8
"I don't understand why you're so confused by this, Carrots."
"I'm not confused," said Judy defensively. They had reached the station in record time, thanks to Nick using the siren and several driving tricks he had learned from his friend Flash. Initially, Nick's speediness had stemmed from his desire to interview the mole as soon as possible. But halfway back, Judy had started putting clues together, and now all Nick wanted was to find a distraction for her too-quick mind.
The front doors to the station whooshed open, emitting a small herd of rattled-looking antelope in their late teens who all had the same mortified expressions of first-time offenders who had just gotten their flanks handed to them by Chief Bogo.
They were too busy making a quick exit to notice the smaller officers entering ahead of them. Judy hopped right while Nick dodged left, the two reuniting in the lobby once the stampede had passed.
Clawhauser waved to them from his desk.
"Look," said Judy. "I get that Mr. Big is the one who caught the mole and sent him to you. What I don't understand is how he knew we were looking for him in the first place."
Like a wolf with a bone, she was. Nick had to check his tone before replying. "Does it matter? The mole's been arrested and we finally have a possible lead. You know what they say about gift horses…"
"My neighbor Eddie would take offense to that."
"Your neighbor or your neiiiiighbor?"
"Funny."
Nick smirked and ducked inside the changing rooms, doing a double-take when Judy followed him. He was starting to feel a little like he was the bone. Or maybe the carrot.
He had yet to replace the extra set of clothes he normally kept in his locker, so he prowled to the back shelves where they stored extra t-shirts for trainees and promotional events. He snagged the least offensive looking one from off the top of the pile. It was charcoal gray with the ZPD logo over the left pocket.
He held it up, eyeballing the size. Immediately he could tell it wasn't going to fit. The sleeves came to his elbows and flapped like elephant ears, and the collar was a V-neck. It would expose him to the belly.
Judy watched him, arms crossed—not a good sign. "You have to admit it's strange," she persisted.
Nick tossed the shirt back on top of the pile, not bothering to fold it, and started searching the other stacks for a smaller size. "Strange that this department doesn't stock fox sizes? No. Not really."
Judy grabbed a shirt from off the children's stack and tossed it to him. It was bright blue and had a picture of Chief Bogo on it. Their boss was actually smiling, which was somehow even more scary than his glowering. In cartoony letters over his head it read: GET BUFF-ALO AT ZPD SUMMER CAMP!
"Really?"
Judy shrugged. "Or you can wear the v-neck." Her lips twitched. "I hear the furry chest look is in now."
My partner. The comedian.
She was probably right about the size, though.
With a sigh, he started to unbutton his shirt—then stopped. He looked over at Judy. She was still watching him. "Ah, Carrots? Do you mind?"
She blinked and understanding dawned. "Oh. Right. Sorry." She turned smartly on her heel so that she had her back to him.
Nick went back to unbuttoning. For a few precious seconds, the only sounds were the rustle of fabric and the distant hum and clank of the air conditioner.
"You know, I find the fact that you're not more concerned about this very suspicious," said Judy.
"I thought we were supposed to be interrogating the mole, not each other."
"The suspect was addressed to you, Nick."
He was not going to be able to escape this conversation, was he?
"How did Mr. Big know we were looking for the Mole?" Judy asked again.
Nick tossed his ruined shirt into the laundry hamper, the swish of fabric covering his sigh of capitulation. "He knows because I went to see him. After you were taken."
There was a moment of silence. Nick used the moment to pick up his new shirt.
"I don't understand," said Judy. "Why would you do that?"
When Nick didn't immediately answer, Judy said, more sternly, "Nick."
"I went because I thought he was the one who had abducted you, all right?"
"You what?" Judy whirled back around, giant eyes widening even further at the sight of his furry abdomen.
Giving a mental yelp, Nick yanked the shirt down over his head. Aloud he snapped, "Carrots!"
