"Clawhauser!"

Judy burst through the front doors of the ZPD as she called the cheetah's name. The main hall was unusually devoid of life; only Clawhauser, standing in his usual place behind the front desk, was to be seen. The dispatch radio beside him was lighting up like a Christmas tree, as numerous officers and emergency service personnel radioed in their updates and requests all at once.

Poor Clawhauser was visibly exhausted, and as Judy approached him, she could see the sweat on his brow and bags under his eyes more visibly. He barely had the energy to wave at her as he tried to juggle a few of the calls.

She stood in front of the desk and, knowing her request was less urgent than those flooding in on the radio, asked, "Can I borrow a pen and paper?"

Clawhauser quickly obliged. While Judy wrote, she eavesdropped in on the dispatch radio. She could hear numerous officers—even Chief Bogo—constantly giving updates on the situation at City Hall. Sirens could clearly be heard in the background of every call, some from police cars, some from ambulances. One or two calls were from officers trying to coordinate positions with each other, and Judy even heard officers from other precincts call in asking for more help.

Help was not to be had. Every available officer in the city was on the scene, and even though Judy knew the riot was being broken up, it was a slow process, with no relief in sight for the poor cops.

She wrote down her list as quickly as possible and slid the paper on the desk to Clawhauser. "When you get a chance, I need these done."

Clawhauser picked up the paper and glanced over it. The very first item was shocking enough for him to raise his eyebrows, lower the volume on the dispatch radio, and stare at her in disbelief. "A background check on the assistant mayor?" he asked, wondering if he had read correctly.

She nodded. "Call it a hunch."

"But…" Clawhauser looked at the paper again. "But him? His background has been scrutinized by the press so many times already."

"If he has nothing to hide, then that will prove it," Judy explained.

"But that could take a few days—"

"Run it." Judy wanted to explain her reasoning, but she was in a hurry. "You'll just have to trust me on this."

Clawhauser raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more on the matter. He read the rest of her list. "You also want the lab results on the…" He raised an eyebrow. "Covfefe?" He flipped the paper around and let her read it, giving her a chance to explain.

She let out an embarrassed sigh. "That's supposed to be 'coffee', sorry."

"I already sent the results to Chief Bogo—"

"I know. I need a copy for myself." She turned and started walking to her desk, unwilling to waste any more time. "Email, fax, whatever works best for you," she called over her shoulder.

She didn't mean to be rude to Clawhauser, especially since he was already under a lot of stress, but she really was in a hurry. She needed his help as quickly as possible; the more time she spent solving the case, the more people would get hurt in the city. The more predators would be forced to wear shock collars. The more time Nick would spend hating her…

She shook her head, forcing the thought from her mind. I can't think like that—not right now. I had no choice. I couldn't remove his shock collar, and I couldn't tell him about that threat against his life. Would he even believe me now anyway? She felt her pace slow down slightly. Probably not. Not without some kind of proof…

She stopped. Proof…

Judy spun around. "Clawhauser!" she called.

The cheetah had his phone pressed up against his cheek again. He heard her call and lifted his head to acknowledge her, though he kept the phone where it was. "Yes, Hopps?"

"I need access to the traffic cams." Clawhauser opened his mouth to ask something in response, but she cut him off. "I need to get to work. Just…" She pressed her paws together. "Please make it fast, okay? For me?"

Clawhauser opened his mouth again, but before he could speak, he seemed to realize that Judy needed him to waste as little time as possible. He slowly nodded and turned to his computer screen.

Satisfied, Judy turned around and once again began making her way to her desk. However, she had only taken a few more steps before she heard Clawhauser call to her once again. "Hopps!" Slightly annoyed, she stopped, turned and glared at the cheetah. His eyes were wide. The phone dangled in his paw, as if it took all the strength he had to hold onto it. He used his other paw to gingerly point at his computer screen. "Hopps…" His voice had dropped to a murmur; if the building were as full of animals as it usually was, she would never have heard it. "What happened out there?"

Even though it was barely louder than a whisper, Judy heard him loud and clear. She didn't need to see Clawhauser's screen to know that he had pulled up a live feed of the situation at City Hall. She could only imagine what the cameras were showing right now, but she was sure it wasn't anything good. Clawhauser's face had an expression on it that Judy had never seen before: sheer terror, as if he was witnessing the world itself collapse on the screen in front of him.

