A/N: Here's the last Part in Chapter 3! I hope you enjoy. I'm particularly eager to hear your thoughts on the newest cast member joining the tale.
Some shout-outs:
My sincere thanks to winerp for continuing to proof the story as a beta-reader! His thoughts and suggestions on the story and how it aligns with the world of Zootopia are immensely valuable, and I'm so appreciative of his efforts! And, again, go check out his story, "Change starts with You"!
And a big thank you to TheCatweazle, who has agreed to serve as a beta-reader! He has been a whirlwind so far and has brought a critical and focused eye to every word in this story. I'm incredibly thankful for everything he has done. And also give his story, "Hammer to Fall", a good read! (Though you may want to begin with the preceding story, "Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life", to get a fuller sense of the narrative.)
Thank you for your reviews and PMs! I use your thoughts as much as I can to inform the development of these pieces. I appreciate the time and effort you give in sharing your opinions with me!
Finally, if you haven't been to the blog "Zootopia News Network" (ZNN), I sincerely suggest you pay it a visit. They share some breathtaking stories, comics and more from artists and authors from around the world. I'm proud to be a new donor to ZNN. They're doing exciting work that I'm happy to support, and it'll be great fun to see it continue to grow!
Thanks for reading ~ Euphonemes
Run
Coffee had indeed done the trick. Nick had been reluctant to share his "special stash" of whole beans, grown on the finest farm or whatever — Judy hadn't listened that far. But persistently jabbing her mug into his elbow had finally elicited the appropriate response. And it had been really good coffee.
One cup of strong coffee and a secret hour-long nap — Nick had taken a special delight in covering for her — had helped in restoring Judy's clarity, at least partly. She had returned her attention to Mr. Mansoa. She and Nick had sat at that desk for…she couldn't even say for how long. They read each and every tip, considered it carefully, and tossed it in the trash. Several tips had stemmed from mistaken identity. Especially notable had been the elderly gopher who claimed to have seen Mr. Mansoa in his kitchen cupboard — turns out their missing hyena did bear a passing resemblance to a cereal mascot. And of course, too many prank calls to count. But each one had been meticulously catalogued. In fact, she could have listened to all of them on the phone log database, were she in the mood for another heavy dose of frustration.
There was one recording, though, she had found in the bowels of ZPD's server farm. Quick, fuzzy. Barely enough time for the dispatcher to greet the caller when the gruff voice belted out: "Talk to Lobos. He'll know where Mansoa went."
Thin, so very thin. Nothing of substance, really. Yet, sound advice. And that was why Officers Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde were sitting in two ornate chairs in a reception room, waiting for a rather perky executive assistant to escort them into the mayor's office.
City Hall had undergone major revisions since her last time here. It was barely recognizable. Walls were plainer — but not in any specific way. It just felt blander, devoid of the manic energy that the Lionheart staff had infused into the building's aura. It was still impossibly busy, with creatures of all types and sizes scurrying about. Yet, it lacked the same…fire.
Anxious paws tapped her knees while her partner twiddled away on his phone. "More calls," he had said. He had taken on a new tone when he had said it. More determined. Driven by a certain purpose. She wondered if all campaign managers sounded like that. Hearing and seeing it with Nick, though, would require a little adjustment.
"So, Nick, been meaning to ask…." She trailed off, and he put down his phone. "When you submitted the election forms…."
"Oh, the forms? Don't worry about those. Just a formality." He smirked — was there a joke in there somewhere? Probably, but Judy's eye had been caught by the cover of the book occupying a portion of the nearby coffee table. Ancient Animalia and Art. The most recent work published by Arturo Lobos. Its cover was signed in silver ink. Her fears of narcissism suddenly adopted a new perspective.
She returned to Nick. "But I told you to wait."
Nick snorted, exasperation with a hint of glib. "For what? There was no need to hold off on 'em. They don't really mean anything. Just gets the ball rolling — the really good stuff comes later. Plus, the deadline was coming up soon. Didn't want to wait until the last minute, right?"
"When's the deadline?"
