Read Online Paper Daughter by Jeanette Ingold - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jeanette Ingold
Ads: Link
investigation has gone inactive."
Someone muttered, "Talk about non-news."
Fran said, "There's nothing special about the victim?"
"
Nada.
"Glancing at a pocket-size notebook much like those my dad had used, Gary said, "Name was Donald Landin, a mid-level city employee in one of the Eastside towns. Got killed right outside the apartment house where he lived."
"Give me a paragraph or two, but keep it short," Fran told him.
Moving on to Lynch, she asked what Photography had to offer.
Harrison, the reporter Jillian and I had met on our first day, interrupted. "Wait a sec. Maitlen, exactly when did that shooting occur?"
Gary consulted his notes again. "Friday, May twenty-third."
I gave an involuntary start, and Fran asked, "Maggie, do you have something to add?"
I shook my head. "The date just reminded me of something personal," I answered, without explaining that it was when Dad died coming home from the airport.
Fran's attention switched back to Harrison, who was thumbing through his notebook.
"I thought so!" he said. "That was the day I had an appointment to meet someone who claimed to know about illegalities where he worked. When nobody showed, I figured the call was a prank."
"And...?"
"The name the caller gave was Dan Lind, which is pretty close to Donald Landin. And he specifically mentioned the Eastside. Maybe they're the same person, and he really did know something but got caught up in the street thing before he could tell me about it."
Fran looked dubious. "I think you're reaching."
"But I might not be," Harrison argued. "I could make a quick visit to where this Donald Landin worked. Nose around some. I've got time this afternoon."
Fran tapped her pencil. "All right. I guess it can't hurt."
"Mind if I take along one of the interns?"
Fran looked surprised, but then her puzzlement cleared. "Cover? Okay by me. You game, Maggie?"
"Sure," I said quickly, hardly believing my good fortune. Was I actually being sent out on a realâor possibly realâstory?
Jillian leaned forward, and I braced myself. If she tried to grab this assignment, I was going to grab back.
But she didn't say anything, and Fran, with a nod, moved on.
CHAPTER 9
"So," I said to Harrison as we drove out of the parking lot, "what did Fran mean about
cover?
"
"You'll see," he said, turning on music full blast and heading for the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge across Lake Washington, out of Seattle and to the towns to the east. Then, relenting, he turned the music off. "You're going to be my excuse to look around," he said.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Appear eager. And keep your eyes and ears open. We might not find a story, but fishing expeditions are part of the job. The most interesting part, sometimes."
"I know," I said. "That's what my dadâ"
He prompted, "Your dad?"
"He was a reporter," I said. "And I was just remembering how he used to say pretty much the same thing. That part of what keeps a newsman going are the possibilities."
Harrison chuckled. "I've never heard it put that way, but it's true. Only you said
was.
What's he doing now?"
"He died recently. But before that, he covered business news forâ"
Harrison interrupted. "Maggie
Chen!
Of course! Steven Chen was your father? I've read enough of his work to know how good he was."
He was silent a moment and then said rather awkwardly, "I read about the accident. I'm sorry. I guess he'd have been pretty proud of you doing this internship."
"I don't think he'd have been all that proud last week," I said. "Not at the beginning, anyway. I got off to a pretty rocky start."
Harrison grinned. "My first morning in a newsroomâthis was back in the dayâI erased an editor's hard drive. Did you do anything that egregious?"
"I got coffee grounds on the Sports mannequin."
"Not even in the same league."
***
The city hall where Donald Landin had worked was a new-looking, well-landscaped building. Before leaving the
Herald,
Harrison had gotten Gary
Someone muttered, "Talk about non-news."
Fran said, "There's nothing special about the victim?"
"
Nada.
"Glancing at a pocket-size notebook much like those my dad had used, Gary said, "Name was Donald Landin, a mid-level city employee in one of the Eastside towns. Got killed right outside the apartment house where he lived."
"Give me a paragraph or two, but keep it short," Fran told him.
Moving on to Lynch, she asked what Photography had to offer.
Harrison, the reporter Jillian and I had met on our first day, interrupted. "Wait a sec. Maitlen, exactly when did that shooting occur?"
Gary consulted his notes again. "Friday, May twenty-third."
I gave an involuntary start, and Fran asked, "Maggie, do you have something to add?"
I shook my head. "The date just reminded me of something personal," I answered, without explaining that it was when Dad died coming home from the airport.
Fran's attention switched back to Harrison, who was thumbing through his notebook.
"I thought so!" he said. "That was the day I had an appointment to meet someone who claimed to know about illegalities where he worked. When nobody showed, I figured the call was a prank."
"And...?"
"The name the caller gave was Dan Lind, which is pretty close to Donald Landin. And he specifically mentioned the Eastside. Maybe they're the same person, and he really did know something but got caught up in the street thing before he could tell me about it."
Fran looked dubious. "I think you're reaching."
"But I might not be," Harrison argued. "I could make a quick visit to where this Donald Landin worked. Nose around some. I've got time this afternoon."
Fran tapped her pencil. "All right. I guess it can't hurt."
"Mind if I take along one of the interns?"
Fran looked surprised, but then her puzzlement cleared. "Cover? Okay by me. You game, Maggie?"
"Sure," I said quickly, hardly believing my good fortune. Was I actually being sent out on a realâor possibly realâstory?
Jillian leaned forward, and I braced myself. If she tried to grab this assignment, I was going to grab back.
But she didn't say anything, and Fran, with a nod, moved on.
CHAPTER 9
"So," I said to Harrison as we drove out of the parking lot, "what did Fran mean about
cover?
"
"You'll see," he said, turning on music full blast and heading for the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge across Lake Washington, out of Seattle and to the towns to the east. Then, relenting, he turned the music off. "You're going to be my excuse to look around," he said.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Appear eager. And keep your eyes and ears open. We might not find a story, but fishing expeditions are part of the job. The most interesting part, sometimes."
"I know," I said. "That's what my dadâ"
He prompted, "Your dad?"
"He was a reporter," I said. "And I was just remembering how he used to say pretty much the same thing. That part of what keeps a newsman going are the possibilities."
Harrison chuckled. "I've never heard it put that way, but it's true. Only you said
was.
What's he doing now?"
"He died recently. But before that, he covered business news forâ"
Harrison interrupted. "Maggie
Chen!
Of course! Steven Chen was your father? I've read enough of his work to know how good he was."
He was silent a moment and then said rather awkwardly, "I read about the accident. I'm sorry. I guess he'd have been pretty proud of you doing this internship."
"I don't think he'd have been all that proud last week," I said. "Not at the beginning, anyway. I got off to a pretty rocky start."
Harrison grinned. "My first morning in a newsroomâthis was back in the dayâI erased an editor's hard drive. Did you do anything that egregious?"
"I got coffee grounds on the Sports mannequin."
"Not even in the same league."
***
The city hall where Donald Landin had worked was a new-looking, well-landscaped building. Before leaving the
Herald,
Harrison had gotten Gary
Similar Books
