"Oh, sure," Kalola replied. She waved a hand to the west. "Somewhere out there beyond the hotels... if some mainland real estater hasn't drained it an... started a new sub-division. Come on. We go find Joe Moto." She led them down Lewers Street and turned on Kuhio Avenue, stopping in front of an ancient frame building with a faded sign on its porch. The sign depicted a sick-looking palm tree. Beneath this time-worn cutout could be seen the name, "Pacific Paradise Hotel." The grounds were shaded. After driving for about 10 minutes, I noticed Philip had crossed over to the West side and was driving down near the river. I was about to tell him it was dangerous to be driving on that side of town, when I felt something touch my leg. I looked down and there was Philip's hand on my knee. I shook my leg and turned to tell him I didn't want him to do that, when suddenly there was a movement behind me and two hands were holding my breasts, holding me against my seat. I opened my mouth to start. More

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