"So how do we play this?" Judy asked Nick.

They were standing near their patrol car, parked discreetly a block or so away from the intersection of Mouston and Rose. The area was very much on the border of respectability- but still just on the wrong side of it. A few pedestrians walking by gave them askance glances, their eyes lingering on the uniforms and marked patrol car. "Well," said Nick, after looking around. "He's got a few traffic warrants, so the best bet is to arrest him and interview him at the station."

"He won't talk to us without arresting him?"

Nick shook his head. "Not Lucky. He's been down a few times, and he's got a reputation to consider. If we get him downtown, away from his comfort zone, he may talk. Out here, not so much."

"Okay," said Judy. "So how do we arrest him?"

"Good cop, bad cop?"

"What is it with you and good cop, bad cop? That tactic has been outdated for thirty years."

"I've always wanted to be the bad cop."

"Nick, we're probably a quarter his size. I don't think he'll be intimidated."

"Okay, so you think of something."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Tavi's patrol car screamed down the road, the lights flashing.

"Out of the way, out of the way," she muttered as her cell phone rang. A driver saw her lights and slammed on the brakes, forcing Tavi to swerve. Finally, Clawhauser's voice came over the cell-phone.

"Hello?"

"Clawhauser!" said Tavi in relief. "I need the address to Hunter's house. I know it's somewhere in Savannah Square, but I don't know exactly where."

"Uh, Tavi, you know I can't give that information out without permission."

"It's an emergency!" She took a corner, her tires screeching as she whipped around the intersection.

"Well, um, maybe I should talk to Wolferd."

Tavi winced. "Uh, he's not here."

There was a pause. "It sounds like you're driving," said Clawhauser carefully.

"He's fine, I left him with the crazy guy."

"What?"

"-and an ambulance crew, I should have mentioned that part first. Look, Hunter may have been exposed to Night Howler. I need to check on him and make sure he's okay. Please give me the address? I'll take the heat for it later."

She could almost hear the cheetah's indecision. Finally, he spoke. "Okay, give me a second and I'll give it to you. I hope you know what you're doing, rookie."

"I hope I'm not too late," said the mongoose.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I'm telling you, the 'good cop, bad cop' thing is too far outdated! Everyone expects it now!"

Judy's voice carried over the rather muted noise in the bar as the two officers walked in. Everyone stared at them.

Nick rolled her eyes. "It was in the manual they taught us from at the academy."

"Is that the same manual that has the illustration of the officer using a rotary telephone? And has a chapter extolling the virtues of the new radio-equipped cars?"

The two cops seemed oblivious to the nervous stares of the bar's clientele. They walked further into the bar, both focused on one another. "Yeah, but police work is still police work." They walked towards the bar.

"Sure, but some things have changed."

The bartender exchanged puzzled looks with some of his patrons, and raised his voice to address the two quarrelling officers. "Can I help you?"

"Maybe if you spent more time actually trying to read the streets instead of reading books,' said Nick sarcastically, "you'd understand that the old tricks are old because they work."

"And maybe if you had been a bit more focused on reading books," returned Judy, her voice raising slightly, "you would have read one called the Tax Code."

Nick growled slightly and stuck out a leg, tripping Judy. She fell to the ground next to a booth, the one-eyed tiger occupying it gaping in surprise.

"Um, what's going on? Can I help you with something?" asked the bartender again, his voice slightly nervous. The mammals in the bar watched interestedly.

"Sure," said Nick, as Judy scrambled to her feet, glaring at him. "We're looking for Lucky."

Immediately, every eye in the bar moved away from the two cops. The bartender shrugged. "Don't know him."

"Oh?" said Judy, her voice innocent. She turned to look at the one-eyed tiger who was trying to look inconspicuous in the booth next to them. "Because he's sitting right there."

With a surprised yowl, the tiger leapt from the booth. Or tried to, until he fell flat on his face. Lucky looked back in shock, seeing the manacle connecting his ankle to the base of the table at the booth.

Judy looked down at him, looked at Nick. "Okay, I gotta admit, the 'pretend you tripped so you can manacle the crook to his table' trick worked pretty well," said Nick.

"It's not traditional, but it worked. Although we need to come up with a catchier name."

"What the hell is this?" growled the tiger.

Both cops looked down at him. "Oh, right," said Judy. "You're under arrest for traffic warrants. Are you going to come quietly, or do I have to cuff you to other things in the room?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Tavi pulled the patrol car up in front of a small house. She wasn't sure what to expect from Hunter's house, but the small, white-siding one-story with the immaculate lawn wasn't quite it. It looked far too normal. Worriedly, she noted that his car was missing from the driveway.

She knocked at the door anyway. Not surprisingly, there was no answer.

"Okay," she said out loud. "I think this counts as exigent circumstances, so I can force entry."

Easier said than done. Larger mammals could have probably kicked in the door. That left windows.

Tavi picked up a rock and looked around nervously. She wasn't sure what the neighbors would think if they saw her throw a rock through the window- she was in uniform, and there was a marked patrol car nearby, but still. Cops don't usually smash windows with rocks to make entry.

Well, if they called police then she'd have back-up. She threw the rock through the window.

