Interspecies Relationship Support Network: Tri-Burrows Chapter

by Gabriel LaVedier

The Tri-Burrows may not be a sweeping metropolitan bastion of culture but folks out there still need things, like an organization for folks that love outside their taxonomic category. To that end they've brought the Zootopian network to the Tri-Burrows. Of course... some mammals might not be very happy about that... A Murder, She Wrote style tale of an ever more worldly small town.

6. Case Open

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

Interspecies Relationship Support Network- Tri-Burrow Chapter

Chapter Six: Case Open

By: Gabriel LaVedier

"Sheriff! My family is under attack! Four of my precious children were in danger of burning alive last night! Three of my own flesh and blood and my delicate son-in-law; and before he and my daughter had a chance ta have their own little'uns! Do somethin' of some kinda substance, Sheriff!" Big Daddy Dreyson yelled, through the phone.

Sheriff Beatrix was holding the phone away from her ear, wincing slightly each time the shouting voice cracked the max levels on the phone. "Mr. Dreyson, please, calm yourself. I assure you, we're doing all that we can to handle this situation with all the capability we-"

"Don't you gimme that line! If I want some pap ta hand out ta folk I get Travis ta bamboozle other folks! Don't ya try bamboozlin' me, Sheriff!" Mr. Dreyson chittered. "I know ya ain't doin' enough, ya ain't bustin' any heads! Ya got yer powers, don't ya? Deputize my sons. They'll go crackin' heads and bustin' chops! They'll get yer answers, Sheriff!"

"Mr. Dreyson, we don't go around doing things like that. We find leads and follow the law. Now, I'm going to hang up and get to work on solving this very disturbing and very important case," Beatrix huffed.

"Don't jes hang up on-!"

Beatrix sighed and slumped back into her chair, the wooden swivel chair groaning under the sudden slump and backward push from her body. She was sitting at her desk, an aged thing made of dark wood, with papers and folders neatly settled on the surface. It was tucked into a corner of the rather spacious Tri-Burrows Sheriff Department main office. Given the size of the patrol area, and without a correspondingly high population, it was logical to have the one main office and scattered substations of various sizes.

The whole place was a sort of rustic-chic-meets-post-deco, with a lot of stained wood cut into shapes that imitated suburban designs, along with plastic tile flooring in black and white, a balustrade that looked suspiciously like a white picket fence and furniture that had a lot of vinyl covers in muted primary colors. Breaking the mold were the wall decorations over the Sheriff's head, mounded racks of reindeer antlers, each one carved with different runic designs and highlighted with different colors, each one representing a year of her appointment.

Buck's desk was set across from Beatrix's, which was slightly messier, with stacks of paperwork and some old snack food wrappers. Buck was seated behind it, head shaking lightly after listening to half the conversation. "Old buck Dreyson yapping about the case? We can only work so fast. Money makes some mammals crazy."

"He's not crazy; he's a father. Kind of an intense father, but just a father. He was right, though. Four of his children nearly got burned to death in a probable arson. He has a right to be upset."

Buck tilted his head and started counting on his hooves. "Wait... four... I counted three on the list."

"Will, Jules, Ermintrude and Travis, he even made sure I remembered Travis was 'delicate' and probably needed extra retribution for what happened to him, especially since he and Ermintrude hadn't yet had children."

"Huh... never would have thought of that. He's just an in-law," Buck said with a shrug.

"Still family. He's got a big heart when it comes to family. It's really nice," Beatrix said with a smile. She sighed and picked up a paper. "Still waiting on the lab report, but there was a lot more charring in the areas where I smelled that accelerant. I'm almost positive it's an arson, and an investigator for the company will be by in short order, I'm sure. But that means someone intended to burn a barn full of folks to death. That's something we need to get on top of, because I'm almost certain we can tell why those folks in particular were chosen."

"Fake sympathy, Sheriff, think about it," Buck said. "No one died, barely any injuries, even."

"That was a miracle, by the grace of the sun and earth. Plus, Martin Marten and Gideon Ovine helped to direct and help folks in escaping. No one was in the loft and there was a clean escape route at the front and the fire started at the back. At best, best mind you, the arsonist didn't want to outright murder them but I'd be willing to bet they wouldn't have cared."

"It's a possibility I guess. I just can't shake the feeling that something is off."

"Arson as a crime is off. A professional is a crazy mammal and the amateur is going for the most blunt-force destruction they can get short of dynamite. And it's easy to get hold of stuff that can burn that can be splashed around. Something is bothering you besides that."

