Seventeen Minutes on Route 18 Wrecked an Eighteen-Million-Dollar Corporate Buyout
Nina’s ballpoint clicked once.
“I have the visitor logs and the server access records, Mrs.
Halston.”
“Then check the timestamp on the illegal download,” I said.
Gavin tapped his phone against his leg.
“You’re embarrassing yourself in front of a client.”
I pressed my thumb into the watch crystal until the glass grew warm.
“The timestamp, Nina.”
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