After glancing around again- no one seemed to have noticed the glass breaking, though perhaps she just didn't see them, she moved up and cleared away the shards of glass still on the pane with her baton. Then, she threw her jacket over the sill to provide some protection from the glass and slipped inside.

She found herself on a couch- now partially covered with broken glass- inside a living room. Tavi jumped down from the couch and looked around.

The room was clean, almost sterile- it looked almost like a model home, except for the comparative lack of furniture. Besides the couch, there was an end-table, a stand with an inexpensive flat-screen television on it, and a small bookshelf. It was vaguely surprising- Hunter was by no means a slob, but Tavi would not have pictured him in this sort of Spartan environment.

Which reminded her that if he was here, she should let him know. Surprising a police officer in his home was a quick way to get yourself killed. "Hunter!" she called, her voice surprising her with its faintness. She tried again, shouting more loudly. "Hunter! It's me, Tavi! Are you home?"

There was no answer. Tavi hesitantly walked further into the house.

The kitchen was similarly clean and sparsely appointed, with little more than a small kitchen table designed for no more than two mammals. The only thing that seemed extraneous was a large cabinet, which she quickly determined held various liquor, though leaning towards whiskey. She noted that most of them were only partially full.

She spotted some mail on the kitchen table. Telling herself that she was looking for clues (and not just being stereotypically inquisitive for a member of the weasel family) she glanced through it. She paused as she found one open envelope, the letter folded with it.

"Child support payment?" she read in disbelief. "Hunter has kids?"

She froze, half-expecting Hunter's dry voice to say something witty and vaguely threatening, but there were still no sounds other than her quiet footsteps.

She decided to check the bedrooms.

The first looked to be the master bedroom. Tavi noted Hunter's belt hanging on a hook apparently designed for that purpose, and a quick glance in his closet showed it to be roughly halfway divided between civilian clothes and uniforms, all neatly pressed and hanging up. Idly, she wondered whether Hunter deliberately rumpled his uniforms before coming to work. She wouldn't put it past him.

So far, other than the surprise of finding out Hunter apparently had children back on AlphaCen, there had been little of anything to indicate what was going on with her friend and mentor.

Until she reached the last bedroom.

She opened the door, expecting a guest bedroom- though, she considered, she wasn't aware of Hunter ever having anyone over to visit. Even when he went out with his friends from the station, he generally went to their homes or out to a restaurant or bar. So it wasn't a complete surprise when she realized the second bedroom had been converted to a study.

What shocked her was the complete difference between the study and the rest of the house. A desk with a computer was set up against one wall, a worn computer chair against it. On the other side of the room, a folding table was set up, with modelling supplies scattered across it. A half-finished model of what Tavi tentatively identified as a human starship lay on newspaper spread across the table. Paintbrushes and bottles of paint were neatly arranged in a wooden rack.

What caught her real attention, however, was not that Hunter apparently had a surprisingly geeky hobby. Tavi's eyes widened as she looked at a large bulletin board across one wall. On it were posted newspaper clippings, print-outs of articles and research papers, and photographs which mostly appeared to be from newspapers or on-line sources. Handwritten notes were dotted across the large board, which looked to her much like the ones used by investigators in large, complex cases.

She moved closer, seeing one article from a Zootopian newspaper entitled "Humans Send Scientific Exchange Team". There were several photographs of the members of the team- one was circled, and Tavi recognized the man that Hunter had punched and threatened. "Lucas Jaeger," she read.

She looked further. There were several articles about Jaeger, but she saw several printed out incident reports from ZPD. All missing mammals, she noted, including the ones Judy and Nick were investigating. Hunter had highlighted the locations and dates of the incidents, and a handwritten note tacked to one read, "All mentally ill- motive, vulnerability, vic. profile?"

A string tacked onto this note connected it to another article, this one a profile pulled from an Alpha Centauri publication that listed the curriculum vitae of scientists- in this case, Lucas Jaeger's. The profile listed Jaeger as a premier "biochemical neuropsychologist" which was something that made little sense to Tavi. It sounded as if someone had taken several specialties and mashed them together.

Then she spotted another article, tucked away almost in a corner.

"Serial Killer Executed" it read. She read the article, then looked at the mug shot of the serial killer- the one that Hunter had caught during his time on First Landing. The photograph was circled in red.

In large words underneath it, Hunter had written, still in red. "THIS ISN'T HIM."

Below that, there was another picture of Dr. Lucas Jaeger. In marker next to it, "HE'S HERE. HOW?"

Tavi swallowed and reached for her cell phone.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Author's Note: So I had kind of an interesting day at work. Without going into too much detail, there was a problem, my solution was, um, innovative, and while it all worked out it's unclear if the higher-ups are going to commend me, discipline me, or possibly both. So there's a bit of stress, which is going to have an impact on my ability to be funny. So the updates may be a bit slower on this particular weekend than usual, as I'm having to work twice as hard to get into the proper mindframe for humor. Hopefully things will be cleared up by next week or so.

In the meantime hopefully this will resolve at least partially what's going on. I have a really awesome climax planned out for this arc, by the way, so something to look forward to.