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Everything isn't what it seems in the wonderful suburb of Grandville. ALL THE DIFFERENCE is the story of three women whose lives become entangled by the choices they make and how, ultimately, one of them turns to murder to achieve her goals.
Roommates Laura and Angie couldn't be more different. Laura is a local celebrity, the television anchor who is motivated to move out of small-time media markets and on to the big time, no matter the cost. Meanwhile, Angie, a luckless waitress, spends her time waiting for Mr. Right to save her from temporary jobs and a life spent making bad choices.
On the other side of town, Ellen abandons her life as a successful fundraiser for that of an isolated housewife in the country estate she shares with her husband, whose affairs become increasingly hard to ignore. When the city’s gossip columnist, Maddie, and restaurant reviewer, Dixon, become involved in the mystery, the unlikely duo stir up more than they intended. But will anyone be able to stop the next murder?
With her signature compassion and wit, Kaira Rouda once again takes readers on an entertaining journey into the heart of women’s lives in suburbia - this time with adultry and murder in the mix.
CHAPTER
1
Friday,
May 23
Tossing
the script onto her desk, Dave told Laura, “Here, read this,” as
he sped past. “The teleprompter is set, Sunshine. We go live in
two.”
“Thanks,
Dave,” Laura said, not adding “you jerk,” although she wanted
to. She hated Dave Robinson, producer for WCOL-TV5, and didn’t care
that the feeling was mutual. Laura Mercer didn’t care about much
except ratings, beating the local competition to a story, and looking
like big-city-market material. Laura knew she was the latter. She
looked like the girl next door and sexy at the same time. That’s
what her adoring fans kept writing since she had leapt onto the
screen in Columbus four years earlier. She was promoted from reporter
to anchor of the noon and early evening news two years later. Already
her name was a household word. Especially in households with male
viewers.
Laura
knew she was considered a draw at charity events. She agreed to
lunches with local power brokers and marketing folks. Accessible,
beautiful. And she was always perfecting her presence. Changing the
tone of her voice, practicing inflections, tilting her head just a
little farther left, or simply picking up a new adjective to drop
into idle anchor babble. Laura was learning, absorbing, and mimicking
everyone at the station. When the general manager asked her to do the
news bulletin cut-in, she felt it was her big chance. Maybe this
could lead to a network feed or even CNN Headline News pickup?
Eschewing
a read-through for further primping time, Laura arrived in the studio
with twenty-two seconds to spare, Dave’s script in hand. Clipping
on her microphone, she smiled at the cameraman, Rob. Soon, the
cameras would be automated robots, but until then, she needed Rob to
like her. Glancing up at the booth where Dave sat hunched over the
control panel, Laura sneered—but it could have just been a squint
because of the lights.
“Ready
and three, two, one, music…”
“We
interrupt our regular programming to bring you a special news
bulletin from WCOL-TV5,” the station announcer’s voice boomed.
Suddenly,
Laura’s face popped into the middle of one of the station’s
highest-rated shows, prompting hundreds of calls from angry show
addicts. Laura’s hair was perfect—she was the brunette Breck
girl. Her squeaky-clean image had boosted the number-three station in
town to a tie with the perennial number-one. The soft orange and
yellow backdrop complemented her skin tones. Set approval was part of
her contract by now, and she exercised it.
“This
is Laura Mercer, News Channel 5, with a special bulletin,” she read
from the teleprompter. “An hour ago, an explosion from unidentified
causes ripped through a large home in Field City, five miles
northwest of Grandville. Sources on the scene tell News 5 the two
adult victims were airlifted to an area hospital in critical
condition. We will have more about this story as information becomes
available, and, of course, tonight on the eleven o’clock news. This
is Laura Mercer. We now return to regular programming.”
“And,
we’re out. Nice job, people.” Dave’s voice boomed from the
control booth above the studio. Hoping to cover the story first, and
thus smack an early, crippling home run useful for self-promotion for
months to follow, he had obviously decided to break into programming
with a news bulletin containing little news. It was May, sweeps week,
a critical time to lure viewers to the station. It wouldn’t matter
to him how stupid Laura would look, interrupting a program to give no
news.
“Goddamn
it! Heads are going to roll for this one,” Laura screamed after
she’d removed her microphone. She held her breath then, waiting
until Rob sauntered out of the studio. She needed him on her side
until the studio was automated. The camera equaled power, since his
choice of angles and camera position could make the difference
between her nose seeming prominent or ugly. Someday she’d have the
money to fix those faults, but not yet.
“Is
it too much to ask to have a few facts before we jump on the air?”
she yelled to Dave, her invisible producer above. “I know this is
TV news, but facts, some facts, are important!” Feeling better
after the tirade, she walked out of the studio, back to her desk.
Over
the speaker, Dave said, “Have a nice day, Sunshine.” Sunshine was
the nickname he had given her two years ago when she arrived to save
their sagging news ratings, fresh from a Dayton Fox affiliate. At
first, he had seemed to like her. Six months later, he began
complaining that “Sunshine” was raining on his parade.
The
public loved her. Laura knew most of the staff at the station hated
her as much as Dave did, but the station owners—the only people who
mattered in the end—decided she was their “it” girl. Her ticket
was written. She was biding her time until an anchor spot opened up
in a bigger market at a sister station. Her departure could not come
soon enough for Dave or the rest of the staff, Laura knew.
Once
back at her desk in the center of the noisy newsroom, Laura thought,
Today was intriguing. For once, the news registered. She’d
actually felt something, deep inside, almost like a stomachache, as
she read the story. It had to be his house, she thought. But
who was the woman? Even now, Laura’s heart was racing, and she
realized her fingernails were drumming the fake wood veneer of her
desk. Fortunately, no one else seemed to notice her agitation.
Turning
in her chair, Laura yelled, “Tony, call all the hospitals in town.
They airlifted the victims, so they’re probably at Grant or
University. I want the names of both people injured in that
explosion, and I want their status. Now, Tony, move!” Laura knew
the stone-faced assignment editor couldn’t tell the orders were a
personal request; she always treated him in the same demoralizing
manner. Consistency is key, she thought to herself as she
watched him fumble with the computer keyboard at his desk.
For
a moment Laura wondered whether anybody at the station would connect
her to the explosion. No, she’d been discreet.
“Hey,
Mike, is Headline News interested in a feed?” she called out to
another editor, before jumping out of her chair to hover over his
desk. This could be big.
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