She couldn't answer him. It was all too fresh in her mind—all too painful. She simply swallowed hard, turned back around, and continued walking to her cubicle, though this time far more slowly than before. No more interruptions halted her, and a minute later, she was sitting at her desk, typing away at her keyboard.

A minute later, she received an email from Clawhauser. It was a forward of the email Chief Bogo had received earlier that morning, containing the coffee analysis results from the lab. Precinct One was fortunate enough to have its own internal lab, which was often used to analyze chemicals and forensics at crime scenes. Their equipment was state-of-the-art, and the animals who worked in the department were among the most qualified in their field.

This meant that the results were very, very thorough. And while the conclusion they had come to was that there was nothing suspicious in the coffee, they had documented their analysis in painstaking detail, so Judy was hopeful that there was something they had missed—a clue that they had glossed over.

It wasn't just her who had drank the coffee the night before. Apollo had as well—and he had drank much more than she had. She was sure that, even if the coffee wasn't what had caused them to go berserk, it had something to do with their behavior. If it wasn't the catalyst, it was at least an accelerant. I just have to find the proof.

She spent a long time looking over the document. She alternated between reading the document, Zoogling words or phrases that she didn't understand, researching coffee in general, and writing notes of her own. She didn't know what, exactly, to be on the lookout for, so she wrote down anything, and everything, that she thought might be worth remembering in the future. She was sure, by the end of it, she would become an expert on coffee herself.

Coffee… An involuntary yawn escaped Judy's mouth. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the time. It was now nine o'clock—much later than she normally stayed at the precinct, but not early enough yet to quit and go to sleep. I could go for some coffee right now, actually. She slid out of her chair and quickly made her way down the hallway to the coffee table. As it was currently evening—the time of day when no sane diurnal animal would be drinking coffee—the pot was empty, so she had to fill it with water first. Luckily, the drinking fountain was only a few feet away, so in no time at all, she had the pot filled with water.

As she set the pot back on the dispenser, she noticed an envelope on the table. She raised an eyebrow when she saw her name written on the outside. Curious, she picked up the letter, opened it, and unfolded the simple piece of paper on the inside.

"Here's the table I promised you," it read. "Keep on making the world a better place! Fangmeyer"

Judy looked from the letter, to the table, and back to the letter. She mentally kicked herself for not realizing it sooner, but the table was, indeed, the one that Fangmeyer had promised to get for her a couple of days prior. The coffee machine was also new—again, as promised, perfectly sized for her.

Fangmeyer must have set this up yesterday while I was at the concert, Judy reasoned. At first, she felt a faint smile grow on her face, as she thought about the tiger's selflessness in helping her out at work—but that thought was instantly crushed by the guilt of knowing that he wasn't around for her to thank in person.

She abandoned her coffee station momentarily and jogged to the main hall, just a few feet away. "Clawhauser," she called, "where's Fangmeyer right now?"

By now, the cheetah had most of his job under control. He had the dispatch radio in one paw, ready to coordinate calls if needed, but otherwise seemed to have nothing else going on. He heard Judy and turned his attention to her. "He's on scene at City Hall," he called back in reply. "He might have been injured."

Judy's eyes widened. "Injured?" she repeated.

"Calm down!" Clawhauser held up a paw, trying to reassure her. "It's not really clear. He might have been, but maybe not. And if he was, it's not serious."

Judy felt her heartbeat quicken at Clawhauser's words, but took a deep breath and nodded. "Thanks, Clawhauser." She slowly turned back around and returned to her coffee. By now, the pot was boiling, and it didn't take long for her to finish making it just the way she liked. She took the coffee, and the letter, back to her desk, all the more determined to solve the problems at hand.

After another hour or so of looking over the coffee results, a soft knock sounded at the door. Startled, Judy swiveled her chair around, wondering who would be here to see her at this time of night.

Bogo stood there, looking unlike his normal self. His uniform was wrinkled all over, his fur was covered in sweat, and he even had a bloody nose; Judy could only imagine how many bruises were hiding underneath his clothes. The various pouches and accessories on his utility belt were missing, with small bits of fabric remaining in their place. But what stuck out to Judy the most was that, for the first time since she had known him, he was tired; he leaned against the door frame for support, and his face was worn with weariness. He was the strongest mammal she knew, and in the course of just a few hours, the riot at City Hall had reduced him to a wobbly, weak shadow of his former self.

