Free Reilly 02 - Invasion of Privacy by Perri O'Shaughnessy

restaurant signs.
    He’d taken the bus back to Monterey, and found a public phone on a busy street near the waterfront. Because there was no listing for a Kurt Scott in the phone book, he’d spent an hour and several dollars in change phoning any Scotts that looked promising.
    He didn’t know what he’d say if he had found his father anyway.
    Still, he didn’t feel ready to give up, so instead of calling his grandfather in Monterey, he prepared to spend the night somewhere. He tried the post office, but a bum had already staked out that territory. He had lunged at Bob, laughing at his fear. Bob didn’t think it was funny at all.
    At the end of the wharf, about ready to fall over from sleepiness, he stepped down some ramshackle stairs off the main pier, to a landing that smelled like old fish, only a foot or so above the water. Some rusty sinks stood near him, but he found a spot that was only slightly damp. He slipped into his sleeping bag, put his other stuff in there with him, and curled up.
    Through the fence slats the ocean floated in the fog. His wooden floor creaked and swayed. Warm and comfortable, the watery scenery obliterated by fog, he swayed with the waves, cradled by the ocean.
    "Kurt Geoffrey Scott," he said to himself. Before long, he fell asleep.
    Late in the night, he woke up.
    He saw a face in the fog.
    It was looking curiously at him, a face that seemed to roll back into the mist without any shoulders. And its nose was black, with a whiskered smile below, chinless, and its black eyes were not human eyes.
    Bob sat up too quickly, thumping his head against the rail, and the seal jerked his head back, remaining a few feet away on the landing. Now Bob could see where its flippers made puddles on the deck.
    Neither moved for a while. The harbor seal seemed to be trying to decide whether to slide back off the deck into the ocean. Bob was wondering if he should jiggle up and down and holler, chasing the seal off. He must look like a seal himself, in his long black sleeping bag. The animal twitched his nose, but made no other move.
    Bob wasn’t afraid. He had never heard of a seal biting anyone, though if it rolled over on him it would certainly hurt. He felt like he was the one out of place. He was sleeping in the seal’s spot.
    The mists drifted overhead; the deck moved. Green water lapped at the pilings.
    The seal began backing up, using its flippers to push itself Leaving a wet trail, it retreated to the far edge of the deck. Its mouth opened in a huge yawn. It sighed just like a human, put its head down, and rolled over, so Bob could see only its roly-poly, long gray back.
    Bob joined it in another yawn, pulling the edge of the bag over his head, lodging himself a little farther into his cubbyhole, and fell back to sleep.

6
    SITTING IN HER CAR AT TERRY’S GATE THE DAY AFTER Bobby disappeared, Nina put the heel of her hand on the horn and let it stay there.
    Terry threw open the door of the house at the top of the hill and stood on the porch, her hair flying out from her head like something alive in the wild March wind. She’d thrown the lynx coat on. "Wha t do you want?" she called.
    "Come on down here and I’ll tell you."
    Terry picked her way down. Already taller than Nina, she looked larger than usual in her baggy clothing, with the effect of an animal bunching up its fur to look menacing to an enemy. When she got to the gate, she stood there, arms folded, and said, "So?"
    "Just returning the visit."
    A small smile curled around Terry’s lips. "I don’t know what you mean."
    "I want to talk to you."
    "I’m busy."
    "If you don’t let me in, I’m going to talk to the police. They’ll get a search warrant. You broke into my house. And my son’s missing. I’m not here to play around."
    Terry looked surprised, but Nina didn’t know whether or not to credit the raised eyebrows or slightly open mouth. "Have it your way," she said.
    Once again she opened the gate and Nina followed her up the