Not much longer now…

He leaned back in his chair, half-lidded eyes scanning the monitors hooked up to cameras hidden in every room of his little underground compound. He finally had almost all of them filled, each of his precious little captives doing exactly what he wanted them to. His gaze switched to the last room, the only one so far that had stayed empty. It would be a few more days before he could fill that one, he still had some things to gather, some plans to finalize.

His ears perked as his phone went off; he whipped his chair around to swipe it off the long table set up against the opposite wall. He smiled when he saw the number onscreen, just one of many mammals he was doing this for. He accepted the call and held the phone to his ear, fighting to keep at least some of the glee out of his voice.

"Hey, good to hear from you," his smile softened to one of pure contentment. "It's been a while."

"I know, I'm sorry, but it's just been busy," her voice grew muffled and stern, he could envision her turning to address one of the rowdy kids he could hear in the background. "Martin, put that down, and Morgan, stop hitting your brother!"

He chuckled, those two were such a pawful. She sighed, her voice light again when she came back to their call.

"Sorry about that, too, those just can't seem to stop causing trouble!"

He chuckled again.

"I can come over and help with them this afternoon," he offered. "I just have a few more things to take care of at the…office."

There was a low, rustling swish, her cheek fur brushing against her phone as she shook her head.

"No, that's alright, I know how busy you are," she paused, then sighed again. "Ryan, Regina, stop encouraging them! Charlie, Cyrus, give Claire back her doll!"

He shook his head, he still couldn't believe she could keep them all straight.

"I'll bring dinner when I come over tonight, it's been too long since I cooked for all of you," he rested his left foot on the edge of his chair and scratched his ankle, damn poison sumac…

"Oh, no, you don't have to," she focused on him again, sounding flustered. He rolled his eyes as she kept trying to spit out excuses; she had always hated admitting when she needed help.

"How long has it been since you've had a full night's sleep?" he asked, going on before she could protest again. "How about any of the chores around the house? You're just one mammal, you can't do it all yourself, and you shouldn't have to!"

His claws scraped against his phone's hard plastic case as he thought about her husband. It wasn't that the guy was a deadbeat or a bad father, he just had to work too much to really be around. It didn't help that his line of work was so inconsistent. But the male couldn't be persuaded to find a more steady job, they'd both already tried a hundred times. He sighed when she tried to stammer out another excuse. He'd never been able to convince her to hire a nanny, either.

"Look, I've only got about an hour left, then I'll stop by the store on my way over," he dragged his claws through the tangled mess between his ears. "I'll make dinner, then help you put the kits to bed, then we really need to talk."

"I don't need any help," she answered harshly, then moved away from the phone to admonish the children again. "Morgan, Regina, leave Claire alone! Don't make me come over there!"

He could see the kids freezing, their eyes wide. They all knew what that tone meant. A week of no dessert, no TV and no going to the park for their Sunday outing. Keep it up and she'd add no story time before bed and no choice but to wear the clothes she picked out, along with being stuck with their least favorite foods for dinner every night. Just like her mother had always done when she'd acted up. The terse silence on her end was broken when she pushed out a loud sigh.

"Fine, I guess I can't stop you," another pause, much shorter this time. "Do you, uh, think you could pick up a few other things for me? I-I can text you the list…"

He laughed again.

"Whatever you need," he shut down the monitors and headed for the door. "I'm just about done here, I should be there in another hour or so."

"Thank you," she wouldn't use his name, just like he wouldn't use hers. "Well, uh, guess we'll see you when you get here, I'll start typing up that list now…"

He smiled fondly, glancing at the table as he passed it. He guessed that could wait another day, it's not like they were going anywhere.

"I just hope the house isn't burnt down when I get there," he flashed a smile when she groaned on the other end. "I'll see you soon, bye!"

"Thank you so much," her gratitude was laced with sarcasm. "Bye-bye now!"

She clicked off. He laughed again as he stuck his phone back in his pocket, his walls going back up the second he stepped outside. Every inch of his body oozed chilled indifference as he walked to his car, a classic VW bus he'd rescued from the scrap yard. It had taken him months to fix it up, after having to spend almost a year learning how to work on cars in the first place. It had more than paid off, though, as he not only had the perfect vehicle for his needs, but a surprisingly lucrative job repairing and restoring vintage cars, allowing him plenty of time for his main passion.

Showing the so-called "normal" mammals of Zootopia and beyond just how closed off their minds still were.

He let the barest hint of a sneer touch his lips as he climbed in the driver's seat. The cherry-red and off-white van both stuck out like a sore thumb and went completely unnoticed, especially now that so many of his other projects were on the city's roads. Just another layer of the perfect cover.

Her list came as he pulled into the parking lot of the local Walrus-Mart and Garden Center, using his stroll to the doors to look it over, his eyebrow quirking upward as he read some of the items.

The kids must've gotten to her phone again, the lightest smile crossed his face. Looked like even that tone of voice wasn't enough to keep them in line for long. Shaking his head, he grabbed the largest size cart he could manage, deciding now would be as good a time as ever to grab some of the components he still needed, the ones that wouldn't rouse suspicion, anyway. Being dragged in for questioning wouldn't do much to help his cause, at least not yet.

Just a few more days, he assured himself. A few more days, then the whole city will finally hear what you have to say. And this time, they're actually going to listen.

Nick looked over the file Allan had given him at Beth & John's, fighting back the thought that he really shouldn't even have it in his paws. The wolf had also forwarded the email Tybalt had sent Fangmeyer, as well as scans of the photos from the last crime scene. There hadn't been any abductions since then, thankfully enough, but the relief in that regard was overshadowed by the apprehension that they still had no idea where to find the mammal responsible, or even the smallest clue as to where they may have hidden the victims.

Tybalt was still looking like a likely suspect, but something in Nick's gut was telling him the mammal wasn't the one. He was batshit crazy, no doubt about that, there was just a small twinge telling him it'd be a good idea to start looking elsewhere for the guilty party, just in case, at least for the moment.

If we were dealing with someone that violent, we would've found bodies by now, at least pieces of them, Nick pushed aside the stale urge to gag. He'd seen so much in his time on the streets, and now that he'd spent most of the day staring at the twisted gallery, he'd become almost completely desensitized to it. He knew Allan and Stephanie had already gleaned just about all that could be from what they had, but he hadn't been able to stop himself from going over it all again and again, taking a microscope to every detail, searching for any cracks that could potentially be used to blow the case wide open. This is way too methodical, too clean.

He set the file down and focused on his laptop, scanning the email and the pictures attached to it. That feeling still niggled at him, that there was just something…off about the whole thing. It had come out of nowhere, supposedly sent by the perp himself, trying to goad them into some kind of game. It just didn't fit with the strange sense of order that surrounded the crime scenes, especially when he brought the photos into it. The amount of blood he supposed was a similarity, but the pictures just seemed too chaotic, almost too "hey look at me I'm crazy" to really be believable. He wouldn't just go and discount them, though, there were still too many unanswered questions to do that yet.

He supposed part of him also didn't want to focus on what it would mean if the photos were indeed connected to the case. No matter how numb he was to the gore in them by now, seeing fully sentient animals instead of birds and fish cut up and stitched together that way would be something else entirely. Something, he was sure, not even most of the hardened criminals they dealt with would be able to stomach. Even mammals who killed others for a living had their limits, after all.

He set the file down and leaned forward, rubbing his paws over his eyes before dragging them down his cheeks. It was starting to look like it'd take some kind of miracle to solve this case, one none of them had the time to wait for.

Who knows what those kids might be going through right now…

He shuddered, deciding he didn't even want to try thinking about it.