By the end of the day, this whole case officially became Judy's most hated one. While most of her colleagues took it lightly, even joking about the situation, (Which Judy was really grateful for) quite a few officers were becoming really upset for getting accusations. The rabbit tried to be as subtle as possible, but after a while, everyone knew her intentions.

Right now she was staring at her notes, not connecting anything. When she had to start over a page for the 10th time she sighed and tossed this little notebook onto the table.

Her shift has already ended about half an hour ago but she felt like she made no progress whatsoever and she hated one thing more than making no progress. Making no progress, and ending her shift. She usually felt useless that way, no matter how many times Nick told her to ease up a little bit, and tomorrow will be another day.

She rubbed her eyes and finally got off the chair. There was one more thing she wanted to do before leaving the building since there was one more NRS, that belonged to their beloved receptionist, AKA Clawhauser. She picked up the promised doughnuts and headed to the desk.

"Here's what I promised." She placed the box on the table.

"Judy, Oh my god, I love you, you are the best!" The cheetah gave a grateful sigh, and opened the box, immediately taking a bite from one of the round sweets

"You're welcome." The rabbit chuckled. "Hey umm… I thought I should ask…"

"Dispatch! We have our first hotshots in sight! I'm Code 3." Can be heard from the radio.

"Mmh." Clawhauser quickly swallowed the bite he was chewing on and pushed the button. "2-33, keep us updated. Units streetwise, we have multiple racing parties going at high speed, stand by for further description." He released the button and made another big bite "Hmm phorry did you fay fometfin?"

"Yeah, I uh…" She felt guilty for even bringing this up. Clawhauser wouldn't do anything like that. But she had to ask. It will be just a stupid explanation again. I hate this. She thought and took a huge breath. "You had an NRS on May 17th. Can you tell me why?"

"Dispatch! 2-12 here, assisting ongoing code 3, leaving my position."

"Understood." the Cheetah pushed the button again. "2-34, and 2-36, you are close to the ongoing chase and can get ahead of the racing parties, try the boxing maneuver on one of the suspects. Spike traps are yet to be authorized, stand by for further instructions, and keep us updated." He turned to Judy again. "Sorry, what was that again?"

"An NRS. You… You've had one on May 17th?"

"What? No, I didn't!" Clawhauser furrowed

"Yes, you did look!" Judy pointed at the name 'Benjamin Clawhauser, which had NRS written below with big red letters.

"I never… I… didn't…" He slowly took the paper and stared at his name like it was just some hallucination

"Dispatch, 2-12 here, racers are separated. Waiting for instructions."

The Cheetah was still staring at the Red letters. Almost like they had a hypnotizing power over him. He seemingly didn't hear anything.

"Uhh, Dispatch? Do you copy?"

"Y-Yes 5 by 5. Sorry, can you repeat that?" Clawhauser finally managed to look away from the red letters.

"Racers are on the move. They have parted apart and not stopping."

"Uh ah… Go for… go for the one you are the closest to." He finished and looked at the paper again.

"Ookay…" The unsure answer came from the comms. "Suspect is in a Black Mercedes, not a first-timer."

Clawhauser quickly turned to his computer and started typing with record speed to check something. And when he saw what he didn't want to, his eyes widened even more. "There is no way…" He started but couldn't finish his sentence. He constantly opened and closed his mouth.

"Are you sure it wasn't you?"

"Yes! I… I'm taking care of my entries since Bogo made me do the yearly checkups. I… It wasn't me."

"Then who was it?" Judy asked curiously. "Who could get your card this easily?"

"Anyone! One second I don't look… I…"

"Hey, calm down! We have security footage too, right? I bet I can catch that thief."

"We wipe the footage every 2 months." He waved and sighed. "I'm in big trouble, aren't I?"

The old, abandoned construction site on the outskirts of Savanna Central usually stayed abandoned. It used to be a government-funded project and was planned to be a huge office complex. However as problems came up with other projects, the government decided to cut funds from the office's construction. When things stabilized, other problems came up. First, the company that had been originally assigned to do this had gone bankrupt and the second one turned out to be a fraud that stole millions of dollars from other projects.

They were already years behind schedule and the missing money didn't help either. So the project got placed on a waiting list and had been there for 20 years, giving a place for vandalism. It slowly got to the point where it would cost less to start from scratch, than fixing the vandalized parts.

While it was a horrible sight to look at, it was a perfect place for practicing if you'd like to be unseen. While a Mustang was speeding through a DIY racetrack, made out of cones, and whatever building material they found, a vixen was sitting on a concrete block and was waiting with a stopwatch in her paws. When the car passed the line, the vixen clicked the watch and looked at the results. However, she wasn't pleased with it.

"Was this better?" Nick asked after getting out of his car but to his disappointment, he just received a head shake. "Oh come on, I copied exactly what you've shown me!"

"No." She sighed. "You TRIED to copy my driving style with more or less success." She stood up and started pointing around. "1st corner… You lost too much speed, everyone with a slight knowledge would have passed you. Seconds of lost time. There! Another second, that you've never got back. I won't even comment on your hairpin turn. You were unsure of how to even approach it. Again! Impress me!"

Nick rolled his eyes and sat back into the car. He was so sure he made a good time on his previous lap. "Last time I tried impressing vixens was 10 years ago and for completely different reasons." He muttered and started up the engine again. He pressed the clutch and pushed the gas pedal while trying to maintain the RPM around 4000. When he got the starting signal, he released the clutch and growled frustratedly as the wheels spun out before getting a better grip. He could already hear the unimpressed summarisation of his start 'You lost a VALUABLE tenth of a second by spinning out your tires! If you'll do this every time, don't be surprised after getting 4th on big races!'

