bridge. Basically, the thing had four tires, a steering wheel, and a gas pedal, which qualified it as a vehicle. “Why are you giving me this?”

“You’ll need something for errands, to go to garden nurseries, take things to the transfer station. We had this thing parked in a shed, so we got it tuned up and washed off. It’s ugly, but it runs okay.” They got to the street outside and Millie pointed to the left, toward town. “Go down there and turn right on Dole Street.”

Driving a strange car that belonged to someone else, Gina drove slowly and carefully.

“Sometimes we’re in a hurry, Gina, especially on busy streets when there’s no one in front of us.”

Gina gave it a little more gas, and the pickup’s little engine eventually responded. Nothing looked even vaguely familiar about the street. “Where are we going?”

“To a restaurant.” Millie pointed for Gina to turn left onto another busy street.

“Which direction am I going?” Gina asked.

“Just keep going makai down this street.”

“Okay. Makai?”

“Toward the ocean. Mauka is toward the mountains.” When they stopped at a red light, she pointed to a building. “This is the Japanese Cultural Center.”

Gina gave it a good look. “I’ve heard about it.”

“Maybe you can visit there on a day off sometime.”

After a few more blocks, there was another right turn, followed by a left, then crossed a bridge over a wide canal, and followed by another quick left turn. That put them on a broad boulevard through a classy part of town, with a large park with pampered green lawns and swaying palm trees, hotels and apartment buildings, and convenience stores. It also left Gina disoriented.

She also wanted to be home to think about what the detective said to her about being on his suspect list. ‘Suspect list for what?’ had consumed her thoughts ever since he’d said it. Something didn’t make sense about the dead man. A lot of things, in fact. But here she was, entertaining her boss with a drive through town.

“I have absolutely no idea where I am.”

“We’re on Kalakaua Avenue in Waikiki.”

“This is Waikiki? I thought there was a beach here?”

“There is.” Millie pointed. “Just over there. Can’t see it right now because the buildings are in the way.”

With the window down, Gina was picking up a scent. The only time she’d ever smelled the ocean before was on a trip to New York City. What she smelled today was similar but somehow different. They were getting to a busy commercial area, with high-end shops for clothes, jewelry, even luxury automobiles. Sidewalks were filled with people going in every direction, some carrying shopping bags, others holding hands.

“Wow. I didn’t know it was like this here. Do you live in this part of town?”

“Not many local people can afford this part of town. The real estate is even more expensive than it looks.”

“Too rich for my blood, or any Santoro blood. It looks like most people live in condos here?”

Millie nodded. “If someone has an ocean view, the price is twice that of a mountains view. And if the view is unobstructed by other buildings, the price doubles again. Funny thing about Waikiki that even after World War Two, most of this was still rice paddies.”

After a couple of minutes, they were driving alongside a palm-lined beach. She could hear the waves break on the sand, but couldn’t quite see them as she drove. There were as many people walking on the beach as on the sidewalk, some still in bikinis and swimsuits.

“When does it get cold here?” Gina finally asked, hardly believing it was still December.

“Cold? So far, this is the coldest day of the year. We’re going to turn left at the next big intersection. The place we’re going to will be on the right after a couple of blocks.”

Gina followed her directions, made the turn, and parked in the lot where Millie pointed her. They’d left the luxury area behind when they made the turn, and were now in an ordinary commercial district, even though they’d barely gone a half mile. It was an older building, not glitzy at all, but had a fresh coat of paint on the outside. She tried making sense of the sign over the door.

“Mahalo Kaitenzushi,” she said slowly as she read it a second time. “What’s that?”

“A sushi bar. It’s fun. You’ll like it.”

What Gina didn’t need right then was something else new to try. She tried locking the doors of the pickup, but turning the key in the lock only made the tumblers spin, accomplishing nothing.

“Don’t bother with the locks. Those haven’t work in years and

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