"You accused Mr. Big of being my kidnapper? Why would you do that?" The accusation was aimed at his stomach. Nick scratched at the area self-consciously. "I don't know. It made sense at the time."
"He could have iced you, Nick!"
Nick could have used some of that ice right now. He felt overly warm and agitated. His partner, on the other hand, had already recovered from the moment and was back to glaring at him, eyes fixed on his, hands on hips, her right foot tapping out an irritated beat. It only served to rile Nick's emotions further.
"Well, he didn't," said Nick, using his smuggest and most careless tone, the one he knew would annoy Judy the most. "So why bother stressing about it? And hey! now we have a perp to question and we didn't even have to lift a paw to get him. Now that's the kind of police work that I like."
"Completely incorrigible," she said.
Nick grinned.
"That was not a compliment."
"Hey, I take what I can get."
Judy looked down at his shirt. Chief Bogo smiled brightly back at her.
Nick made a face. "I think I prefer raspberry stains."
For some reason his disgust seem to make her feel better. Her expression lightened. "Oh, I don't know. I think you look kind of cute in it."
Vindictive bunny.
They went to the interrogation room. The mole's chair had been pushed closer to the table and someone had given him a blanket and a bowl of warm water to dip his frostnipped paws into. A cup of steaming tea sat next to it, along with a familiar blue duffel bag, now marked with an evidence tag. He was still wearing the ribbon. It looked even more ridiculous in person.
As soon as they entered the room, the mole's long pink nose immediately started twitching. "Oh? It's the fox-bunny! I was wondering if you would show up."
"Fox bunny?" asked Nick.
"Don't—" said Judy, at the same time the mole answered, "Yeah, fox-bunny, because that's what she smells like. It's very confusing for a near-sighted animal like me, I'll tell you." He cocked his head as they circled around the table, his nose sniffing towards Nick this time. "Although, the smell makes more sense now. Her partner, are you?"
"I do not smell," said Judy before Nick could respond.
"You do," said the mole, unbothered by her upset. "Like a fox. The one next to you, specifically."
Nick watched as Judy bit off another denial. She pressed her paws flat to the table and bowed her head, foot thumping fast against the floor as she fought for calm.
Nick leaned over her and took a sniff.
Her head shot up and and she smacked at him. "Stop that!"
"I smell nothing but bunny," he said and Judy flinched, an odd reaction for what he thought should've been an obvious point of fact.
But before he could question it she had picked up his answer and turned to Mo, saying huffily, "See?"
"Well of course that's all you smell," said the mole to Nick. "Can you normally smell yourself? I mean, unless you're one of those animals who lets their fur get really rank."
Nick considered. "I guess that makes sense." Disappointing, though. The thought of Judy going around smelling like him was… thrilling, flattering, shameful, intoxicating, wonderful—
"We did not come hear to discuss this," Judy said with forced calm.
"Well I should think not," said the mole. "But was it really necessary to send polar bears out to hunt me down? They stuffed me in an ice truck. An ice truck. I thought I would freeze to death. Really, how unprofessional."
Nick snorted. "Said the kidnapper."
"It was just business. You shouldn't take it personally."
"You're right. Just because you drugged her, kidnapped her, and left her tied up in an illegal burrow. You know, the one that flooded."
"Hey, there was no way to know that would happen," defended Mo. "And—okay, so any mole worth his soil could tell you that those tunnels were unstable. But that they would collapse right then?" He shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Never."
Judy raised an eyebrow and reached for the duffel. Nick watched from over her shoulder as she unzipped it started pulling things out. A pair of sparkly shoes with worn heels. A pack of trading cards that Nick vaguely remembered being popular with young teens around ten or so years ago. A frayed scrap of blanket. A porcelain bunny figurine. Cake-toppers, yellow with age, of a fox bride and groom.
"Looking for the good stuff, fox-bunny?" asked the mole, swishing his reddened paws in the bowl of water. "Well you won't find anything in there, trust me. Must've kept the valuables in one of the other bags. Figures I grabbed the wrong one. Garbage, all of it. Not even worth doing the time for, though they'll peg me for it anyway."