"Sir…" Judy struggled to find words, her attention caught up in Bogo's appearance.

Bogo tried to ignore her. He straightened his stance, tugged at his shirt to smooth out the wrinkles, and cleared his throat. "Hopps, what are you doing?"

Judy forced her gaze away from the chief. She motioned to her computer screen. "Well, I've been hard at work, analyzing all the data that—"

"I meant," Bogo quickly clarified, his voice drained and fatigued, "what are you doing here this late?"

Judy slowly lowered her paw into her lap. It had now been several hours since she had left City Hall, and the fact that he was now here with her meant that the situation had finally been defused. There was no urgency in solving this case at the moment, and besides, she would be a better help after a good night's sleep.

But…

She hung her head in shame. "Sir," she said simply, "the sooner I solve this case, the sooner they can be free." The predators. Nick…

Bogo stood in silence for a moment, pondering Judy's words. She knew he would understand, though; Bogo was tough, but he was fair, and he hated what was happening to the predators just as much as she did.

"Very well," he finally said. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, sniffling away as much of the blood on his snout as he could. "Go home and sleep when you can, okay, Hopps?"

Judy politely shook her head. "I'll use one of the cots down the hall." The cots were always there, ready to accommodate any cops who needed a quick nap on the job. Sleeping in one of those would give her less commute time and easier access to the resources she would need to get this case solved.

Bogo nodded in understanding. "Well, I'm going home." He turned around and, before leaving, left her with some parting words. "Hopps, don't beat yourself up over this. You're a good cop." He shot her one final glance. "And a good person."

Judy didn't feel like she was either of those right now, but she nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, sir," she quietly replied. He finally left, and she went straight back to analyzing the lab results on her computer.

Or at least, that's what she tried to do. However, she found herself reading less and thinking more—about why she was doing this. As much as she wanted to believe otherwise, she had to face the facts. The facts were that the lab results were conclusive: there was nothing abnormal in the coffee. And while Apollo had displayed all the same symptoms as the other savage predators, she had not. She had been fully conscious the whole time, and she remembered her actions afterwards. She had been in control of herself. She had intentionally hurt Apollo.

And Nick…

She slammed a fist on her desk. No! She forced herself to look at the computer screen again, all the more determined to find something amiss in the lab results. I had to have gone savage. I just know it. There's no way I could have hurt him otherwise. I wouldn't hurt him. I couldn't. I refuse to believe that I—

A vibration in her pocket startled her. She instinctively slipped a paw into her pocket and retrieved her phone. One glance at the screen, and she found herself groaning and slinking further into her seat.

It was her parents. It was Wednesday night, and she had forgotten to call them. Again.

Not now, not now, not now…

The last thing Judy needed right now was for her parents to bother her during the middle of her investigation. She needed to focus all of her attention on the issue at hand: getting to the bottom of this case. If she could do it fast enough, then maybe she could undo the damage all the shock collars had caused. Maybe Zootopia would go back to normal.

Maybe Nick would forgive her…

The phone vibrated again. Not expecting this, Judy gripped the phone a little tighter in her paws—but in doing so, inadvertently pressed the "Accept Call" button near the bottom of the screen. The next thing she knew, she was staring at her parents' faces, and they were staring back, once again, with expressions of disappointment.

This time, Bonnie started talking first. "Two weeks in a row, Judy?" Stu started to say something of his own, but she quickly pushed him out of frame. She looked at Judy with a look of annoyance. "Is there something going on we don't know about?"

The question was casual—too casual. Judy raised an eyebrow; she knew her parents usually only ever got their news from the local newspapers, since their farm didn't have a television or internet, but she was sure they had heard something about what was going on in the city. Clearly, however, they hadn't, and she wasn't sure she wanted to be the one to tell them the terrible news.

Where would I even start? The riot at City Hall? No, they don't even know about the shock collar mandate—they might not even know about the shock collars at all, come to think of it. I can't tell them about any of that—not right now, anyway…

She had to say something, though; her mom's expression was growing more and more annoyed by the second. She took a breath, forced a smile, and managed to finally speak. "Hey, guys! Sorry I didn't call earlier!"