Nick spun his wrist, feigning examination of a wristwatch. "Oh, in about…three hours."
"Well then, guess it's not the last minute."
"Exactly. So like I said, nothing for you to worry about."
But Judy was keen to push the issue. She rotated in her chair, which let out an impressively dignified creak as she dug into it. "Even so, how did everyone pick it up so fast? Did you deliver it to the press?"
"Not me."
His answer was quick but reeked of half-truth. She reached over with her paw and covered half his armrest. He pulled back slightly. "Oh, really?"
He stared ahead at a goat panicking over a malfunctioning copier. Shrill beeps broke from the corner, obscuring Nick's clicking tongue. "Must've had an eager beaver of a reporter at the election office."
"Hmm…." Potentially believable, but highly unlikely. Leaving things to chance…doesn't indicate a good campaign manager. Rather than leaving it be, she instead paused to think on who Nick would trust with releasing that kind of information. He had made calls without telling her whom he had been calling. His announcement suggested that it had to be someone Nick trusted completely. Someone wily who was able to plant the story for others to pick it up. Someone like….
The goat had cleared a messy paper jam, and the steady hum of printing once again poured from the corner. And she had reached her conclusion. "Y'know, I'd count Finnick as you, too."
He stopped typing on his phone. Only for a few moments, but it was enough to bring a self-assured smirk to Judy's face. "Huh."
As good as a "yes" for Judy. She leaned back in the creaking chair. "I didn't know you still talk to him."
"Sure. Why wouldn't I?"
"Doesn't it bother him that you're a police officer now?"
Snout buried in his phone. "Nah, we're good on that front. Still find time to chat. You know how close we are."
She huffed. "Yeah, thick as thieves."
Pained surprise appeared on Nick's face. Judy was fairly confident he was exaggerating. "Thieves? We would never…."
Judy let a small laugh escape, which cheered up their little corner of the room. "Of course not." She let Nick's chuckle simmer down before she assumed a serious tone. "Wait — to pay for filing, you didn't have Finnick do…something…."
"All completely clean, ma'am." A little quick with his response, Judy thought.
"But where—"
The phone fell away. Emerald eyes glinted as they locked onto Judy whose open mouth had been caught mid-sentence. "Tell ya what. I will show you after we're done here. M'kay?"
The money would be important — Nick had been clear on that. Yet, his evasiveness had Judy wondering, which, given her detective mind, would likely not end well. She took a breath, deep and cleansing. "…okay. Fair enough." A slow surrender on the point, but not without a final volley. "Nick, thank you for handling it…but you can't keep surprising me. We need to be on the same page with this kind of stuff."
The emerald eyes were breathtaking as he scanned her. She sat still, awaiting the snarky comment that was sure to follow. She got it. "Okay, Carrots, you're right. From now on, I'll probably tell you most things. How's that?"
In all likelihood, she probably overreacted. But sitting in that chair, a few steps from the office of the Mayor of Zootopia, something overcame her. Nick, intentionally or not, had pushed the right button. "What! No, that's terrible! What I mean is—"
"Mr. Lobos will see you now." The executive assistant's perky voice airily floated past the two chairs. Angry to have been interrupted but eager to chat with Lobos, Judy let her point slide. The officers left their seats and followed a thin sheep along the hallway toward the mayor's office itself. Judy didn't remember this from before, but plastered on the walls were portraits of past mayors. Grim paintings of each of them, depicted in the midst of wearying terms of public service, adorned the walls. One patch of wall was discolored — probably where Lionheart's portrait once hung.
They passed through a set of thick doors. Made from exquisite oak, it was probably quite heavy. Embedded within the panels were intricate carvings of some scene or another — she was not well versed in art. New additions, Judy thought as they crossed to the two chairs waiting at the mayor's desk.
As they neared, she saw that the desk was pristine. No papers strewn about or piles of folders teetering. Only two pens aligned parallel to the edge and a laptop computer angled to precisely align the corners of the computer with the sides of the desk. A twinge of envy flared in Judy.
But, strangely, the desk was devoid of an occupant.
