Sorry about the wait again. Life pulled a sucker punch on me. I do want to say that I never really thought about writing a story before. Then I got the idea so I tested it with a chapter and loved writing it. I'm still trying to become a skilled writer, so thank you for sticking with it! I appreciate all the comments and kind words, and I hope you are all enjoying the ride! Huge shout out to Whatabummer for his contribution as my editor, and Calidain for allowing me to bounce ideas off them. Comments are always welcomed!

I own nothing. Not even my sanity.

One Thread to Pull

"Zip code?" Judy asked, staring at the 3 digits written on the whiteboard.

"Too short. Zip codes are 5 digits. Could be an area code though. Do any of the victim's' phone numbers start with 851?" Nick responded.

Judy double checked the numbers written in the files for each victim. "Nope, all 3 are different, but none are 851. How about an address?"

"It's definitely possible, but why leave just the address number with no street. There has to be hundreds of 851s throughout Zootopia."

"Maybe we don't need to look at all of Zootopia. All 3 murders have taken place around the Sahara district. How many 851s are there in the Sahara district?"

Nicks paws clacked against the keyboard as filtered the results. "I have two addresses in the Sahara District. One is a Buga Burger on Main Street, and the other is a sushi place in a strip mall. I say we check out that sushi place for lunch."

"So basically we have nothing on what 851 means or how it could be related to our case," Judy said.

"We have to give thought that maybe it means nothing. It could be a joke, or maybe it's not related because whoever slipped us this just wants us to waste our time in clues that lead to nowhere," Nick replied.

Judy sat back down at her desk and groaned in frustration, rubbing her temples. The feeling of frustration evident as she thought back to the crime scenes, trying to pick out anything that might lead them somewhere. "We have nothing else to go on. This guy isn't even leaving fur strands! How the heck do you murder three people and not leave a strand of fur to find? It's like we're chasing a ghost."

Nick reached across the table and squeezed Judy's paw. "We're going to get him. He's not perfect, he will make mistakes, and we will use those mistakes to catch him. We just need to find the right thread, give it a good tug, and the entire thing will unravel."

Nick stood up and walked over to the whiteboard, turning it around to the blank side. He knew that when they started to felt out matched the best course of action is to review what they did have. Picking up a marker, the gears in his brain started to turn as he recited what information they did know. "We have two crime scenes and three murders. Each one of them gives us some sort of information about who we are dealing with. For example, looking at Alison's murder we know that whoever killed his has to be strong, as they were able to slice through her stomach and carry her around the apartment after knocking her out," he said, writing the word 'strong' in black ink on the board.

Judy stood up and picked up another marker. "We also know that he's organized. He had everything he needed for Alison's murder ready to go, including cleaning supplies. He's also smart as he's been able to avoid leaving any physical evidence."

"He knows his way around tools. He built that entire rig for the Reynolds from scratch. That also tells us he's smart," Nick replied, jotting the information on the board. "An equine is very possible based on what information we have so far. We should work the Community college angel. It's just a possibility, but it's still something to follow up on.

"Crossing searching all equine students enrolled at Savannah Central Community College will give us a huge list, especially since we have no clue when we has even enrolled."

"We don't… but the office at SCCC might,." Nick said, studying the photo of the hooded suspect. "Those hoodie designs change pretty much every year. Maybe not by a ton, but enough that it's noticeable. Maybe one of the office workers down at the college could recognize what year this hoodie is, and give us a starting time frame."

"Also, I went and ran the nitrogen tank's serial number again. Now we didn't have the full serial number, but I was able to compile a list of people that had bought tanks that had serial numbers that matched the partial number we have. I came up with a list of 27 names. It's at least shorter then the hundreds of names we had earlier," Judy said, sliding the list across the desk. "I haven't been able to dig through the list in detail, but at first glance they all seem to be legitimate businesses."

