“There is,” Naomi admitted. “I had a friend in a government agency do a little digging for me. Off the record.”
“Government agency? Like the CIA, which happens to be just up the road?” Helen asked, nodding in the general direction of the Farm, the CIA’s training ground and Virginia’s worst-kept secret.
“You don’t need to know what you don’t need to know,” Naomi said calmly. “Wherever I got the information, you can trust me when I tell you the source is impeccable. And this source tells me Pasha Lazarov is in the U.S.”
The baby made a whimpering noise and started to squirm.Naomi glanced into the stroller. “She’s waking up. You’ve got about thirty seconds before I put her to the boob.”
“Supposing all this is true, that Pasha Lazarov is out to avenge his dad, why involve us?” I asked.
“You’re already involved, whether you like it or not,” Naomi said. “Pasha can’t kill the pilots of that flight, they’re already dead, thanks to Billie.” She paused with a cocked eyebrow, but I refused to feel bad about killing those two, even if they were fellow Museum agents.
“They started it,” I muttered.
Naomi ignored me and carried on. “If Pasha is targeting everybody who had a hand in Lazarov Sr.’s death, then you’re next on the list—mostly because you’re the only ones left alive.”
The kid snuffled again, opening wide eyes and blinking furiously. She balled up her hands and let out a shriek that about peeled the paint off the nearest building. In one deft movement, Naomi scooped her up and pulled the neckline of her top down, settling her to nurse.
Helen gave Naomi a curious look. “Does Dennis know what you do for a living? Does he know who we are?”
“Dennis doesn’t ask questions he doesn’t want answered. I don’t really understand his work, and he doesn’t understand mine. We like it that way.”
“That seems lonely,” Helen said.
Naomi shrugged. “There’s a lot of room left that isn’t about work. That’s where we meet.” She paused, wiping up a stray drop of milk from the corner of the kid’s mouth.
I brought her back to the subject at hand. “It was nice ofyou to warn us about Pasha Lazarov, but this isn’t official Museum business, is it?”
She shifted, avoiding my eyes. “It might be off the books,” she admitted.
“Hence asking a friend who doesn’t work for the Museum to confirm that Pasha Lazarov is in the U.S.,” Mary Alice surmised.
Naomi’s expression was noncommittal.
“Is that why we got such shitty accommodations?” Natalie demanded.
Naomi leveled her gaze at Nat. “Lyndsay worked hard to find that Groupon for the Best Western,” she said, invoking the name of her assistant.
“What aren’t you telling us?” I pressed.
Naomi put the child up to her shoulder and started smacking her gently on the back, trying to bring up a burp. “I was off for a few months having this one,” she said, jiggling the child as she talked. “When I came back, I realized there had been a security breach. A small one,” she hurried to clarify. “Almost imperceptible unless you knew what you were looking for.”
“How many files were accessed?”
Just then the kid let out a milky belch. “Good job, baby girl,” Naomi crooned.
“Better out than in,” Helen agreed.
“Naomi,” I said in a dangerous voice.
She sighed and put the kid back into the stroller, stuffing a pacifier into her mouth. The baby made sounds that might have been giggles and reached for her toes. Naomi turnedback to us. “There were two sets of files accessed. The Lazarov job and one other—a hit two months ago, and nothing to do with Lazarov or you. I’ve already notified the agent responsible and he’s taking a nice long rest in Tahiti until this blows over.”
“Who accessed the files?” Mary Alice asked.
Naomi’s face shuttered. “I don’t know yet. They’ve covered their tracks pretty well. But I will take care of them myself when I find out.”
She stood up, brushing the creases from her linen pants. “Now, I’ve got a funnel cake with my name on it. Anything else you need to know is in a packet I’ve left at a dead drop under a porch on the corner of Duke of Gloucester and Nassau Streets.”
“That’s it?” Natalie demanded. “Why are you handling this privately if it’s Museum business?”