The assistant directed them to the seats and then pivoted. Over her shoulder, she called out, "Mr. Lobos will join you shortly." The heavy oaken doors closed with a bang.
Wide windows lined the wall behind the desk. The view was still as magnificent as ever. Nick unleashed a low whistle and wandered from his seat.
"Nice view from up here."
"Yeah." The air was calm, but stifling. She adjusted the collar of her ZPD blues. "Nick, should I even be here?"
Nick's nose was pressed into the windowpane. Something of great interest was obviously taking place at street level. "Why shouldn't you be here?"
"Well, thanks to you—"
"Finnick."
"You. Everyone's gonna know about my run."
He snorted. Fog splashed onto the glass. "That's kinda the plan, Hopps."
"I know that! But, now that we're involving Lobos in this search…I mean, how will it look if I'm in the middle of something that involves my opponent? C'mon, Nick, I'm standing in the center of City Hall!"
He was calm as ever as he turned away from the window and ran a paw along the veneered edge of the desk. "Firstly, you're sitting, not standing. Secondly, nobody will care."
She almost rose from the seat, but her legs had abruptly transformed into jelly. She now realized just how tired her body actually was. The coffee had given her a huge boost, but even still, an undercurrent of weariness was running pretty deeply. Nevertheless, she did manage a scoff for Nick. "Somebody has to care, Nick. I think it could be seen as a serious conflict of interests."
"Eh, maybe. A couple nosier citizens might complain, but most won't pay enough attention. So long as you don't blab to the media about an ongoing investigation. Again."
The stage lights brightened her face once more. The microphone stood passive, waiting for the rehearsed speech she would soon ruin completely. The same tensing fear of addressing that persnickety public at the Night Howler press conference again coursed through her veins while she and Nick waited in the mayor's office.
And as she fretted, she realized that she would need to make addresses like that again. And again. Her stomach clenched. But now, she remembered, Nick would be there. Not like last time, hiding in the wings. But with her completely. She allowed a smile to soften her cheeks, even as she berated her partner.
"Way to bring that one back, Nick. But what do you think, really? Should I be on this case?"
With a sigh, Nick retook his chair. Limbs crossed as he unloaded his thoughts. "The way Bogo explained it to me — and I agree with it — is that officially, you were assigned the case before you announced your candidacy. And you are nearly the best at this kind of work — save for yours truly."
She groaned and was about to respond when he put up a paw. He peeked around and, seeing no one, proceeded in a gruff whisper. "Unofficially…when Bogo found out you were running, he wanted to make sure you were on this case. Your candidacy may allow access to some places the ZPD hasn't been able to reach before. Turns out you're not the only one who's noticed the plight of our city's poorest. Bogo's been watching nothing happen for a while, and he thinks something doesn't smell right about all this."
Judy blinked a few times in surprise. Her mind, stimulated by the great coffee Nick had provided, churned through a thousand possibilities which were colliding within her head. She tried to voice at least a few of them. "Doesn't…what? Why—"
"Ah, Ms. Hopps, how good to meet you in person! Your sterling reputation precedes you."
With how Emmitt had portrayed him, Judy had expected Arturo Lobos to be a drooling idiot. Or perhaps a conniving and scheming whelp of a creature. Even after Lionheart had provided her with more background, she was in no way prepared to be greeted by what appeared to be an exceptional wolf.
Finely manicured gray fur, with flecks of mahogany interspersed, sheened in the city sunlight as he crossed the room from the heavy oaken doors. He was slightly taller and built more heavily than most wolves — his outfit had seams that had clearly been tailored for an unusual size. He tugged on the cuff of his tweed jacket and wrangled the black turtleneck underneath into form. Judy met his bespectacled eyes — congenial, but probing, searching for something. A short but potent chill crept up her spine.
After their first pawshake, she could tell why he had been selected as an emergency manager. A confident smile, flashing — but not baring — sharp canine teeth. He moved with the confidence of a seasoned orator, filling the room with his mere presence. His voice, a melodious tenor, warmed the very walls and held a certain enrapturing quality. Judy found it incredibly difficult to disengage from him.
