She'd have liked to stop and take a long look at the exotic-looking clothing and unusual lighting effects, but Tony was pulling her into a large, brightly lit room which appeared to be a sort of living room, bedroom, and kitchen all combined in an overwhelming confusion of color and clutter. Much to Sandi's consternation, there was even a shower with a see-through plastic curtain draped around it standing right beside a pile of cushions which apparently served as a sofa.

What a crazy place for a shower! she marveled to herself. Just imagine being naked in there with people sitting and watching you so close they could practically touch you! The very idea sent inexplicable prickles of excitement shooting up her spine, and Sandi immediately put an end to that lewd train of thought.

The young wife would have liked to inspect this curious room, so totally divorced from her conception of a house, but the agile, half-naked photographer was hurrying up a still steeper flight of steps and she was so busy concentrating on not stumbling on her clumsy, thick-soled shoes that she didn't dare to glance anywhere but down.

The third level of Tony Fletcher's peculiar house was his studio, and whereas his living quarters had been in wild disorder, this room was methodically neat. Sunlight flooded into the slant-ceilinged chamber through two large skylights, and the white walls were ringed with photographs and colorful posters.

"What a strange building!" Sandi forgot her shyness enough to exclaim. "It's so tall and narrow – I never saw anything like it before."

"Yeah, it's pretty weird," Tony agreed. "It's one of the oldest houses in Brunrocke – belonged to my friend Ted's grandfather before he kicked off. But I like it, 'cause it reminds me of home."

"H-home?"

"London. Sit down." The good-looking young man gestured toward a canvas folding chair, then ambled over to the far side of the large room and began doing something with his camera equipment.