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the tattoos.”
    â€œSorry about that.” I waved Ian into the room. He’d traded in his kilt and Captain America boots for a pair of broken-in jeans and Doc Martens, but he’d kept the black tank top. If it weren’t for the tattoos covering both well-muscled biceps, he’d be practically mainstream.
    â€œAre those real?” Leatrice had overcome her embarrassment and stood inches away from Ian’s arms.
    He nodded. “Do you like them?”
    Leatrice cocked her head to one side. “They’re interesting. This woman certainly isn’t dressed to be riding a dragon like that, though.”
    â€œTattoos are very fashionable now.” Richard sank onto the couch, barely taking note of the body art. “Everyone has them.”
    â€œDo you think I should get one?” Leatrice brightened.
    â€œNo,” I said forcefully. I noticed Richard’s disappointment that I wouldn’t let him egg her on and glared at him. I turned my attention to Ian. “What are you doing here, by the way?”
    He produced my boxy, metal wedding emergency kit from behind his back and set it on the floor. “The lads accidentally loaded this in with our equipment. Your address is on the business card you taped to the inside, so I figured I’d return it to you.”
    â€œThanks.” I wondered if that was the only reason he’d returned it personally, but I didn’t want to take a bit of harmless flirting too seriously. He seemed like the type who did lots of flirting anyway.
    Ian took a few steps away from Leatrice and gave my apartment the once-over. “Is this just an office or do you live here?”
    â€œI live here,” I explained. “My office is down the hall with the bedroom.” My apartment was shaped like a baby rattle with two clusters of rooms separated by a long hallway. I loved the fact that nothing in Georgetown was a standard size or shape.
    He strode over to the windows that lined the front of the living room and pulled back the curtains. He peered three stories down to the street. “Great location.”
    â€œIt’s a very safe building.” Leatrice followed him across the room. “I’m president of the neighborhoodwatch.” Actually, Leatrice was the neighborhood watch.
    â€œHow did you get in, anyway?” I asked. The front door was controlled by a keypad. You either had to know the code or have a resident buzz you in.
    He gave me a lopsided grin and shrugged.
    â€œOn second thought, I don’t want to know.” I looked at my watch. “Did you just leave the hotel?”
    â€œThe police made our load-out a bit longer than usual. At least they didn’t make us wait until they’d questioned everyone or I’d still be there.”
    Leatrice raised herself up on her tiptoes, which still only brought her chest level to Ian. “You were at the murder scene, too?”
    â€œBit of bad luck, eh?” He flashed her a smile. I could tell that Leatrice didn’t think it was bad luck at all.
    Leatrice moved in close. “Did you see anything important? Any clues?”
    â€œLots of people coming and going all day, but nothing sinister.” He placed his hands on the back of an oversized armchair and leaned forward. “I don’t see how they’re going to sort this mess out with everyone looking the same.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Leatrice asked.
    â€œExcept for me and the lads, everyone at that place is dressed alike. All those waiters are in tuxedos and the cooks are in those white jackets. Who can tell them apart?”
    â€œI never thought of it that way,” I said. “But not everyone is a suspect, are they?”
    â€œThe police spent a lot of time with the kitchen staff,” Ian said.
    â€œThat makes sense.” Richard picked at a tiny blob ofsomething on my couch. I needed to stop using my couch as a dining table. “They did work with Henri the