After a few seconds, she finally managed. "Thank you, Mr. Lobos." Officially, Lobos was not the mayor. Nick had truly been helpful in explaining it to Judy. According to him, the emergency manager was working from this office and held very similar powers to a mayor. But in actuality, Lobos was a mere placeholder, simply using the office until the election. Though, to Judy, he seemed like a fine placeholder.
"And Mr. Wilde — I've been following your career with great interest! A pleasure to have you here."
"Charmed," Nick grumbled. Judy wished her campaign manager would show a tad more pep. It had taken Nick quite a lot of effort to come around to wolves in general. Moving away from his preconceived notion of wolves being "dumb-dumbs" had taken a great deal of time— and some fine fellow ZPD officers acting as exemplars. Nowadays, his opinion on wolves had improved significantly. Nevertheless, he still didn't really like them all that much.
"So, Ms. Hopps," Lobos opened as he eased into a really quite exquisite chair, "I suppose I should say: Welcome back! If I remember correctly, you paid my predecessor a visit a time or two."
"That's right, yes. And, you know, it looks like you've made some design changes since then."
"Oh, yes! Now, the staff decorated most of the floor; I must say I was a bit disappointed in their selections. But, this old mayor's office is my little domain. And it felt far too clinical. I like the oak. It brings warmth to the place."
Small talk. It was easy for Judy to switch friendliness on — a trait her kind parents had bestowed upon her. This hardly seemed to be the proper time for inane banter though. An investigation was afoot, after all. Still, she played her part. "I imagine art can do that to a room — those doors are impressive."
Judy noticed Lobos's mouth opening just a hair further and his body leaning forward, elbows planted on the desk. A soft and metronomic patter arose from the back of his chair. Thump-thump-thump. It took Judy a moment to realize it was Lobos's tail wagging. "You have an interest in art?"
A passing fancy would have been fairer. Nothing to write a book about, at least. "Well I, uh, saw your book out front…." She sounded a little more bashful than she had intended.
Lobos leaned back into his chair. "That, yes, I see. I just left that out there for a friend. A former student of mine, actually. He's completing his dissertation on the functionary roles art played in forming ancient species-based cluster groups."
Lobos paused. He then inhaled sharply, as if preparing to unload a semester's worth of knowledge once Judy asked. But, with a polite nod, Judy completely ignored his jargon and her curiosity and directed the conversation elsewhere. "You used to teach?"
That pushed him onto a better track. "I still do! I've been a professor for…oh, how many years, I don't know. But I'll tell you, Ms. Hopps, there's nothing quite like seeing a student understand a concept for the first time. There's a moment where their eyes just — just light up. And they get it. It's, ah, the most thrilling feeling in the world."
Odd how genuine Lobos sounds, Judy thought. It was refreshing, actually. Judy spent so much of her day wading through half-baked lies and excuses —the worst ones being the many creative reasons people gave as to why they had failed to pay their parking meter. To have such vibrant honesty, and from a politician…Judy shook her mind back into focus and took the reins. "So, how did you find your way in here then? Pretty far off from the classroom."
"Hah! Ah, indeed, Ms. Hopps. I do miss having more time for my students. But, I am a lover of culture. A culture that is expressed in art, music, theatre, writing, even the very buildings we choose to construct around ourselves. Our city is simply filled with it!"
Judy's mind suddenly plummeted as she tried to think of something cultural to bring up. She was sure all kinds of arts and culture and whatnot were all around her. But, her job demanded her full attention. She did allow herself a few breaks for enjoyment though — but she doubted Lobos spoke of the Gazelle album on her phone when he mentioned culture.
Judy realized that Lobos had continued on, and she happily stayed quiet. "Some time ago, there was some rezoning work being done in many of the districts. There were some really wonderful historic buildings that were…impeding new construction. Made a lot of citizens quite angry, on both sides. Some wanted new and shiny buildings for their neighborhoods, others desired the older charm."