"Well would you look at that!" Nick said after studying the list for a minute, tapping a claw on a name near the end. "This guy - Luke Martin. He's listed as the owner of Discount Tech. Could you pull up a photo of him?"

Judy typed the necessary information into her computer before turning it around, displaying a photo of Pine Marten in a sleek fitting business suit standing in front of a store front.

"Your list may have just paid off," Nick said with a smile. "Luke Martin is a name I recognize from when I was young and hustling. He runs multiple 'businesses' that are really a front for him to people to sell items on the black market. I'd bet that nitro tank that he bought was then sold to our killer. He may even have met him himself … and best of all he owes me a favor."

"So it looks like our day has been planned. We'll go to the university, see what we can get there, then head to see Luke," Judy said, standing up.

"Yes. And get lunch somewhere in-between there."

"Males … always thinking with your stomach. You should try using that brain in your head every once in a while," Judy said as she tossed the keys over to Nick.

Nick easily caught them, sticking his tongue out at the smirking rabbit. "You see the brain is a muscle, and I work it out a lot. But you need rest days after workouts!"

"When will there be a rest day for my patience? You're constantly having me exercise that."

"You know Carrots, words can hurt," Nick said.

Judy plucked Nick's sunglasses off the dashboard, flicking them open and on to her face. "Shut up and drive slick."

"Yes ma'am," Nick replied, starring Judy down as he started the car. "I expect those back in perfect condition you know."

"Some people are so touchy," Judy said with a smile as the car took off down the street.

Savannah Central Community College was a large modern campus that sat in the center of downtown Savannah Central. The campus was built around several large open spaces, filled with students of all species and sizes, mingling about in groups or moving from building to building. The campus was new, with sleek modern buildings raised up against the crisp blue sky, their bases shaded by large trees whose leaves were turning vibrant shades of amber and crimson. The campus was one of the busiest places in the city, serving almost 25,000 students each year. It was built in such away to allow species of all sorts to learn in the same classroom, a true testament to the core ideals of Zootopia.

The pair of detectives made their way down the main corridor of the administration building. The staff was busy, with multiple mammals moving around the room to the universal rhythm of office work . Judy approached an older rabbit at the front desk typing something into a computer, a pair of glasses resting on her muzzle.. If not for the other rabbit's dark brown fur, Judy could have sworn she was the spitting image of an aunt of hers. Sitting on this other rabbit's desk, surrounded by papers of all sorts, was a nameplate that read "Mrs. Tip" The older rabbit turned as Judy approached. "How can I help y'all?" The rabbit's accent was slight, but Judy recognized it immediately; Mrs Tip was clearly from the Downs west of Bunnyburrow.

"Good morning, Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde, ZPD," Judy said with a bright smile. "We're here because we have a suspect in an ongoing investigation that was seen wearing an SCCC hoodie. We were hoping that perhaps someone here would be able to tell us what year the hoodie is from based on the design, possibly allowing us to narrow down where to search a bit more." Judy held out the photo to the rabbit.

"Oh goodness," Mrs. Tip said. "I will be no help with that at all, each year blends into the next for me! But if you go down the hall to room 105, you'll find the student store. Jamie has run the student store for years, and I would bet that she would be able to help you two!"

"Thank you very much ma'am," Nick said as he took the photo back from the rabbit. With a wave the two walked out of the office, and further down the hallway. Picking out the student store was easy, and the two were greeted by an overwhelming amount of green and white, the colors of the campus displayed on everything from shirts to keychains.

"Hi there, what can I help you two with?" A voice said from the right of the two detectives. Turning towards the counter the two found a deer decked out from head to toe in spirit gear.

"Jamie? Detectives Hopps and Wilde, ZPD. We were directed your way by Mrs. Tip - she told us you might be able to help us identify what year the hoodie in this photo is from," Judy said, showing the deer the surveillance cam photo.

She reached across the counter, taking the photo and studying it. "It has to be either two or three years ago. The design we used on the arm was circular both years, so I can't say exactly which year it is, but hopefully that narrows it down enough to help."

