Page 138 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

“Finish the axle,” I tell him.

He squints. “That’s a yes, then.”

Fletcher jerks his head toward the back office. Pike follows without argument, already pulling his bag off his shoulder. He moves like a man who lives in information. Quick, efficient, no wasted motion.

I shut the office door behind us.

The noise of the garage dulls to a low hum.

Pike sets his bag down on the desk and pulls out his tablet, tapping it awake. “So…”

I pull up a chair and sit. Fletcher folds his arms, leaning back against the wall. I bite the bullet. “Let’s just get to it,” I say.

“Alright.” Pike nods. “Short version first.” He turns the screen toward us. “She didn’t do anything.”

Relief doesn’t come like a wave, more like something unclenching that I didn’t realize had been locked tight.

I exhale slowly through my nose.

“Walk me through it,” I say.

Pike taps the screen. “These are the reports filed against her. Dates, summaries, submission logs.”

There are too many. That’s my first thought. Too many complaints. Too many entries. Enough to make any system nervous.

Enough to get someone fired.

“They look legit,” Fletcher mutters.

“They’re designed to,” Pike replies.

I scroll.

Same tone. Same phrasing. No specifics. Nothing concrete.

“She was inappropriate with parents.”

“Overly familiar.”

“Crossed professional boundaries.”

My jaw tightens. “They all read the same.”

Pike’s mouth twitches slightly. “Yeah. That’s because they are.” He taps the screen again. “Same device,” he says. “Same IP origin. Same browser fingerprint.”

I look at him. “One person.”

“Or one location,” he says. “But statistically? One person pretending to be many.”

I sit back slightly. “So she was targeted.”

“Yes,” Pike answers simply.

Fletcher shifts his weight. “Can you trace it?”

“I can narrow it,” Pike says. “It’s coming from a residential network. Same general area her ex is in.”

My attention sharpens. “June thinks it’s him. That’s what she said.”