Maybe Naomi had found something, I thought, as I shut the door behind me, dropped my duster in a heap on the floor. She might have kept a record of her results, or at least the leads she'd been following. No way she'd have kept records like that on her machine at work, she'd have stored them on her home telecom. Maybe she'd even slaved her home system to the one at work-much the way my telecom here was slaved to the one in Auburn. It was worth a try.