"Well it certainly beats looking through the last ten years!" Nick said, taking the photo back."Anything else you can tell us that might help us ID the student?"

"Unfortunately there's nothing else I can really tell from the photo," the deer replied apologetically.

"What you gave us is a great help! We very much appreciate it," Judy replied, offering a paw.

With a final goodbye, the two walked out. A feeling of contemplative comfort overtook the pair as they walked down the long bright hallway, lost in thought. With a year range to go on, the two felt slightly more optimistic than they did earlier, even if it wasn't a definitive suspect name. With more digging and research, they were sure to have one soon.

Nick pushed the door to the hallway open, stepping back into the midday sun. "Wanna head to the coffee shop for lunch? I could use a caffeinated pick me up on top of food."

"Sounds like a great idea to me," Judy replied.

The café was bustling during the afternoon rush, with mammals of all sorts stopping in to fuel up and re-energize for the day. Near the back of the Café, in a small dimly lit booth sat Nick and Judy.

"It does narrow the amount of people we have to look through. Brings it down from a few thousand to a few hundred at least," Nick said, stuffing a handful of chips into his mouth.

Judy nodded, lost in thought as she sipped her latte. "True. But that's still a ton of mammals to sort through."

"But if Luke was the one that sold the nitro tank, he might be be able to give us enough to reduce that list even more."

The two fell into a silence as they ate, the sounds of the busy coffee shop filled the air.

"So Cotton is going to be in the Carrot Day Festival talent show this year. She won't tell her parents what she's doing, but Cyn said she would make sure some on videos it for us," Judy said.

"Oooo we might finally have something that tops your production of blood and death!"

"Nothing will top my production if blood and death. It'd be one of the great Broadway productions of the modern age if I hadn't decided to become a cop you know."

"Excuse me, police?" A small voice interrupted.

The two turned to see a young fox kit, no older than six.

"Hi, ya. I saw your badges." he said, pointing at the badge on Nick's hip." "I need you to arrest my brother. He's a liar. He said he was going to buy me a treat then didn't."

"Kyle? Hey, you can't just walk off like that, that's dangerous," said a young adult fox, walking over.

"I assume you're the older brother I'm supposed to arrest," Nick said, twirling a pair of cuffs in his paws.

"Oh geez Kyle, I can't take you anywhere," he replied, rubbing his temples. "I'm sorry officers…" The fox's eyes widened as he stood up, his eyes meeting the two detectives. "Oh my god, you're Nick Wilde. And you're Judy Hopps."

"That would be me yes. I'm sorry, have we met?" Nick asked, tilting his head as he tried to remember the face.

"No sorry, let me explain. Our dad lost his job during during the night howler scare … we had some rough times as a family. But while we watched the news coverage of how you two stopped Bellwether and helped cure all those mammals, my dad pointed at the screen - at you."

Judy glanced over to see Nick's usual look of bemused detachment slip into genuine surprise.

"My dad said you were a hero, Officer Wilde. And I guess …" the fox trailed off, looking a bit sheepish. "Well, I guess it made me want to be a police officer. I've been accepted into the academy for the spring semester."

"Oh that is fantastic to hear! It's going to be challenging, but if you put in the work, I'm sure you'll ace it!" Judy said.

"Thanks, it means a lot to hear that from you. I've spent my whole school career working towards this goal. I feel ready for it."

The fox glanced over at Nick, who swallowed thickly for a moment before sliding back into his usual charm.

"Well I know we'll be keeping an eye out to see your name on the graduation list. What's your name?" Nick asked.

"Julian Trot. We should probably get out of your fur, but would it be OK if I got a picture with you two?" he asked.

"Of course!" Judy said, taking the phone from the fox. Turning it sideways, Judy snapped a few quick photos before handing it back to Julian.

Nick leaned down, tapping the youngest fox's chest. "You know your brother is going to need your help to make it as a police officer, it isn't an easy thing to do. You be sure to keep an eye on him OK?"