Judy pulled out a small framed photograph. It showed Marian and Robin snuggling together somewhere outside. Nick remembered seeing the same picture at Robin's place. Judy traced the couple's faces, her expression wistful and a little sad. His emotional bunny. Nick pressed closer to her, and for the briefest of moments he felt her lean back into him.
"I'll tell you now," said Mo, "if you think I'm going to confess anything to you, it won't happen. I have a strict privacy policy when it comes to clients. A mole's reputation is only as good as his word, you know."
Judy began carefully putting the items back. To Mo, she said, "That's fine. I don't need a confession from you."
The swishing stopped. "You don't?"
Judy zipped up the duffel bag and set it aside. Looking the mole in the eye, she said, "No, I don't. And do you know why? Because I was there. You kidnapped me. I was the victim and witness. And now, I'm the cop."
"Ah. I see your point."
"I'm glad that you do."
The mole licked his chapped lips. "So… if you're not here for a confession, then why are you here?"
Judy pulled out a chair and took a seat so that she was facing him. Nick remained standing at her side. "Because we want to know about your raccoon partner. Ray."
"Co-worker, not partner. And I'm not telling you anything."
"Why not? Your privacy policy doesn't extend to him, does it?"
"No. But I'm not a rat, either."
"You're right about that," said Nick. "Rats are actually business savvy. They know when to turn down a bad job."
Mo frowned at the dig and lifted his paws from the bowl of water, wiping them dry on his blanket. "I haven't even gotten paid for this job yet," he grumbled.
"A fact that will help the Corsacs out in court," said Nick. "You—not so much."
By his expression, it was clear the mole didn't like this. He reached for his tea, but the ribbon he was wrapped up in was too tight and wouldn't let him reach that far.
Judy leaned across the table and pushed the cup closer. He looked grateful for a moment, then caught himself and pinched his expression back into a scowl.
"You made a mistake taking the job," said Judy. "You know that as well as we do. And you regret it, I can see that. It will get you farther when your case goes to court."
"It will?" said the mole, and Nick silently echoed his disbelief. Court rarely cared if you were repentant or not. And Mo mostly seemed regretful that he had been caught, not for being a mammal-for-hire in the first place.
"It will if I go easy on the charges," said Judy.
At that, Mo looked hopeful. Nick frowned. "But he could have killed you."
"Well, he didn't. So why bother stressing about it?" said Judy in such a perfect imitation of his words from earlier that Nick ground his teeth. To Mo, she said, "But this is a mercy I am only willing to entertain if you help us find your coworker."
Mo looked down at his tea unhappily.
Nick and Judy waited.
Finally, he set his mug aside. "What do you want to know?"
"Who hired him?" asked Nick.
"I don't know." When they just looked at him, he said, "Really, I don't. We don't discuss clients. Ever."
"Do you know where he went?"
"Last time Ray called, he said he had followed them to Sahara Square, passed the Oasis Hotel. Some scrubby little outskirts I've never heard of."
"When was this?"
"I don't know. A couple hours ago?"
Judy was immediately out of her chair; Nick was already at the door. He held it for her and she ducked under his arm and out into the hallway.
"Where are you going?" said the mole. "Wait! Can you send someone to take this ribbon off, at least? It itches!"
"Consider it a fitting substitution," said Nick. "Since your conscience doesn't seem to be bothering you much, I'll let some cheap nylon do it instead."
"This is torture!"
"No, just a mild allergy, I think." He smirked. "We'll have something come and collect you in a bit."
He shut the door on the mole's shouted response. Judy shook her head at him. "Don't you think that was a bit much?"
"Just because you decided to let him off easy doesn't mean I have to," said Nick. "Are you really not going to press charges?"
"I said I would think about it. I didn't say I would do it."
Nick eyed her. "You'll do it."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you're a dumb bunny who's too nice for her own good."