He tried to take the first corner as quickly as possible, but he had to push the brakes to keep himself from spinning out. He shook his head and picked up the speed again. He was making mistakes on top of mistakes again. Maybe it was because he had been there practicing for about 3 hours now.

He did take a few corners perfectly, but those won't make up for the 'Time lost' at the start. As he kept on thinking about his horrible first part, he became more and more reckless, to be at least somewhat productive, and to his surprise, it worked out just well. He took corners after corners with remarkable speed and had good line keeping, just until he reached their last 'turning back' hairpin turn.

He was so sure he had it, but his speed turned out to be too much for that. He tried taking it on the 'ideal line' as it was referred to, but his momentum just took him further, hitting the cone out of its original place, and he stopped meters away from their planned racetrack.

Nick gave an angry shout and hit the steering wheel, while the dust settled behind him. He got carried away again and it resulted in a nice little spinning out. If it was a real race he would have probably wrecked his car, and his bones too.

He was just sitting there for a few minutes. He wasn't really in the mood for getting another negative comment on his horrible driving. Maybe this is just too hard for him, and maybe he should just go back to chasing the racers, instead of trying to be one.

"Well, that was something..." Nick heard the door opening and saw the vixen sitting next to him "You had a nice split time in the middle section, I'll give you that but… well threw it all out through the window with this last move on the hairpin left. Great driving overall."

"'Great driving?' Are you serious?" Nick asked in disbelief. "You have been literally giving me the 'get better' speech for the past 4 hours and you say 'great driving' when I theoretically wreck the car? I don't know about you, but in my book, that's a fail just like the previous 100 tries."

"Let's just rest it for tonight, shall we?" she sighed "And… I might have been going too hard on you."

"Well, can't blame you," Nick said. "I would do the same if it was my future money on the line."

"Look, you definitely have the basics, and with a bit more practice, you will become better too, that's it. Racing is art and has its beauty. With a bit more practice, you will be able to do beautiful things too. In 2 or 3 months you will be the next Allen Saw."

"Yeah would be nice…" Nick said absent-mindedly while looking at the squashed cone, he drew over "Can I ask something? Well… It kinda gets in the 'Rule 2' category, but I'm curious."

"Breaking another rule huh? What? Next time you will comment on my music taste too"

"Now, that's a rule I know not to mess with." He chuckled.

"You can have 1 question, on 1 condition. I get to ask something too."

"We have a deal, miss!"

"So? What is that rule-breaking question you have?"

Gathering his thoughts, Nick sat there for a few seconds "Is there a particular reason you are into racing this much?"

"Really? Did you waste your question on that?" She grinned. "Yes, there is a reason. What an easy answer."

"Come on you won't get away with this that easily. You know how I meant it."

"OH! You want the full story! Well, deal is a deal I guess." She shrugged and thought for a bit of her answer" I can mainly thank my car-loving personality to my father. At least the mechanic part. The love for racing came right after this. I started small, with go-karts, and later went for amateur races too, on supervised racetracks. I was fairly good. Wasn't the best of course, but wasn't the worst either. Now, doing the same on the streets is an entirely new feeling… No supervised tracks, you are entirely on your own and can trust only your skills. I would love to do this daily, but… you know… it's also illegal. So it would be nice to do it professionally, but also would be nice to not get in jail. That's it. I hope my answer was fulfilling enough." She finished. "Well, my turn with the question."

"Let's hear it then." He knew it wasn't the full story. Aside from sniffing out a lie from miles, he was also good at detecting half-truths, and it was definitely in that category.

"So, what is your job? What do you do for a living?"

Oh boy, what do I answer? Nick thought to himself. He definitely can't say police officer, but the pawpsicle business was way too long ago, and he won't have any proof to his 'lie' Well, in worst case scenario he would just ask Finnick to back him up, and make some pawpsicle ASAP

Picking up on his hesitation, the Vixen added "I mean, it can't be worse than selling ice cream."

"Well, it's kinda funny, because… I do sell ice cream."

"Wait. Really?"

"Yeah…" He chuckled nervously. "It's called Pawpsicle, 2 dollars each, and tastes delicious."

"How come we've never met before?"

"Well, my target customers are mainly... lemmings and smaller animals. Would sell it in little Rodentia too, if they'd let anyone in. Trust me, I tried WAY too hard getting a pass there, but no. It's just a taboo for bigger animals. Those little bastards are free to come outside, but nobody is allowed inside."

"Hold up… So THAT'S why you spotted my expired license right away! I knew it! Nobody is ever looking at it, yet you saw it immediately."

"Yep. Most of the mammals wouldn't even care if your paper was signed with a crayon. But when someone knows what to watch… You can get in a few awkward situations."

"You tell me..."

Glancing at the fuel tank level sensor Nick grimaced. "Do you know how I could refuel without being seen? This car is slurping petrol like an elephant does water, and all gas station camera recordings get sent straight to the ZPD." Realizing he shouldn't know this information he added. "At least I think so, and I wouldn't like to take chances." He said, and looked at the vixen in the corner of his eyes, hoping his instructor didn't pick up on his misstep.

"Sure! I have a friend I can hook you up with. He is a bit 'Follow the rules' type, but he owes me big time. I think I can talk him into helping you, he already helps with my refueling. I'll navigate you there."