“I can have a fire if I want?” Mavis ran a possessive hand over the rich lapis lazuli of the hearth.
“Sure, but it is nearly June.”
“I don’t care if I roast.” Arms out, she took long swinging steps over the floor, gazed up through the sky dome, and plopped down on the lake-sized bed with its thick silver cushions. “I feel like a queen. No, no, an empress.” She rolled over and over while the floating mattress undulated beneath her. “How do you stay normal in a place like this?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t lived here very long.”
Still rolling lavishly from one side of the air cushions to the other, Mavis laughed. “It would only take me one night. I’m never going to be the same.” Scooting up to the padded headboard, she punched buttons. Lights flickered on and off, revolved, sparkled. Music throbbed, pulsed. Water began to run in the next room.
“What’s that?”
“You programmed your bath,” Eve informed her.
“Oops. Not yet.” Mavis flicked it off, tried another, and had the panel on the far wall sliding open to reveal a ten-foot video screen. “Definitely decent. Wanna eat?”
While Eve settled in the dining room with Mavis, enjoying her first full evening off in weeks, Nadine Furst scowled over the editing of her next broadcast.
“I want to enhance that, freeze on Dallas,” she ordered the tech. “Yeah, yeah, bring her up. She looks damn good on camera.”
Sitting back, she studied the five screens while the tech worked the panel. Editing Room One was quiet, but for the murmuring clash of voices from the screen. For Nadine, putting images together seamlessly was as exciting as sex. The majority of broadcasters left the process to their techs, but Nadine wanted her hand in here. Everywhere.
In the newsroom one level down, it would be bedlam. She enjoyed that, too. The scurry to beat the competition to the latest sound bite, the
latest picture, the most immediate angle. Reporters manning their ’links for one more quote, bumping their computers for that last bit of data.
The competition wasn’t all outside on Broadcast Avenue. There was plenty of it right in the Channel 75 newsroom.
Everybody wanted the big story, the big picture, the big ratings. Right now, she had it all. And Nadine didn’t intend to lose it.
“There, hold it there, when I’m standing on Metcalf’s patio. Yeah, now try a split screen, use the shot of me on the sidewalk where Towers bought it. Um-hmm.” Eyes narrowed, she studied the image. She looked good, she decided. Dignified, sober-eyed. Our intrepid, clear-sighted reporter, revisiting the scenes of the crimes.
“Okay.” She folded her hands and rested her chin on them. “Cue in the voice-over.”
Two women, talented, dedicated, innocent. Two lives brutally ended. The city reels, looks over its shoulder, and asks why. Loving families mourn, bury their dead, and ask for justice. There is one person working to answer that question, to meet that demand.
“Freeze,” Nadine ordered, “Bleed to Dallas, exterior courtroom shot. Bring up audio.”
Eve’s image filled the screens, full length, with Nadine beside her. That was good, Nadine, thought. The visual lent the impression they were a team, working together. Couldn’t hurt. There had been the faintest of breezes, ruffling their hair. Behind them, the courthouse speared up, a monument to justice, its elevators busily gliding up and down, its glass walkway crowded with people.
My job is to find a killer, and I take my job seriously. When I finish mine, the courts begin theirs.
“Perfect.” Nadine fisted her hand. “Oh yes, just perfect. Fade it there, and I’ll pick it up on live. Time?”
“Three forty-five.”
“Louise, I’m a genius, and you’re not so bad yourself. Print it.”
“Printed.” Louise swiveled away from the console and stretched. They’d worked together for three years and were friends. “It’s a good piece, Nadine.”
“Damn right it is.” Nadine angled her head. “But.”
“Okay.” Louise released her stubby ponytail and ran a hand through her thick, dark curls. “We’re getting close to retreading here. We’ve had nothing new in a couple of days.”
“Neither has anybody else. And I’ve got Dallas.”
“And that’s a big one.” Louise was a pretty woman, soft-featured, bright-eyed. She’d come to Channel 75 direct from college. After less than a month on the job, Nadine had scooped her up as her main tech. The arrangement suited them both. “She’s got a solid visual and an excellent throat. The Roarke factor adds a gold edge. That’s not including the fact she’s got a rep as a good cop.”
“So?”