Chapter 3: The Crafty Devil

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Apparently roll call did not last much longer after she left the bullpen. Judy didn't make it past four strides into the lobby before hearing a familiar concerned voice call for her.

"Judy!" she heard Clawhauser say from behind her.

"Gotta go, Benny. Sorry," she said without turning. Judy was eager to start hunting down Nick and was not in the mood for any condolences from her coworkers. A moment later she felt Clawhauser's paw on her shoulder stop her abruptly. She turned around to find the chubby predator somehow right beside her.

"Woah," she breathed.

"Cheetah," he said, gesturing to himself. He leaned over and put his paws on his knees, speaking softly to her. "Listen Judy, I know what you're going to do and I want to talk to you." Judy frowned.

"You can't stop me Clawhauser," she said softly.

"I know. Please, just . . . here. Let me walk you to your cruiser," he said a bit apprehensively. He looked at her with a hopeful smile as they began to slowly make their way to the parking lot to where Judy's cruiser waited for her. Judy followed along, content with knowing that at the very least he was not going to try to stop her.

"Chief's assigned you Sahara Square today," he mentioned. "Standard patrols, and he said something about taking it easy until he can pair you up with a new partner."

"Of course," she nodded along. Something about Clawhauser's awkward body language was striking her as odd. He was normally so approachable, but at that moment he looked nervous. Given the circumstances, she supposed it was not too peculiar. The city was under serious threat from a terrorist attack with an international arms dealer on the loose. It certainly was not the typical 'bad case of the Mondays'.

"Have a good day, Hopps," he said as he opened the door to the cruiser for her. She shot him a skeptical glance before hopping up into her seat. Instead of closing the door, he leaned in and looked at her very seriously. She was now at eye level with him, which would have felt odd enough on its own. His stern expression really brought her ears upright.

"We're getting lunch today at Flake's," Clawhauser said coldly. Judy groaned, assuming he was putting on a show of seriousness as a joke.

"I don't want donuts for lunch, Benny," she began. His expression did not change at all.

"We're getting lunch at Flake's, Judy. Twelve-thirty," he said. This time, her ears stayed up as she slowly nodded, a little too surprised by his demeanor to ask what was going on.

"Great!" he said with his chipper smile back on his face. "See you then."

With that, he turned on his heel and closed the door to her cruiser, leaving her with a bewildered look on her face. He hummed a tune to himself as he made his way back inside. Judy watched in disbelief, thinking about what on earth he could be up to. If he was going to try to stop her for searching for Nick, he would have done so before she could head off in the cruiser. Did he know something about Nick that she did not? It was unlikely, not only because Nick never trusted Clawhauser to keep a secret, but also because Flake's Donuts and Bagels hardly offered much privacy during the lunch rush.

She shook her head, knowing that whatever he was up to would not keep her from finding Nick. She fired up her cruiser and rolled out of the lot, thankful that the Chief assigned her to Sahara Square that day. That gave her the perfect opportunity to look for her first lead, and she needed as much time as she could get to find that grumpy old hustler.

The cruiser she and Nick used was a modified version of the smaller patrol cars. On the outside, it was just as big, but the seats on the inside were customized to accommodate their smaller bodies. As a result, Judy always felt tall driving around in her cruiser. It came in handy when she needed to see over the heads of other mammals. In that moment, she was using the vantage point to search for Finnick's van. His usual spots behind the mall or at gas-station parking lots were no good, and the day was beginning to drift by without much luck.

Finally, after she was beginning to think he was in a different district, Judy spotted the backside of his van down an alley as she drove by. She continued on a few more blocks as per usual. Finnick did not want others thinking he was cozy with the cops. Not that you could ever use the word cozy to describe Finnick.

The heat of Sahara Square radiated off of her Kevlar vest in the harsh sun. When she turned down the alley, she found her least-favorite fennec fox relaxing in a lawn chair under an umbrella next to his trusty van. Technically he was the only fennec fox she knew, but his attitude could really grind her gears.

As she approached, Judy saw him slowly dip his sunglasses down and peer at her with a satisfied smirk. He slowly reached over to the rear of his van and picked up a beer out of a small cooler. He pried off the cap with his teeth and spat it on the concrete before taking a long sip.