Lobos squinted as he reminisced. Still, his eyes were no less piercing as Judy listened. "Historic architecture is very interesting to me. My main focus is art itself, but architecture is an art form in its own right. Beautiful, thoughtful, it can add to the ethos of a city and —oh, I guess that's a conversation for another time. Anyway, when they asked me to oversee the protection efforts for some of Zootopia's finest and most memorable structures, I had to do it."
He chuckled. An inviting tone, very encouraging. Judy ended up snickering with him for no particular reason. "Guess they liked the work I did. Saved the buildings, got construction running, and came in under budget."
For a few moments, Judy's mind clung to under budget. An interesting choice of words, she thought. Shiny buildings were fine, and she was glad to hear history had been preserved. But what had been the actual costs of his plan? There had been a cost in dollars, certainly; yet, there had been a cost in lives like the little lynx stealing bread for his mother. Had Lobos factored that into his calculus? She felt herself slipping into a hole. Focus, Hopps, her detective mind commanded.
"Mr. Lionheart had been involved in my initial appointment," Lobos continued, "and we worked together on a few buildings that had caught his attention. After that challenge ended, he wanted to get me a seat on his cabinet. They didn't have a slot for me, so he crafted some ad hoc committee and put me in charge."
With a breathy grunt, Lobos rose from his chair. Towering, Judy thought as he stood full-height, almost lording over the two seated officers. He paused for a moment, then he turned and ambled toward the window. "But once he was gone, and his deputy, too…the departures of Lionheart and Bellwether did not leave much faith in any installed public servant. There were many who were practically apoplectic when the thought arose of promoting a member of the Lionheart administration to fill his old post."
He leaned back against the window, the city a panorama behind him. His paw scrabbled at a fold in the turtleneck. "I suppose it is fortunate that I seem to have escaped that stigma. They named me emergency manager for as long as necessary until they could figure out how precisely to stage an election. And so here I am."
She could not count her questions for him. The starry eyes she had been sporting at the outset had cleared as Lobos regaled them with his tale. An active mind had then been set to task. But her questions diverged, split into two warring factions. The officer wanted to know his role with Mansoa and what details he could be hiding. The candidate wanted to know what his buildings had done for creatures like Martin. And who had been the mammals who had named him the manager. The battle in her mind raged as Lobos completed his pacing and sat.
The skirmish in her head happened in a matter of moments, though it felt eternal to her. But, one side did emerge victorious. She cleared her throat. "Well, thank you for that, sir. So, we certainly don't want to keep you. We're sure you're very busy and have plenty of meetings after us. But, we'd like to ask you a few questions about someone who works in your office."
"Of course! Who—"
"Kyle Mansoa." It took her a moment, but she soon realized that Nick had spoken for the first time since they had begun. He had stayed completely silent, save for his chair's squeak as he fidgeted. His comment had been terse; Judy caught the surprise flash across Lobos's bespectacled eyes. Nick usually had a wilier way of getting what he wanted. The tactic change had to be a symptom of boredom, obviously…or was something else guiding him?
"Oh, Kyle." Lobos hummed, a paw buttressing his chin. "Yes, I've worked with him directly several times. Diligent, very dedicated to his work. I remember hearing he hasn't been in office recently. Every one of us is worried about him, you know."
"I'm sure." It appeared that Nick couldn't resist lobbing a touch of bitterness at Lobos. For some reason, restraint obviously wasn't the way Nick wanted to play this. She used her foot to deliver a small but firm kick to the leg of his chair. If he was fazed by it, he didn't show it.
But, it did accomplish its goal. His whole body relaxed, sunk back into his seat. Judy continued. "It's interesting, sir, that you said you remembered hearing about his disappearance. See, we received a tip that you may have information on where he is. Would you care to share everything you know?"
Blunt and direct, Judy figured. They could be shooed from the office at any given moment, and she did not wish to miss her opportunity. Through her peripheral vision, Judy noticed the start of a classic Nick smirk. Perhaps an approval of her method.
