The Runaway Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page B

room. We’ll bring back something for everyone to eat before the broadcast starts, too.”
    Oscar nodded absently. Pointing across the room, he explained, “Behind that curtain is the window to the broadcasting booth. There are four rooms just like this one, for performers, surrounding the booth. Right now, they’re wrapping up a comedy show in room three. News will happen in two after that, and we’ll follow them from this room. This is room one. Room four is for sport and political interviews. We rotate shows all day long.”
    Brock was listening, but his gaze was fixed on the door Ginger was following Rene through.
    “They’ll be fine,” Oscar said, and then continued on with a thorough explanation of the station.
    They ended up in the front office with Oscar searching Rene’s desk for the night’s program sheet. Brock was once again drawn to the phone. It would take a wad of money, but he had to let Roger know Ginger would soon be on her way home. “Oscar,” he said, his mind made up. “Could I make a phone call?”
    “Sure.”
    “It’s long-distance, to Minnesota.”
    Oscar whistled. “Rene will have to take it out of your wages, once the bill arrives.”
    “All right.” Brock stuffed his hands in his pockets, wondering how to ask for a bit of privacy.
    “Just pick up the receiver,” Oscar said. “An operator will come on. Tell her where you want to call.”
    Brock still hesitated, even though he wanted the call over with before Ginger returned.
    The door opened and a man stuck his head into the room. “Oscar, we need in you in the booth for a few minutes.”
    “Coming.” Oscar pointed to the telephone. “Go ahead and make your call. I’ll be back shortly.”
    As soon as the man stepped out of the door, Brock grabbed the earpiece from its holder with one hand and picked up the candlestick base to talk into the speaker with the other. An operator came on. He asked for the Nightingale resort in Minnesota. She told him to hold.
    A moment later ringing echoed down the line, and then a voice said, “Nightingale’s.”
    “Is Roger Nightingale there?”
    “Yes, he is, but he can’t talk right now.”
    Brock recognized Norma Rose’s voice. It was odd, knowing she was miles away, yet he could still hear her as plain as day. “Norma Rose, this is Brock Ness.”
    “Oh, Brock,” she said. “I’m sorry, but Daddy is out talking with the sheriff. Ginger ran away last and we can’t find her anywhere.”
    “I know,” he answered. “She stowed away in the back of my truck.”
    “What? She’s with you? In Chicago? Is she all right?”
    “She’s fine,” he answered. “I’ll—”
    “Where are you? I’ll have Daddy call you right away.”
    Brock gave her the station name and set the phone down, hooking the hearing piece on the side handle. Then he started pacing, hoping Roger would call back before Oscar appeared. Or Ginger. He would put her on the first train after midnight and tomorrow explain to Oscar and Rene that she’d had to go home. That should work and he wouldn’t have to explain that they weren’t married.
    A chill sliced his spine. If Nightingale heard they were pretending to be married—
    The phone rang and he grabbed it.
    “Is it true?” Roger’s voice blared through the line. “My Ginger’s with you?”
    “Yes, sir,” Brock answered. Few men scared him, but Roger Nightingale frightened gangsters. “She’s fine,” he went on to say. “I didn’t discover her in the back of my truck until I was almost in Chicago. I couldn’t turn around—”
    “Damn it,” Roger interrupted. “That girl is so like her mother was, God rest her soul.” He let out a string of curse words.
    “I’ll put her on the first train to Minnesota, right af—”
    “Like hell you will,” Roger shouted. “You put her on a train by herself and she’ll end up in California.”
    Brock couldn’t deny that. Everyone knew Ginger wanted to go to Hollywood.
    “You don’t let her out of your