"I need your help, Finn," she said, getting straight to the point. He did not answer. Instead, he continued to gulp down his beer holding up a finger in her direction, as if she was interrupting a very important meeting between his mouth and the booze.

"Ahhh," he finally said after he put down the bottle and gave her another once-over. "Well if it isn't little miss bunny-butt," he said in his disturbingly deep voice.

"Have you seen Nick at all today?" she asked him.

"No," Finnick said sternly. He turned and took another swig from his beer as she crossed her arms. Judy looked him over again, taking note of the few empty bottles behind him. Normally he would be on the prowl looking for his next sucker, but by the looks of it, he had been there all morning.

"No hustles today?" she asked.

"Taking a vacation ain't illegal," he answered simply.

"We both know you're not the type. Know where Nick is?" she prodded.

"No idea," he answered immediately. His tone was not his usual angry scowl, which did not sit quite well with her. It was like he was enjoying being pestered.

"Level with me Finn. Do you know what's going on?"

"You're gonna have to be more specific there, Officer Toots." He crossed his legs and raised his glasses back up to his head, resuming his indifference. Judy groaned and placed her paw up to her head, massaging the crook of her brow. She decided to change the subject, hoping to ask the right question.

"Heard of anyone asking around for Nighthowlers?" she asked.

"Ain't no one tried to mess with that shit since y'all went conspiracy-theory on the mayor," he said with a scoff.

"What about explosives?" she followed. That question made him crack the slightest smile and take another sip of his beer.

"Perhaps," he said. Judy stepped closer and got down on one knee to peer at the smaller tan fox directly in his eye.

"Finn, don't 'perhaps' me. Lives are at stake here, including Nick's," she said sternly. Finn finally removed his glasses and eyed her suspiciously before placing his finished beer behind him among the other empty bottles.

"It's the honest answer, bunny. No one's dumb enough to start asking around for some extra C4. But a few weeks back, I heard someone was looking for pool-cleaning chemicals."

"You mean like chlorine?" she asked. Finnick nodded.

"Yeah. Pretty odd that someone was looking to buy the stuff in bulk underground. If you want some nip, then there are a few dealers you can go to but you gotta stay off the grid. If all you want is to keep your pool clean, then just go to Harry's Hardware down the block like a normal mammal, idiot," he said, holding his paws up to accent his disapproval. "I figured it was just some mob-boss who just got a new pool in his safe house but didn't want the cops knowing the address. Right up until I remembered that you can make bombs out of mixing the right stuff together."

"Chlorine bombs aren't powerful enough for what they have in mind," Judy said.

"No idea what you mean, but that ain't all I heard," he replied.

"What do you mean?" she asked, inching closer. Finnick nodded his head and dropped the smirk from his face.

"Know a capybara down in the Meadows, used to do odd jobs for Mr. Big before he got busted for some grand theft auto and spent the better part of his youth in the slammer. A real piece of work, this guy. He got out last year and had a hard time finding anyone willing to hire his dumb ass. A few weeks back he was tootin' his horn about a new boss who pays big dough for simple scavenging jobs."

"Did he mention what he was scavenging for, or who the boss was?" she asked.

"Nah, and that's the weird part. This guy couldn't keep his trap shut if he had a loaded .45 up his ass. But something about this new boss of his got him to keep quiet about everythin'. Guess he got spooked or something. All he told me was how much he got paid, and there ain't no crime boss in this city that'll shell out that kinda money for a scavenger job." Finnick made a big sweeping gesture with his paw to drive the point home.

"What's his name?" Judy asked.

"Goes by 'Spitz'. Not sure bout his real name," he said. Judy quickly jotted down some notes in her pad and made sure to underline the part about him getting paid big money for a simple job. She was about to ask one more question when her ears perked up and pointed behind her. She heard the sound of two larger cars mount the curb near the entrance to the alley, followed by doors opening.

"Scat," she cursed. If that was the ZBI they would know exactly what she was up to, and there was only one way out of the alley.