Judy narrowed her eyes at him. "Just for that, you get to drive again."
Nick was okay with that. He needed the distraction anyway.
Judy's gaze flicked down his front again before she caught herself and averted her eyes, hurrying off down the hallway, tail twitching, and Nick hated that he couldn't tell if the glance had been because of the hideous shirt, or because she'd been remembering what was beneath it.
Or that it mattered so much to him either way.
Nick snorted. And the mole thought he was the one being tortured.
Night beat them to the Sahara. Asphalt roads bleached by the sun glowed pale as the moon now under the cruiser's headlights. Homes and businesses loomed like crags of rock on either side of the road, each level a different striation of color: hot copper golds and dark-baked reds, cooled to tones of blue and gray under the darkness of night. The dusty streets were empty, the streetlights few and far between. Even businesses with signs that still said OPEN were dark inside, making it feel more like a dare than an invitation to enter. Nick had seen honey badger dens that looked more welcoming.
Unlike most other business districts of Zootopia, which maintained its bright and lively spirit even at night, full of glittering lights, pounding music, raucous crowds eager for a good time, this little outcropping of the city felt strangely subdued, like a side-street during a parade. You knew that the party was close by, but you were definitely not a part of it.
They rounded a sharp corner, the road taking them under a short cave underpass before spitting them out into a stretch of valley that dead-ended at a cliff face made colorful by layers and layers of graffiti, none of it legible anymore.
On the right, a jiffy store with all its lights still ablaze stood out like beacon of cheap snacks and home good miscellany. Out front were several plastic tables and chairs in various sizes, all peeling and warped by the heat.
And lounging at one of the smaller tables was Finnick.
"I didn't know he lived around here," said Judy.
"He lives wherever he wants to," said Nick.
He pulled the cruiser over and they got out. Finnick didn't so much as turn his head at their approach. He was slouched back in his seat, an open can of soda in one paw. He was wearing his usual outfit of cargo shorts, bowling shirt, and his favorite pair of sunglasses. In the neighboring alley behind him Nick could just make out his van, squeezed between the stone brick walls and covered by heavy shadows. He tried not to think of how many parking laws his friend was in violation of and failed.
"Finnick," greeted Nick.
"Nick," Finnick responded evenly.
"Why the shades?" asked Judy.
"It's bright out."
She glanced up at the single flickering streetlight above them. No, not flickering, Nick corrected himself. Moths danced around the bulb, the swarm large enough to blot out the light in flashes of darkness.
"Seen any foxes around lately?" he asked him.
"You mean like the ones his highness mayor couldn't shut up about on the news earlier?" Finnick took a sip of his drink. "No."
"What about raccoons?"
"We're in the Sahara, man."
"Then how about burrows? Have you heard about any of them being dug nearby? I hear they're becoming quite popular again thanks to that back to nature fad going around."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Nick moved so that he was in the little fox's direct line of sight. "Just in case you weren't aware, lives are at stake on this, Finn."
"Yeah?" said the little fox. "Sucks for them, then."
"Don't be like this. We're friends, aren't we? Friends help each other." Nick flashed him his biggest, friendliest smile.
Finnick raised a single eyebrow. "Is that so?"
He held out his drink. Nick looked down at it, then at him, but Finnick continued to hold it there, waiting. Rolling his eyes, Nick reached for it. Right before he could take it, however, Finnick upended the can. Carbonated liquid spilled out, right onto Nick's feet. Judy squeaked and hopped away to avoid the splatter. Nick remained where he was, letting Finnick pour until there was nothing left.
Only when he was sure it was empty did Finnick finally pull back. He crushed the can in one tiny paw and tossed it into a recycling bin near the curb with enough skill that it was clear he had performed the action many times before.
"Feel better now?" asked Nick.
Finnick bared his teeth at him. He had impressively sharp canines for a predator his size. Next to Nick, Judy stiffened at this display of hostility, shifting her weight back a bit, not in retreat but in preparation for defense.
