.

The Only Sensible Way

(part 3)

His nose picks up the scent before it falls.

Nick steps out of the way, turns around, and catches the coffee cup that would've spilled on him if he'd stayed put. He steadies himself on the desk beside him and takes a breath.

"Oops, my bad," Officer Wolford announces. His voice booms, carrying the deep bass of his casual Outback Island accent through the room. He doesn't look sorry in the least way.

Nick sets the coffee cup back into the cardboard holder from Snarlbucks and steps back. "No harm, no foul."

Officer Wolford grins in the most insincere way possible. "No no, I'm so sorry. Clumsy me, you woulda been soaked in that coffee, Wilde."

All nearby officers conspicuously avoid looking like they're watching, despite obviously straining the limits of peripheral vision. It's been two weeks and he's felt exactly this watched the entire time, only now he can plainly see the stares out of his peripheral vision. Nick stands between the water cooler and an empty desk; there is no reason Officer Wolford should be over there, much less already holding several drinks.

"Thank goodness fah dos impressive reflexes."

"That's what Mom used to say every morning. Right before almost spilling breakfast on me."

"Hahah! Sucha clever fox!" Wolford booms. Nick squints a bit, fighting a wince. Everything about the situation feels seven kinds of weird. "Sucha clever, crafty fox. Sure's a good thing we got you on our side, isn't it, Officer Crafty?"

All eyes, even those across the room, watch his direction. Without waiting for a response, Wolford continues. "You better be careful, real careful. We walk a tightrope here at District One, and we're the best in Zootopia. The BEST. We look out fah each other, and we lock away crafty animals by. the. hour."

Nick panics inside. It's a rare but unmistakable feeling: the same dread he got back in the day when he was caught dead-to-rights in the middle of a con, when every excuse was batted to the side, when every option was exhausted, every back up plan and reinforcement and escape route completely vanished from the playing field.

It was the feeling of being totally, unequivocally exposed.

"Word is you crafty-ed ya way around some of the training we all been through. Made some real clever solutions to a test of strength and character. I don't know how you made it, but if that's true, then you were lucky to pass. But you better watch yourself close, fox, 'cause well..."

Wolford leans in, so close Nick can feel the hot breath on his cheek, and speaks quietly.

"...That luck could run out."

"Lucky? You're going to insist that all of your interactions were coincidence? That Bellwether approached you by chance?"

Judy tries conjuring reason with fruitless waves of her arms. "Yes! 'By chance,' I'm friendly and a protector of the people, and it is a baffling 'coincidence' that somebody who felt oppressed reached out to me."

"So you agree that she was oppressed?"

"I said she 'felt' oppressed."

"But you sympathize with her cause?"

"Yea—no. No, not her cause. Her plight? Yes."

"So you two had a disagreement about methods."

"No! Not in person. I never heard her talk about her plans; I had no idea what she was planning! It was a complete surprise when we uncovered it. Nobody was more caught off-guard than I was. You can ask my partner Nick."

"Right. The fox."

A hollow ache settles into her chest. Judy suddenly regrets nothing more than bringing Nick's name to the table. Just as suddenly, she feels massively guilty for feeling regret in the first place. Nick's wounded face flashes across her mind.

"Did you clear him as a CI with the department?

"No, I didn't. But he was acting strictly as a confidential informant the entire time."

"He never entered sensitive or restricted areas?"

"No," she says without batting an eyelash. In her entire life, she's never lied so earnestly and without hesitation. She segues the conversation immediately. "I was new to the force, and I didn't know how to—"

"They didn't teach you how to declare informants in training?"

"They did."

"And you got top marks in school."

"The system didn't accept my requests for support."

"Your Captain denied you permission to acquire an informant and so you did it without consent?"

One blatant lie at a time was more than enough for Judy; the truth needed to be the focus here. "...Yes."

"And added a second criminal to the list of people helping you uncover a conspiracy within the ranks of city officials."

"Yes."

"Have you read Officer Wilde's criminal record and psych evaluations?"

Judy hesitates. She not considering lying again; it's just never occurred to her to look through his records. Why would she invade her partner's—no, her friend's—privacy like that?

"...I have not."

"Never?"

"No."

"Oh." Jin jots a note down into his tattered notebook.

The feeling of guilt starts creeping over her tiny chest again. The network window is open on the computer at her desk. It would be so easy to just type in 'Wilde' into the criminal database and...

"The report says Bellwether helped you at several key moments in the investigation. Why would she help you uncover her conspiracy?"

"She didn't. At least, I don't think she was—"

"What would she gain from sharing resources with you?"

"I-I don't know… She—"

"Did you return the favors?"

"No! Never. They were just favors."

"Is Bellwether your friend?"

"No."

"Was Bellwether your friend?"

"No!"

"Judy, was your Dawn friend?"

"I barely knew her!"

"She was seen and heard on several occasions to have pulled you close and said, quote: 'Us little guys have to stick together.'"

He's so intense, Judy can almost feel his whiskers brushing her face across the table. Worse still, he continues to look like he might switch to a question about the carrot farm any second. Her mouth hangs slightly open, suddenly drier than the air in Sahara Square.

"I told you, I'm friendly. She… I don't know why…"

"There was nothing in the case file before you arrived. How does a rookie cop on her first case stumble into every clue when the best officers on the force have been tearing at the impenetrable, impossible conspiracy for weeks?"

"Nothing in the case? There was a photo! That's how I did it: I started with that photo and followed every lead."

"There was no photo. Everybody at the DA's office remembers that file being empty, as well as the officers interviewed here. We were well aware of the lack of evidence, lack of leads, lack of everything. Until you arrived."

"What? It was definitely there. That doesn't make sense…"

"You're right, it doesn't. Judy, you have no idea how much I want to believe you." Jin's brow is furrowed and high. Every word is mournful. "I need to know the truth."

"I'm… telling the truth. I…"

"Help make things right, Judy. What Bellwether did is unheard of. She hurt a lot of innocents, she betrayed her city."

"She betrayed me too."

Jin leans in, extending a hand of comfort. "And who did you betray?"

It's Judy's turn to transform. She presses herself up from the chair with one muscled leg and plants both hands on the table. Every scrap of intensity gathers at her face.

"I would never betray this city. I love Zootopia with every hair on my body." She wears a primal mask; it's the face of a mother bear, the face of a charging bull, the face of a pouncing lion. "I am a loyal public servant. I am consummately passionate about protecting all citizens and upholding every law. Ask any of my fellow officers."

"I will."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do."

She's out the door before the raccoon can answer.

The answer reaches Nick's tongue. He takes a step forward, summoning the nonexistent reserve courage in his stomach and... Judy grabs him by the collar as she storms past.

"We're leaving!"

Nick stumbles a step but quickly falls in line.

"Good talk, Wilde!" Wolford calls from far away.

They charge through the front door of the precinct without giving a second look back.