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We drove over to the Denny’s on Kalakaua, and Dakota ordered the lumberjack slam and a strawberry banana smoothie, with side orders of pancake puppies and cheddar cheese hash browns. I remembered when I was his age I could eat massive quantities of food, and how my parents had always shaken their heads when watching me eat.
Gunter got coffee and the New York cheesecake. I ordered a piece of the caramel apple crisp and the strawberry-mango orange juice. If I had coffee that late, even decaf, I’d be up all night.
In the bright light, I saw that Dakota had a sprinkling of acne around his hair line, but the rest of his face was smooth. There was no dewy-eyed innocence to match it, though. He looked hard, and I tried to remember if he’d been that way when I first met him.
“So, Dakota,” I said. “Where are you living these days?”
“With a friend.”
“Address?”
“Why?”
“Just wondering,” I said. “I saw you this morning, out on Lagoon Drive. You didn’t stop when I called you.”
“I was in a hurry.”
“You see the fire this morning?”
He shifted uneasily in his seat. “Yeah.”
“You know anything about it?”
“Jesus, Kimo, give the kid a break,” Gunter said. “At least let him eat something before you start the inquisition.”
I looked at Gunter, and realized he was right. I sighed. “So, I understand you saw Pua and Yeet the other day. He look cute?”
Dakota smiled. “Yeah, he is. Pua couldn’t stop smiling when she was showing him off.” Then he frowned. “But she’ll probably end up a skank like my mom, and he’ll grow up to be a loser.”
“What’s up with your mom?”
The waitress delivered our beverages and Dakota took a long drink of his smoothie. “She’s in the WCCC in Kailua.”
The Women’s Community Correctional Center was the only women’s prison in Hawai’i, housing females before trial and after sentencing. “When did this happen?”
“Couple of months ago. She was dealing ice in Wahiawa and the cops picked her up. She copped a plea and got four years.”
“That’s tough,” I said. “You been out to see her?”
He shook his head. “She’s a skank, like I said.”
“Somebody must be pretty hungry,” the waitress said, approaching us with a loaded tray, most of which was for Dakota.
I gave him a chance to eat, and he wolfed down the pancakes, eggs and sausage. When he stopped to take a breath, I said, “What happened to you when they took your mom in?”
“Foster home. This asshole kid kept picking on me so I left.”
I nodded. “It’s tough to find the right place.”
He looked up at me. “I didn’t have anything to do with that fire.”
“I didn’t think you did,” I said. “But if you were around, maybe you saw something.”
He finished the last of his hash browns. “You’re a real member of the clean plate club,” Gunter said. “You want dessert? This pie is choice.”
I waved the waitress over. “He wants a piece of pie, and a slice of chocolate cake, too,” I said.
“Ala mode?” he asked.
“Hey, go for it.”
When the waitress was gone, he said, “It was like ten o’clock last night. I was on my way to the bus, walking past that warehouse. This big black limo pulled up, fast.”
“You know what kind of car?”
He shook his head. “Just big and black. Fancy. I stepped back into the shadows because I didn’t want anyone to see me.”
“Who was in the limo?”
“The driver got out first. Big dude, like a bodybuilder or something. Then another big dude got out of the front seat. Two old people in the back—a man and a woman.”
The waitress returned with Dakota’s desserts. “Go on,” I said, when she was gone.
He shrugged. “That’s all I saw. They walked into the warehouse, and I kept going.”
“You say this was about ten o’clock?”
“Yeah.”
He chowed down, and I sat back in my seat. What had happened to the old woman? Could it be that we’d missed another set of remains in the fire?
Dakota finished eating. “I have to pee,” he said.
“I’ll come with you.” I started to get up.
“I can pee by myself,” Dakota said. “Ever since I was about two or three.”
“Let him go, Kimo,” Gunter said. “You gotta learn to trust people.”
“When you come back, you want to come up and stay at my house for a few days?” I asked Dakota. “Get you fed, maybe enrolled back in school, see what we can do for you.”
“Whatever.” He stood up and walked toward the back of the restaurant.
“He’s not a criminal,” Gunter said. “You shouldn’t treat him like one.”
“He’s a teenager,” I said. “You remember what you were like at that age? It’s called tough love.”
“Right.”
I signaled for the waitress and got the check. “He’s taking a long time to pee,” I said to Gunter.
“Shit, I forgot. There’s a back door by the men’s room.”
“I don’t even want to know how you know that,” I said, jumping up. I rushed back to the men’s room, pushing the door open. It was empty, and the back door was ajar.
Well, at least I fed him, I thought.