"I need to hide," she told Finnick in a frantic hiss. His large ears were also upright. He gestured his head towards the van behind him, telling her to get in. Judy quickly got in the back of the van and closed one door behind her, making sure not to slam it so any agents wouldn't hear. She lay back against the door of the van and kept her ears tall.

Finn snickered and opened up yet another beer with his teeth, spitting the cap out just as he did for her. She heard the sound of multiple mammals, but it was a long awkward moment before Finnick finally spoke up.

"What?" he asked accusingly.

"Are you Finnick?" Agent Savage asked. Judy scowled as she recognized his voice, keeping her breath as quiet as possible to keep his ears from detecting her.

"Yeah? Who the hell are you?" Finnick asked angrily.

"My name is Jack Savage, I'm with the ZBI," he said, pulling out his badge and flashing it towards Finnick who did not even bother looking at it.

"First a bunny cop, then a bunny spook? Y'all bunnies are takin' over the world, aren't ya?" Finn said.

"Oh, so you're familiar with Officer Hopps?" he asked.

"Course I am! That stupid hick stole my business partner. Slack-jawed idiot took one look at those bunny hips and just couldn't get away fast enough. Good riddance," he said, taking another swig from his beer.

"She come around here today?" Savage asked him. Judy suppressed a nervous breath, not daring to make a sound.

"She drops by from time to time," Finnick answered. "Only when she thinks she can shake somethin' out of me. She ain't half the hustler Nick was."

"It's actually your former partner I'm here about. He's gone missing," Savage explained.

"Go ask bunny-cop, bunny-cop! I ain't seen him in weeks," Finnick replied angrily.

"We've traced his last contact with your phone to a few days ago," Savage said. "We need to know where he is."

Finn took a moment to size up this bunny-spook in front of him. There was a dry indifference to his expression that ticked him off. It was the same expression that Finn liked to wear, and he felt a little robbed. The bunny kept his paws in his pockets, like he was bored. Finnick was used to pissing mammals off, especially cops, but having a bunny completely unfazed by him would not stand.

"You know," he said with a groan. "Maybe I've had one or two too many of these. I can't seem to remember what he said. Y'all got somethin' on you to sober me up?" Finnick smiled as he rubbed his fingers together. One of the other agents huffed at him.

"Listen fox, you need to answer our questions or else we'll take you in on grounds of obstructing a federal investigation," Agent Maple spat. The third officer, a badger, placed his paw inside his coat near his holster to complete the intimidation tactic. The bunny, however, still did not seem the least bit bothered.

"Y'all must be new here," Finn said with a laugh. "The cops round here have an understanding with me. Y'all wanna book me? Go for it. Take me down to the station, where I'll reserve my right to remain silent till I lawyer up and then tell you everythin' I got. I'll get off with some bullshit charge and I'll be home for dinner, and you will have wasted hours of time when you could have it now. And I'm willing to bet a day trip to the joint that this thing is time-sensitive, right? So what's it gonna be, bunny-boy?"

"Why you!" Agent Maple practically barked before Savage raised his paw out of his pockets and signaled his coworkers to back off. He quietly fished his wallet out of his pants and thumbed through a few bills. He tossed Finnick a sum that even he would consider to be generous before resuming his quiet skulk. Finn did not even bother grabbing the bills, content with watching the others stew in anger as the money lay at his feet.

"Hmmf," Finn scoffed before taking another sip from his beer. "All I know is that he said he'd be disappearing soon. He said something about it being a big score and that we probably wouldn't see each other again."

"He say anything else?" Savage asked.

"Yeah," Finn said with a glare. "He said I should take a vacation, get out of town for a little while."

"I see you're not taking him up on it," Savage said, gesturing to his van.

"That bastard's been telling me that since I met him," Finn spat. "Though with the feds busting my chops, maybe I should consider it."

"Last question," Agent Savage said flatly. "You know who might be able to run smuggled or stolen produce in the city? Flowers, specifically?"

"Ya mean those blue crazy-plants, right?" Finnick said before donning his sunglasses again and crossing his legs. Jack's eyebrow rose as he considered the insight from a supposed pawpsicle hustler.

