looked at her.
“You’re still using that argument?”
Her expression tightened.
“What argument?”
“The same one that worked five years ago.”
Alexander looked between us.
I opened another file.
“Forensic analysis.”
Then I turned the screen toward him.
“The emails supposedly sent by me were created through a cloned account.”
His face changed.
“The photographs were real.”
I paused.
“The story attached to them wasn’t.”
Alexander frowned.
“What hotel?”
“The Carlton.”
His jaw tightened.
“I remember.”
“The man photographed with me was Daniel Cross.”
I watched his face.
“A private