"I was sleeping," Buck grumbled. "And it was a good, deep sleep, too."

Beatrix laughed softly and shook her head. "You took the job, you took the responsibility."

"It's the Burrows! Nothing happens in this place! I've lived here my whole life and it's just a dull little place, all full of prey and happy about it. I was happier when things weren't so bustling and citified," Buck huffed.

"Well, that's your opinion," Beatrix said, pulling out another paper from a folder. "We need to question some of the members of the Network. We might pick up some new insights from them. Plus, they might know of some folks that wanted to do them harm. There's always a few bad apples in every windfall."

"In the Burrows? Sure, there are some... mean folks. But they just get drunk and loud. That's all there is here. No one actually believes in hurting folks."

"Don't assume that. Assuming that is how you get blindsided by The Slashy-Smiley Killer. I'm not gonna be that sheriff. I take crimes seriously and never think It can't happen here, because it honestly could," Beatrix said, rising and taking a tranq pistol out of her desk and strapping on a few darts across her waist.

Buck shuddered, pulling a taser from his desk and slipping it into a holster. "You had to remind me of that. How am I supposed to sleep knowing that thing was from here? At least he's in the hoosegow for the rest of his life."

o o o

"So you did the wiring, that's right, Mr. Catmull?" Bobby's business space was like the other cookie-cutter places along the main drag, a storefront with a big glass front window and a utility space upstairs that most folks used as apartments. He had one of the smaller, partitioned, single-occupancy spaces, sharing his building with a small plumbing shop.

The interior was almost like the inside of a music store, hung with the many instruments Bobby could play, with spares, some broken ones, a lot of sound equipment, and photos of events he had been involved with. The sheriff and deputy stood in front of the glass counter, with Bobby behind it. "I wired only the sound system. I looked in on the wiring for the building but only to get it connected to power the sound system. Sharla also worked a little with it, to get the local Wi-Fi working and connect the satellite internet system."

"You don't have your certification. That's worth a ticket at least, especially if your shoddy wiring burned the place down," Buck snorted, tapping on the counter.

"I didn't do any work that required I be certified. Or... I mean, I'm certified for the work I did. I'm up on my qualification to work with sound systems and other electrical amplification devices," Bobby countered.

"We're just here to determine a few things. I'm almost entirely positive your work had nothing to do with it, but we need to know if anything you saw has a bearing on the case," Beatrix said.

"I didn't really notice much. My head was sort of out of it in general and was sort of just listening to the audio mixing. Everyone has their own voice. When it comes out of the speaker it has to be theirs, but polished up. If they talk softly you boost the bass a little to make it more notable. If they're shrill, save your speakers by cutting some treble. Even speeches take a delicate touch. Jenny was on the board, she has the touch. Those long ears of her are perfect. Golden. They pick up the tiniest details in a sound."

"I'd like to at least talk to her, even if she was focused. There's no harm in getting all the perspectives I can," Beatrix noted.

"Well... alright. I..." Bobby sighed, and motioned for the officers to follow him. He led them outside and around back, to the stairs up to the living area. "She's been pretty shaken up. She's just taking a day, playing her harp, writing a little something for herself."

The home space was just like most of the main drag homes of Bunnyburrow, a large central room with attached kitchen, and doors to the bathroom and bedroom. Jenny was sitting on the second-paw couch, slightly huddled up. Her hooves deftly worked the strings of her small harp, and she sang with a low voice, at the level of the soft strings.

"The King gave a smile and held his son near.

He kissed his head proudly to quell his dark fear.

'Oh father, my father, I know what to do,

But father, my father, I'm nothing like you.

I know of the form and how it must look,

But I never took time to learn from the book.

I thought that I knew but still had to ask.

I could not, alone, take on this great task.'

The King raised his head and looked in his eyes

And spoke light and low to not seem to chastise.

'Now son, my dear son, I know you are wise

You never will falter in your father's eyes.

He who goes alone will end in disgrace,

But who seeks help of others gains a noble place.'"

Bobby softly kissed Jenny on one ear and purred deeply. "Hey, that's beautiful, dear."

Beatrix had been preparing her notepad but slipped it back into her pocket and nodded to the two. "I'm terribly sorry to have bothered you both. Miss Thicket, I hope you have a speedy recovery from anything that may have happened. You sing and play beautifully."

"Uh, yeah, yeah, good... uh... bye..." Buck followed Beatrix out, looking utterly confused. "What was that, Sheriff? You didn't even ask her a question."