"Friends don't bust friends!" Finnick snarled.
Nick rocked back on heels, absorbing the blow with, he thought, remarkable aplomb. He didn't twitch not a whisker. "Is this why you didn't answer my call the other day? Because you're still angry at me about that? That was you're fault for being so obvious. I mean, come on, you know better than to commit a crime right in front of a police officer."
"I thought I was with my friend, not a cop," spat Finnick, and Nick flinched as this second blow struck more solidly. He stuffed his fists into his pockets. "If I hadn't busted you, word would have gotten back to my boss. I would have been written up. I could have lost my job."
"Well, congratulations," said Finnick, returning to his careless slouch in the chair. "You kept the job."
Nick stared down at him. He knew he had ticked Finnick off, but he hadn't realized it had been to this extent. Hurt and anger boiled up inside of him. The unfairness of it. He felt the edge of his mouth quiver around a snarl and fought to stifle it. Don't let them see…
Judy stepped in front of Nick, the move startling him out of his upset. She glared down at Finnick. "You know you were supposed to go to jail for doing what you did, right?" she told him.
The little fox frowned. "What?"
"Don't, Carrots," said Nick.
"Why not?" demanded Judy. "Why shouldn't I tell him, if he thinks you betrayed him so badly?"
"Because," he said, but that was as far as he got, because there really was no answer he could give her—That he didn't care? That he was too afraid of trying and still being rejected? That all friendships crashed and burned eventually?—that wouldn't make him a liar or a coward or a cynic, and she wouldn't accept any of those reasons anyway. She'd see right through him, like she always did, and then she might finally realize what a wanting creature he was and leave him—
Don't let her see—
"Tell me what? What are you two talking about?" growled Finnick, and Judy rounded on him. "Didn't you hear me with those whoppers you got on your head?" she asked, gesturing to her own not-insignificant pair of ears, and Finnick's eyebrows shot so high they were visible over the top of his giant sunglasses.
Nick made a choking noise and grabbed his partner's shoulder, not sure if it was to stop her from going after Finnick or to yank her away when Finnick finally snapped and made a go for her throat.
Judy didn't stop, though. "You were supposed to have jail time,"she told him. "Nick was the one who managed to get it down to just some community service. And really, how awful could handing out popsicles to cubs and calfs at a primary school have been? We all know baby animals are adorable."
"Maybe to you—" Finnick started, but Judy cut him off. "And as far as loyalties go—to me, you're the one who betrayed his friend first."
That bomb of a statement knocked both foxes back.
Finnick recovered first. Suddenly he was on his feet at the edge of his chair, placing them eye-to-sunglasses. "How do you figure, rabbit?"
Judy was unintimidated. "Because friends don't put friends into tough positions," she told him. "You knew Nick had an obligation to uphold the law and you flaunted your crime in front of him anyway, just to have the satisfaction of getting a cop to let you walk. You tried to take advantage of Nick, disrespecting him and his position. Frankly, I'm not surprised he picked his job over you. What kind of friend does that to another? Nick is doing his best to improve himself, to improve all of Zootopia, and you were fine with ruining that just to get one more laugh at the law? You should be ashamed of yourself. As a citizen and as a friend."
"Carrots…" said Nick softly.
She turned and grabbed his paw, pulling him back. "Let's go, Nick. You don't need a friend who treats you like this anyway."
There were no other cars on the street, but Judy still looked both ways before crossing back to the cruiser. Sand that had been ground to a fine dust by time and traffic blew against their legs. Nick's feet, sticky from the soda, became caked with it in seconds.
"Carrots…" he tried again. He could feel the tension vibrating though his partner's grip. He could hear her muttering, "…Could just go back there and box that fox's oversized ears… how dare he make you feel bad about doing your job… How dare he use friendship as an excuse… and than to dismiss you just like that… How dare he…"
"Judy." He tugged her to a stop. They had reached the cruiser. When she just glared at him, still lost in her fury, Nick lifted his paw—her own still clinging to it—and waved it in front of her twitching nose. "I need my paw to drive."