Stu reappeared in frame, ignoring his wife's dismissive pushes. "There's definitely something going on with you, Judy, isn't there?" He studied her for a second. "Wait a minute, you're still in your uniform."

Judy nodded, her phony smile still plastered on her face. "Yep. In fact, I'm still at work." She panned her camera around her cubicle as proof. "Working late tonight."

"Working late?" Stu's eyes widened. "Oh no. Judy, you've never worked late before, have you?"

"Of course she has, Stu," Bonnie assured him off-screen. "Just never on a Wednesday, that's all." The tips of her ears reappeared. "Must be a big case, then, right, Judy?"

Before Judy could respond, Stu continued with his ramble. "What reason could they possibly have to work you late? It's not…" He gulped. "It's not voluntary, is it? Aren't they paying you enough?" He gasped. "Wait. Are you being forced into unpaid overtime? I know a good lawyer you can talk to!"

Judy's smile was long gone by now. She rolled her eyes, groaned and tried to get him to stop. "Guys…"

"No, seriously," Stu continued. "He's the one who sued Amazoo. Made a mint!"

"Fourteen dollars is not a 'mint', Stu," Bonnie murmured.

"Hey, it was fourteen dollars more than he had before, right?"

"Guys!"

Stu and Bonnie froze on the screen. For a second, Judy thought that the connection had dropped, but she quickly realized that they were staring at her in shock. Evidently, she had yelled louder than she had meant to—something her parents were not used to hearing from her.

She felt her cheeks flush red in embarrassment. She flattened her ears and hung her head in apology. "I'm sorry, guys. I didn't mean to yell. I'm just…" She hesitated, taking a moment to decide exactly what to tell them. "I'm really busy right now. It isn't a good time to talk."

Stu's expression remained frozen in shock, but Bonnie moved her head further into frame so Judy could see her face. To Judy's relief, she didn't seem mad. Instead, her face was a mixture of worry and patience. "We understand, dear," she said in reassurance. "We know how stressful your job can be. We just want you to remember us."

"I do," Judy quickly replied. "I'm just busy right now." She glanced at her computer screen, eyeing the coffee results filling up the screen. "Really busy," she repeated in a murmur.

Stu finally found something to say. Less patient than his wife, he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "Judy, what did we agree?"

She sighed. "That I will never be too busy to talk to you guys." She gestured to her computer screen. "But we have to make it quick. I really am busy tonight and need to get back to work."

For a moment, Stu glared at her, and she worried that he might press for further details. Finally, however, he softened his expression and gave a short nod. "Okay, Judy. We'll make it short."

Judy forced a smile. "Thank you." She relaxed a little, settling into her chair. "So, what's up in Bunnyborough?"

Bonnie angled the camera at herself. "Well, the biggest news is that Sara passed her final exams!" She smiled in pride. "She's going to graduate pharmacy school in just a few weeks!"

Judy's forced smile suddenly turned into a genuine one. Sara was one of her many sisters, and was a few years younger than her. Just like Judy had wanted to be a police officer her whole life, Sara had wanted to be a pharmacist. She had actually worked so hard in school, she managed to graduate a year early.

"Top of her class?" Judy asked, already knowing the answer.

"You know it!" Stu reappeared, beaming in pride. "You know, she gets her smarts from her great-uncle Fred, I think." He closed his eyes, reminiscing in a far-off memory. "Ah, the number of pills that rabbit could sell—"

Bonnie abruptly focused herself back into view. "Anyway," she quickly interrupted, "Sara will be coming back home tomorrow to grab a few things from her room. If you have time, maybe we can get you two in a call."

It was tempting. Judy hadn't talked with Sara in several months by now, and she was sure that the two of them would have lots to catch up on. And maybe, she realized, since she's a bona fide pharmacist now, she might be able to help me with these stupid coffee results.

"I'll think about it," Judy replied honestly. "Text me when she comes in, okay?"

"Sure, honey!" Bonnie smiled and waved. "Well, we should let you get back to your work."

Off-screen, Stu grumbled. "Oh, really? I didn't even get to tell her about Marshal and the turnips."

Judy raised an eyebrow. "What about Marshal and the turnips?" she asked, her curiosity overpowering her interest in ending the call.