"Didn't have to. Did you hear the song? You remember what Sharla said, Bobby'd die before he put Jenny in danger. We all kept speculating that he had his father come in and give his wiring job a look, and, being Ol' Tom Catmull, he checked the whole barn for free, probably giving some excuse about making sure all the connections were solid. And Bobby would come along to see how it all was supposed to look. He'd check out every inch of that place, every time. He'd know if there was overt sabotage. That seals it. It can't be electrical, which would have been cruelly clever. Splash on the accellerant, and just wait for the electrical fire to set it off."

"Why can't this be easy?" Buck lamented.

"If it was easy we'd be out of a job. Not that I wouldn't prefer that, but as long as we have crimes, we have to solve them, and fast," Beatrix said, sliding into the cruiser. "We should see to the Dreysons, at some point. But let's head to Weaselton's first."

"Weaselton?" Buck asked, dropping into his seat. "What's Old Hob Weaselton got to do with this?"

"His daughter's on the list. Lone-jilling, I'm guessing," Beatrix said, putting the car into gear and driving the short distance to the shop. "I heard she caught a yelling from her father before."

"Think he'd go... very far? Angry weasel, he can get a little hot under the collar," Buck noted.

"He'll work up a weasel war dance very rarely but he's one of the more stable citizens around here," Beatrix replied pulling in to the small parking lot.

"Welcome to Weaselton's Wares. We're not new, we're not improved, we're not rearranged. Why mess with..?" Meister halted his rote speech on noticing who had come in. "Oh, hello there Sheriff, deputy. Come in to pick up some protein powder and tinned fish? Got plenty of both. We can't always eat at the Martens' place."

"Protein powder and tinned..? What in the glorious sun's name do you mean?" Buck asked.

"Not today, Meister, we're on official business right now. Understand you threw a little woozle at your daughter over a bit of lone-jilling," Beatrix said, taking out her pad and pencil.

"Ah, I try to be sensible with that jill, especially with her mother being gone. She isn't a bad jill, she's just willful and stubborn. Heh, takes after her mother like that."

"Just how mad can you get, Meister? She won't mind you, and you warned her, a lot," Buck said. "You don't strike me as the kind, Meister, but being all on your own can make a mammal want a lot of respect."

"It's hard, yes. But I don't care how much she disrespects me. She's still my daughter, and she still means all the moon to me. I'm just glad she was safe."

"Is she here today, taking stock or something?" Beatrix asked. "We're interviewing everyone that could have had any insights."

"It's just me, today. She's at home, getting her head on. The Hopps buck is there with her, probably catering to her every whim. Hard worker, that one, but he just goes along with what she says, even off the clock. I'm not going to fire him if he doesn't tend to her, but he just wants to, I guess. One of those always-active types like Mr. Marten."

"The Hoppses seem to breed those, just look at Judy," Beatrix mumbled, scribbling out a few more notes before flipping her book closed. "I'd ask more but... I think we both know why we were here, and there's no reason to go on from here."

"I couldn't hurt her, Sheriff, never mind all those others. Good mammals, all of them. I might chitter and dance and maybe I can be a woozle once in a blue moon. But I can't be just plain mean."

"That's why we're on our way. Take care, Meister. I'll be around to pick up supplies later on this week," Beatrix said, walking back out onto the street with a sigh. "We've got more dead ends than a cemetery."

"Fish and protein powder?" Buck asked. "I get it, you want to bulk up, good strategy in law enforcement but fish?"

"Not the time for it. Let's plan something out. I say we hit the Dreysons tomorrow, on our way out into Squirrelburrow. I noticed that Travis didn't open today. Not surprised, Jaguar and Dr. Arctos are probably taking a day. I can smell that Gideon is open, so we'll go there, then the Real Estate company to talk to the O'Pogos, out to the Marten's shop, then bother the lab about results."

The two cervids strolled up the street and pushed open the door to Gideon Ovine's Real Good Baked Stuff, wrapping them in the warm scent of freshly-baked pastry and the symphony of sweet and savory fillings. An odd note had been added to the usual mix, the scent of fish and insects mingling with the fruits and vegetables. The store was oddly empty, only Gideon and Kenneth talking at the front counter.

"I'll have two of the paw-held pasties, one radish and one with that new fish aspic you started using," Kenneth said in a slightly subdued tone. "And I'll take two big wedges of pie, one with plum and blueberry with a slice of cheese melted on the top, and one with carrots and the lemon goop."

"Lotta food fer one bunny. Takin' some fer yer kin?" Gideon asked, deftly cutting the wedges required, carrying one into the back.