"Yeah," Finnick continued. "You're lookin' for a weasel named Duke Weaselton. Slippery fella, owes me fifty bucks. He used to run petty jobs for the bigger fish. He was stealing those flowers for the psycho sheep-mayor back when preds were going nuts, though the asshat probably had no idea what he was even doing. He always gets bug-tacos from Tacomac on Mondays, during their happy-hour. If y'all don't see him there, hell is freezing over."

"Thank you for your cooperation," Savage replied dryly as he turned to leave. The other officers shot Finnick a dark glance before they followed the bunny back out of the alley and down the street. Judy waited an extra minute to make sure he was out of earshot before she peered through the window of Finnick's van. She made sure they were gone and stepped back out beside Finn, who resumed relaxing in his shade.

"You've never once asked for money from us before," she said with a smile.

"Feds think they're better than everyone else," Finnick explained. "The easiest marks to hustle are the ones who think they already know everything."

"Hustling the ZBI? That took balls. Not even Nick would try something like that," she said, shaking her head and placing her paws on her hips.

"Who do you think taught that whelp?" he said, flipping through the bills that Agent Savage had tossed him before shuffling them into his wallet.

"But lying to a federal agent might come back to bite you," she warned him.

"I didn't lie," he explained. Judy dropped her paws and looked at Finn with a dark expression.

"Nick really told you to get out of town?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he replied quietly back. "He seemed nervous about something too."

This did not look particularly good on Nick, especially now that the ZBI knew it. Extending warnings to friends and family was a common red flag that helped identify potential domestic terrorists or suspects in murder cases. The feds would see that as evidence that he was in on the plot. Perhaps Nick was nervous that he might actually fail and that bombs might really go off. If that was the case, then she had to find him fast. With newfound determination to find him and stop the attack, Judy stepped in front of Finnick and eyed him closely.

"When did you last hear from Spitz?" she asked.

"October," he answered quickly. "Tell that spiteful sack of shit he can bite the rocket, will ya?"

"Sure," Judy groaned at his language and turned to leave. Finnick was closely watching her as she stepped away, her mind reeling with possibilities from what she learned. She remembered Victor Pumar, and how she assumed Nick was swindling him. This was likely not the kind of mammal to go trifling with easily. She looked back over her shoulder and shot the fennec fox one last question.

"Hey Finn? If I was going to hustle a terrorist and international arms dealer, how would I do it?"

Finn laughed and threw his head back against the chair. He looked back up at her, dropping his sunglasses again on his snout and seeming to give her a look of satisfaction with her attitude.

"First rule of hustling, sweetheart: know your mark," he assured her.

Judy nodded and continued her way down the alley. She made her way carefully down the street where her cruiser was waiting for her. She smiled and shook her head at the thought of Finnick's antics. The crafty devil went through two police questionings, told them both wildly different stories, and managed to do so without lying to either of them or saying anything that might incriminate himself. He even earned some cash to boot. She made a mental note to do something to thank him after everything was over. The chase for Weaselton would keep the ZBI busy for the rest of the day for sure, and that bought her some time to get closer to Nick.

She needed to take advantage of the time Finnick bought for her. Judy sat down and bumped the center console twice with her paw, thinking about how she was going to track down 'Spitz'. This capybara in the Meadows might not be much to go on, but a lead was a lead. Spitz seemed a good place as any to start.

Judy noticed the clock read quarter-past noon, so she fired up her car and made her way back towards city center where Clawhauser would likely be stuffing his face with donuts, waiting for her. It was likely he only wanted to express his concern for what was happening with Nick. She really hoped he would not take up too much of her time. She did not have much more of it.

Oddly enough, when Judy arrived at Flake's Donuts and Bagels, Clawhauser wasn't even in line for food. He simply sat at one of the booths quietly drumming his claws against the table. He noticed her approach and smiled at her.

"Hopps! Glad you could make it. You hungry?" he offered.

"No thanks, Benny. Listen, I don't know what this is about, but I don't have any time to—"

"Trust me, honey. You have time for this," he said quietly. The way his smile remained on his face aggravated her. He was still being secretive, and his antics were starting to wear thin on Judy's patience. Not a moment after she sat down across from him, a

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