The camera focused on Stu again. "Well…" He shrugged. "Marshal sold some turnips yesterday." He smiled awkwardly. "Cool, right?"

An awkward pause followed. Judy knew her father meant well, but sometimes—a lot of times—he would feel the need to add his own voice to a conversation, even if he had nothing to contribute. After hearing Bonnie talk about Sara, he clearly had felt the need to mention one of Judy's younger brothers just to feel even.

I guess they're even, then. "I need to go now, guys," she said. "Lot of work to do."

The two others waved to her. "Bye, Judy!" her mom called. "Take care!"

"Talk to you next Wednesday!" Stu added. Right before Bonnie turned off the call, he managed to quickly yell, "Don't forge—" And then the two of them disappeared from her phone with a beep.

The first thing Judy did after the call ended was open up her phone's calendar app and add a reminder to call her parents the following Wednesday, at a more reasonable time in the evening. Then, her distractions finally gone, she set pocketed her cell phone and moved the mouse on her computer to turn off the screen saver.

Before she could return to her work, however, her desk phone rang. Unlike her cell phone, the phone on her desk was strictly for work—and at this time of night, she knew of only one person who could be calling her. She quickly picked it up and greeted the voice on the other end. "Yes, Clawhauser?"

Clawhauser was short and to the point. "I've sent you an email with the link to the traffic cams."

Judy thanked him, hung up, and opened her email in a new tab. Sure enough, an interdepartmental email from Clawhauser sat at the top of her inbox, waiting for her to read it. At first, she considered saving it for later, so she could go back to focusing on the lab results. After all, she had already wasted several minutes talking with her parents, and she didn't want to drag the case out any more than necessary.

But if she was to be truthful with herself, she needed a break from all that. Besides, she wasn't making any headway with the lab results anyway.

She clicked on the link. In a new tab, a portal opened up that allowed her to access every single traffic camera in Zootopia. She quickly set the time and date that she wanted to observe, and then navigated her way to the cameras closest to her apartment.

One particular camera was perfect. The angle focused on an intersection close to the alleyway, which was visible in the top half of the frame. She could clearly see the sidewalk, and as she watched, she was able to see herself walk in. She watched the footage carefully, but saw nobody else enter or exit the alley for the next two minutes, at which point her past self darted out in search of whoever had confronted her.

She quickly rewound the footage back to the same timestamp and played it again. Again, she saw herself walk into the alley, then nothing else until she darted back out two minutes later. Undeterred, she reverted back to the timestamp, then applied a quick filter on the video to enhance contrast. After that resulted in nothing new, she applied a separate filter that turned all pixels on the screen into either pure black or pure white, which would help identify any movement whatsoever. She was disappointed when even that did not give her any results.

She turned off the filters and played the footage in slow motion instead. This time, her past self spent ten minutes in the alleyway instead of just two, but still she couldn't find any trace of anyone else entering or exiting besides her. By now, Judy was tired—tired from the long day, tired of making no progress in her analysis, and tired of seeing the same footage over and over again. She rested her chin on her paw, flicking back and forth between a few frames near the moment her past self was about to emerge from the alley. She didn't feel like concentrating on the sidewalk anymore. She just let her eyes rest, staring straight ahead, not focusing on anything in particular…

Something caught her eye. She hurriedly backed up the recording and focused on the top left corner of the screen. She had been focusing so hard on the sidewalk by the alleyway, she hadn't thought to look at the rest of the image. She squinted, making sure not to let the blur evade her a second time.

There. Judy paused the feed and leaned closer to her monitor. The image was blurry, but she could definitely make out the form of some kind of animal on screen. The animal was crawling out of the alleyway, onto the second-story fire escape, barely in frame but definitely there. It was impossible to know for sure what kind of animal it was, but it was small—perhaps around her own size—and had dark fur, accentuated by a tan business suit.

A smile erupted on her face, ear to ear. That's it! That's it! For the first time since she could remember, Judy felt a sense of triumph. She had finally made some progress on the case—even better, she had finally found out who had made the threat against Nick's life. Yes, it was a blurry image, and yes, she had no way of knowing exactly who this animal was, but she had enough information now to start asking the right questions.

And she knew just who to ask in order to get the answers she needed.