"Oh, I don't know how much help I can be. Like I said, I merely knew him fleetingly. Have you considered asking my staff about—"
"They're next." Judy's turn to interrupt. It felt like the temperature in the room was suddenly dropping by a few degrees, but in her ZPD blues, Judy still felt comfortable. She narrowed her eyes looking at Lobos, unleashing the lavender stare that had broken all types of criminals. "But for now, sir, I'd like you to tell me everything you know."
To be fair, Lobos had the look of a concerned employer down pat. However, the honesty from before almost vanished. His eyes bounced between the corners of the room. With the light of the city illuminating his back, Judy could plainly see the twitch manifest in one of his ears. The thump of his tail had disappeared. This all unfolded in a fraction of a second, but expertly honed senses gathered every detail. Really good coffee, Nick.
"You know…" Lobos said, "I do recall him talking once about a favorite place in the Rainforest District. He didn't live there — at least, I don't believe he did — but there was a watering hole out there. What was its name?"
A long hum from Lobos. Judy nearly fell from her seat, dragged to the floor by anticipation. Patience fled. "Sir? The name was…what?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I can't remember. Do ask my assistant, though, on your way out. I remember checking it out last month or so. She'll probably have it on my calendar. Kyle used to brag about spending a few days at a time in that place — I think he had a bit of a weakness for locales like that."
"You seem to know him quite well then, sir." Judy was on the offensive.
Lobos retreated slightly. "Like I said, just in passing, really. We sometimes exchanged a few words when we were reviewing building plans or writing up proposals. Little things like that. Other than that, I'm not really certain what else I can offer."
But Judy knew. "Sir, tell me more about—"
"Mr. Lobos?" That perky voice again. The executive assistant broke in over the laptop's speakers. "The Infrastructure Advisory Committee is gathering in the interior conference room."
"Ah, thank you, Cynthia," he talked to the air. The intercom, built into the laptop, was obviously activated all the time. Judy wondered how long the executive assistant had been listening in.
It was a frustrating, but effective bailout. "I am so sorry to end our time together. Please work with Cynthia on any further questions. And feel free to ask my staff about whatever you'd like. We wish to bring Kyle home safely very much."
Her mind shouted in hunger, demanding to be fed more answers. But, her mouth acted as a diplomat. "Very well then. Thank you for your time, Mr. Lobos. We'll contact you if we need anything else."
With precise movements, Nick and Judy rose in sync from their chairs. The closing pawshake was friendly enough. But, Judy's paw passed over a fine film of perspiration. Lobos's pads were slightly wet. To get him to sweat….
Lobos seemed to pay no heed to his damp paw as the officers pivoted toward the door. As they crossed the room, Lobos's voice followed them. "Of course! And Ms. Hopps, I am looking forward to more conversations with you on the future of Zootopia!"
She turned back and planted her heels into the odd flooring. She hadn't paid attention before, but the hardwood-like substance felt a little springy as she came to a halt. "What's that, sir?"
"Your candidacy, Ms. Hopps. That news has reached these hallowed halls." He let out a small and slightly unnerving chuckle. A dash of…competitiveness, maybe, was also thrown into the mix. "I'm eager to bring our thoughts before the citizens of Zootopia. It should be a strong and interesting campaign season."
She smiled. Friendly, as warm as this room had been upon entry. But beneath it lay the hint of an edge. A competition was indeed underway. "You are correct, Mr. Lobos. And I look forward to it as well."
Nick let the doors seal shut before he spoke again. "Oh yeah. It'll be a real treat."
Judy gave a real grin. "Yep." They started walking. "Before we leave, let's stop by Cynthia's desk."
Nick grumbled his assent. As the pads of their feet plodded along the cold floor, Judy watched Nick. The dampened swing in his limbs. More shuffling in his gait. Hunching over, just a tad. He had stood so straight ever since she had pinned the ZPD badge to his chest.
"You okay, Nick?"
Immediately, Nick rectified every slouch and shuffle. Curious, Judy thought as the smirk returned to his face a few steps from Cynthia's desk.
"Yep. Just can't wait until you beat him."
#
Thanks again for reading! Chapter 4 will begin soon. Best, Euphonemes