"Yes sir," the kit responded, giving a small salute and standing at attention.

"Good. I expect to see you at Precinct 1 after your graduation. Just, try your best not to die. The weekly live ammunition tolerance training took a few from my class," the fox said in an overly somber tone.

A small grey paw smacked the foxes shoulder as he let out a quiet snicker. The rabbit rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Don't listen to him. You'll do fine. When it gets rough, just remember why you're doing it, that's the most important part."

With a final thank you, the two younger foxes left. "He reminds me a bit of a bunny I know," Nick said, sipping his coffee

"Funny, I was just about to say that he reminds me of a fox that I know." she shit back with a smile.

"Perhaps he's a nice mixture of the two. Definitely watch for his name on the graduation list. He's going to go far. Now, If I remember correctly, we have a clue to follow."

Discount Tech was nestled in the back corner of a busy strip mall. The neon letters above the store were dated at best, the window decals advertising services such as phone repairs and hard drive restoration. The smell of dusty old electronics filled the pairs noses as they walked into the store, stopping to glance around at the decade old electronics around them.

"Hey Carrots, check it out! It's one of the original iCarrot computers. Remember how they used to have the neon see through colors on the sides?" Nick said, shuffling the computer around as he looked at it.

"Oh that's a flashback! I remember when they installed these the year it came out in our school computer lab when I was in 1st grade. I was so excited to use it because I had seen my next door neighbor using it to draw on some program and I thought it was the coolest thing," Judy replied.

"Now why did you gave to go and make me feel old?" Nick asked, furrowing his brows. "I was in high school the year these were released."

"Sorry about the wait folks, what can I get for you?"

The pair turned around and was greeted by a short pine marten in a nice looking suit.

"Luke Martin, you old fossil - look at you! You've come a long way from running your shop out of the warehouse down by the docks."

"Nick! It's been ages!" the marten said, shaking Nick's paw and leaning in conspiratorially. "Rumor has it your wearing blue now. Made a clean cut and an honest living?"

"You heard right. It's partly why I'm here actually. We're investing a murder, and we have a lead. It's a partial serial number from a nitrogen tank that matches one you sold not too long ago," Nick replied, handing the marten the serial number and recipient of purchase.

"Dammit, I knew he was crazy," he muttered to himself as he checked the paper.

"Look, Luke. We're homicide detectives, not Vice. Nick says you don't sell anything worse than Nip, so frankly we don't care about your little operation here. We just want the information to help bring to justice and the murder of a young high school English teacher," Judy said, showing a photo of Alison to Luke off her phone.

The marten closed his eyes and sighed, "Fine, but only because we have a history Nick. I did sell a tank matching the partial here. The dude was off somehow, creeped me right out - and that's saying something as I'm used to working with all kinds of unsavory sorts. He seemed pissed off, and I heard him mumble something about needing to move to the next level."

"The next level? Maybe he was doing minor crimes before he killed Alison. Maybe we can find something from digging in public records?" Judy suggested. "Did you happen to get his name or anything like that?"

"Look, when I'm selling items to people who don't want others to know they are buying said items, I've found it best not to ask any unnecessary questions," the marten responded.

"Could you describe him for us at least?" Nick asked, clicking his pen.

"He wasn't anything super special. Big, over six feet, pretty stocky. He was wearing all black if that helps. As far species goes, I'm pretty sure he was a donkey."

Nick grinned as he finished scribbling, turning towards Judy. "Looks like we got ourselves a species. Thanks Luke. We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."

The two detectives walked back out into the bright Sahara sun, their spirits higher then they were that morning. "You know, it makes sense that the killer is a donkey," Nick said as he pulled his sunglasses out of his coat pocket.

Judy grimaced and sighed. "I'm going to regret asking this, but why does it make sense?"

"Because," Nick said, sliding his sunglasses on as he grinned, "This case has been a real pain in the ass."