The policeman nodded, projecting patience. "Miss --"
"See?" she pointed. He glanced back at the pier. "He didn't come back up --"
He held up a hand. "A college-age kid? About my height, thin as a lightpost?"
"Well, yes ..." The usual double-take. "Oh, my. Officer. He wasn't one of those ... shifters, was he?"
"You must be visiting here. They call him the Pier 3 Dolphin Boy. He's made such a spectacle the pier's shopkeepers cracked down, but even the fences haven't stopped him."
"Oh." Nervous laugh. "Sorry to waste your time."
The officer shrugged. "If you see him again, let us know. At this point there are liability issues, trespassing ... Honestly, I’m kind of sorry we're going to have to stop him. I've seen the pictures -- he looks so happy in midair, his long blond hair streaming out behind him ..."
He smiled, but it didn't ease her sudden look.
"His hair was short. Definitely short. It looked brown."
"Are you sure?" he began, glancing -- catching pale in the pier's shadows -- swiveling his head.
"Shit." He ran to the beach, peeling his shirt.