"Oh." Like that, her temper dissipated. She released him and stepped back. "Sorry about that. I just…" She huffed and shot a glare across the street. "I may have gotten carried away. Sorry."
"No, that was…" But Nick had no words for it, really. All of that righteous anger, gathered up and put together like a shield of justice and protection just for him. It made Nick feel… full, touched, humble, grateful. Unworthy. He settled on, "My fault. You shouldn't bother yourself with it."
"You're my partner. Of course I'm going to bother. You're problems are my problems now."
"I feel like there's a warning in there somewhere," teased Nick.
"Maybe there is," Judy teased back. In a more serious voice she said, "I'll tell you one thing, though, I'm sure as molasses not saving that ungrateful fox a booth at the Carrot Day Festival for his stupid Pawpsicles now."
"Don't do me any favors, rabbit," came the tiny fox's gruff voice. "Money's not as good since you started enforcing taxes on it anyway."
Judy and Nick turned. Finnick stood near the cruiser's bumper. The vehicle's shadow covered him like a blanket, dark and smothering, but his eyes glittered out at Nick from beneath a deep scowl. He clutched his sunglasses in one tiny paw.
"So you're just leaving again, huh?" said Finnick. "Off with your rabbit on another suicide mission like a sap, just like the first time."
"If I recall correctly, you're the one who stuck the sticker badge on my shirt and laughed at me to go," said Nick.
"As a lark," snapped Finnick, and for the first time Nick heard frustration beneath all the stewing anger. "I expected you to come back. You were the one who betrayed our friendship first, you lying dirty no good excuse for a fox!"
Oh. It was a realization encompassed in a single thought, echoed by the ghost of a whisper from Judy, who was staring at Finnick with sudden understanding in her bright eyes. "Oh."
"It was supposed to be the two of us," said Finnick. "You and me against this crappy city. And then you left me, just like that. To become one of them."
"You shouldn't blame him for wanting to better himself," said Judy, but even she sounded doubtful. "You should be encouraging him."
"You keep that twitchy nose of yours out of this, rabbit!"
"Finn." Nick shook his head, just once. "Don't. Not to my partner."
At that, the smaller fox's scowl stretched, becoming something less angry and more pained. "I used to be your partner, too," he pointed out.
Nick didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't argue, because it was true. And though a quip was on the tip of his tongue, he swallowed it back.
Finnick took a shuddering breath in and seemed to collect himself. He focused his gaze on a cactus just to the left of them. "I was telling the truth before. I don't know anything about any raccoons or tunnels or any of that," he said. "But if you're here looking for a place someone could hide out, there is an abandoned apartment complex in the topmost level of the canyon where squatters like to go. I wouldn't suggest trying to search it at night, but…"
"We can't wait for morning," said Nick. "There's—"
"Yeah-yeah. Lives at stake, blah-blah-blah. I heard you the first time, superfox." Finnick switched his gaze to the cruiser's front tire, which was the same height he was. He glared at it, as if the relative size offended him. "You know the mortality rate for this job of yours sucks, right? Especially for go-getters like you two?"
"We'll be careful," said Judy.
"You'd better," said Finnick. He looked over at them finally. He jabbed his sunglasses at Judy. "If Nick gets killed because of you, we will have more than words."
The threat only made Judy smile at him. "Maybe you're a good friend, after all," she said.
Finnick made a disgusted noise and flicked open his sunglasses. Sliding them back onto his nose, he disappeared back across the street and into his van. Nick watched him go.
"I feel like I should offer that apology to him now," said Judy, ears drooping. "I shouldn't have assumed…"
Nick shook his head. "I'm the one who needs to apologize." He looked up at the cliffs far above them. From this angle, they even blocked out the moon. He wasn't normally bothered by heights, but the thought of going up there gave even him some pause. "First, though, we have some foxes to find."