"It's too quiet. The office is closed, Sylvia's doing her own thing, the bosses are taking care of their own matters. Food seems like a good way to brings some pep back to life. I'm taking some to Jake, he probably needs a good meal while he's helping out Princess Weaselton."

"Well, that's jes how he is, lotta good in him what with... oh, Sheriff, jes a second..." Gideon came back around to the front, carrying the pie slice with cheese lightly bubbling on top. He packed it in a box, along with the other pie wedge and the pasties. He rang up the total, took the money and waved as Kenneth left the shop. "So what can I do for ya both?"

"Well, you've had a good night's sleep, gotten your head together, you seem to be working and open, maybe you thought of something else. We were in the area and figured we ought to see," Beatrix said.

"I know ya got yer job, Sheriff, but I really don't got any new ideas. Maybe I'm jes too simple, but I didn't see nothin' but everyone escapin'. And I helped them out," Gideon said, leaning on the counter, one ear occasionally twitching in the direction of the kitchen.

"Most of the others are taking the day off. You're here, working hard and seems you made something new, if that fish smell is anything to go on," Buck noted.

"The Church tells us our toil makes the Sun and Earth mean more. The Sun shines on good days and bad, it's there shinin' behind rainclouds and on the other side of the Earth at night. And the Earth holds up our paws and cradles our food no matter what kinda day it had. I'd be squanderin' a gift if I didn't focus and carry on, an' work on new things that I said I would," Gideon explained.

"Aurinko ja Maa siunatkoon sinua, Gideon," Beatrix said, nodding her antlered head. "You really understand. That therapy really put your head on right."

"Maybe, maybe I just don't work right upstairs... don't tell Sharla I said that, but it's true. Little slow, but she's right that I get there sooner or later," Gideon said with a smile. "Can I get ya anythin'? Can't imagine bein' in here smellin' all this goodness is easy to take."

"That fish smell..." Buck shook his head a little and huffed. "It interrupts the usual smell but you're the best. Let me have a timothy tart. Anything with fescue back there?"

"Sorry, not today. I know it's popular but the fruit and vegetables have a bigger audience. Sharla's a browser too, so I think I know what ya got a taste for. Sheriff?"

"I'll have the same. Do you have any candied juniper berries or lingonberry sauce? Maybe reindeer lichen, while I'm asking?"

"Ain't got the lichen, don't have the connections for that kinda thing, but I've got both. I keep candied juniper jes fer you, Sheriff, and I love me some lingonberries. If I could get a better supply I'd make more with em but the Hoppses have got their paws full, the Dreysons don't do shrubbery and the Seedcache farm... Mr. Seedcache don't like doin' business with me," Gideon said, packing the indicated treats into paper bags, adding some shakes of crystalline juniper berries from a jar and a drizzle of a thick, red syrup over the second pastry he packed. "Thanks fer the business."

"Get a bigger vent in here. I know aromas are your selling point but fish is a little jarring for most prey," Buck noted as he paid for his tart. He took a big bite and wagged his ears happily. "That's the stuff."

"You get used to it. Change is good sometimes," Beatrix noted, paying for her food and taking a smaller bite. "Ahhh, just like when I visited my grandparents. It's an acquired taste but candied things aren't a hard sell, are they?"

Gideon chuckled softly. "No ma'am. I can candy anythin' and it sells like flapjacks. I throw together one mean panettone, now that I know what it is, and my friends jes eat it up. Maybe gonna sell em 'round Solstice time like they do in Lombardy. Ya might think that citrus peel weren't good eating but stick it in enough sugar syrup and it gets there."

"I know it. Mummi made something like it every year and even when I couldn't go she sent me a nice, big wedge just so I didn't miss out," Breatrix said, a smile on her face. "Thank you, Gideon." She and Buck stepped out of the shop, still eating. "You'd better be ready for more fish, we do have to talk to the Martens after we see the O'Pogos."

"Speaking of fish..." Buck started, mouth still slightly full.

"You can ask all you want, but unless I feel like saying anything you're just wasting your breath, and making a mess. I thought country folks learned manners."

Buck caught himself and quickly finished crewing his mouthful. "It's just an odd thing to do is all. I mean, often enough that old hob Weaselton knows you need it."

"We all keep things private. I know you think fangs are fascinating, tusks too. You certainly read a lot of magazines with warthog ladies on the cover, and that one library book about sabertoothed rabbits made more than a few appearances."

"I have a variety of varied interests," Buck huffed. "Anyhow, what can we ask that we don't already know? Witnesses aren't likely to be helpful if everyone was inside."

