Place of Exile by Rose Beecham

Author:Rose Beecham
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: ! Yes
ISBN: 9781933110981
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2007-12-10T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

The woman on the doorstep had probably never spent a moment of her life wondering if she was pretty. Debbie knew the type from high school. They were the ones who dated the boys with late-model cars, married a doctor right after college, and had an affair with the pool guy when they got bored taking their kids to soccer.

Eyes the color of forget-me-nots focused on Debbie. “Who are you?” the visitor asked.

She was beautiful, Debbie decided, not pretty. She wasn’t sure what made the difference. The cheekbones, maybe. After years as a hairdresser, Debbie was used to hiding “ß aws,” but this woman’s face was so perfectly structured and her features so lovely, she could shave her head and still stop trafÞ c. When makeup artists raved about porcelain skin, hers was the kind they were talking about. In beauty magazines, her looks were classiÞ ed as “Nordic.” Clients wanted hair like hers, pale honey shot through with platinum and gold, but it would take hundreds of foils to come close to the natural color. She wore it drawn back tightly into a chignon. Very elegant. She couldn’t possibly be from around here.

Debbie remembered to answer her blunt question. “I’m a friend of Jude’s. Debbie Basher.”

The woman didn’t offer her name. “Is Jude home?”

“No, she’s in Cortez.”

“But you’re staying in her house?”

Debbie decided she’d had enough of the twenty questions. “I’m sorry, who did you say you are?”

• 133 •

ROSE BEECHAM

A wintry blue gaze settled on Debbie’s face. “Dr. Mercy Westmoreland. I’m with the ME’s ofÞ ce in Grand Junction.”

Debbie felt instantly foolish. This woman hadn’t married a doctor, she was a doctor. Brainy as well as beautiful. It didn’t seem fair. And she was a professional colleague of Jude’s, helping solve crimes. Her job was the gruesome one, cutting up bodies to explain how people died. In that moment, Debbie knew where she’d seen Dr. Westmoreland before.

“Oh, my God. Are you Mercy Westmoreland from Court TV?”

Flustered, she backed up a few steps. “I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you.

On the program you look more…made up. Please, come in.”

The lovely doctor didn’t move. Debbie’s head spun. Not only was Dr. Westmoreland on TV, she was half of the Four Corners’ most famous lesbian couple. She’d married a British actress. They were the ones whose soirée Agatha and Tulley were losing their minds over. How could Debbie have been so dumb she didn’t know all this immediately?

Dr. Westmoreland seemed to be weighing something in her mind, then she stepped past Debbie and marched into the house like she owned it. Glancing around the living room, she asked, “When are you expecting Jude?”

“Not tonight. She’s tied up with a big murder investigation. The one on the news.”

Debbie took in the doctor’s appearance. Some women were born to wear narrow-Þ t cream pants with a white shirt tucked in. Mercy Westmoreland had completed her casual chic with a light sweater slung loosely around her shoulders. Debbie had the strange impression that under the sensible outer layer, she wore sexy French lingerie.

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