"It's the subtleties that matter. A sound, a smell, maybe noticing some things that got washed away by the firefighters. We won't know what's relevant until we gather all the data and sift through it. Maybe we don't always go so far, but this is a special case. Arson is bad enough but it was a barn full of mammals, and much as you might dismiss the idea it seems probable they were targeted for a very particular reason, and that is plain unacceptable. We're going to hit this case as hard as we possibly can and get justice for those folks. Nothing less will do," Breatrix said with great firmness, turning into the real estate office and casting her eyes around for Pepper or Zeke O'Pogo.

"Sheriff, thought you might be by," Pepper said, without her usual energy. She emerged from her cubicle followed by her husband, who seemed similarly off. "It's kind of a downer day today."

"Wouldn't blame you for not coming in at all, Pepper. Some of the folks didn't. What brought you and the mister in today?" Beatrix asked.

"I'd like to say the Peaceground way. Maybe a little but it's a hard reality to face, I need to be here," Pepper sighed. "I don't get paid for doing nothing. I get paid when I sell property. Zeke too. But really... plenty and prosperity have to come by some means. Our bounty comes by our hard work. Peace and plenty only arrive when we make the effort and do something."

"We're not complaining but a rest wouldn't be bad," Zeke sighed. "I wish we could be of some help but it's a little rushed around here today. We're helping each other with the little things because Rob's out."

"Out? What do you mean out?" Beatrix asked.

"He didn't show up for work. Probably ended up taking the day off just in solidarity or something. At least that what he'd say," Pepper said. "Don't spread it around too far but Rob's not what you'd call really motivated. He's no Kenneth or Judy or Jake. The Hopps hop skipped him I think. He works well enough but he's not exactly a superstar."

"He probably slept in and just went with it. Good sleep is tempting like that," Buck said with particular emphasis.

"Your implication is noted and slightly annoying, deputy," Beatrix said with a light chuckle. "I do still want to know if you noticed anything, anything at all. A smell, a sound, anything before that, like more pressure or hostility toward the group or anyone in it."

"There's always anonymous cowards leaving notes and such, calling us unnatural and evil. It's gotta be the same mammal every time," Pepper stated. "Travis keeps those just in case there's something that can be done with them; it sounds like we've got purists in these parts."

"Purists? Those don't exist in civilized society. That's a crazy idea for crazy mammals, somebody they'd lock up at Imboca Bay," Buck insisted.

"Outside of town, isolated, everyone distracted, sounds like the kind of situation a cowardly purist would exploit. This is some good stuff," Beatrix said. "We'll let you get back to work. Tomorrow we can see Travis about these letters when we pop by the Dreyson place. This has a lot of potential. If there is some deranged purist out there we might just have our firebug."

"Sweet sun-kissed earth... we got another Slashy-Smiley killer. Came right out of nowhere, right in the Burrows," Buck half-whispered, a distant look in his eyes.

"They haven't killed anyone yet but sun and earth knows they tried. Tried to out-do that crazy savage in one shot, but didn't make it. We'll see how this goes. Just one more stop before we can head back. Tomorrow we need to see about out-of-town stuff, contact some of the other deputies at the substations. Get all the sleep you need tonight, Buck. Tomorrow we really get into the hard work."

Author's Notes

The Sheriff Station Decor- This is subtle, but I wanted the rustic Americana and tile floors to subtly evoke a bit of Twin Peaks because I enjoy that show very much. A quirky small town filled with odd characters. I considered a Northern Exposure reference but that would have been a bit tougher to make.

Old this, Old that- I may be overdoing it a bit, but fathers/old heads of families in rural settings seem to have the appellation "Old" applied to them, to differentiate them from younger folks, especially sons that might have the same name. Here, they also add the common animal term. So no, Bobby's father isn't named Tom, he is a tom, a tomcat. Hob is one term I found for a male weasel, like jill is for a female.

Weasel War Dance- Just look this up on YouTube. It's adorable.

Woozle- A Cute-level word that weasels are mostly okay with others using as they can use the comment for reflection and self-improvement, as it usually only gets used by folks when they act in a negative way.

Cheese on pie- It's a thing. An East Coast thing, apparently. I first saw it when Amos Tupper ordered apple pie with melted cheese in an episode of Murder, She Wrote.

Imboca Bay- This is a callback to "The Translation of Dawn Bellwether". While set in an slightly alternate timeline major things are the same, like institutions and inhabitants. Imboca Bay is the name of a high security asylum for the insane. Spoiler alert, but after Doug is arrested he's sent there for being an unfeeling sociopath.