The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 100

Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

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The Fire Triangle—A Zootopia Fanfiction

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Part One:

Fuel

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Chapter 12 –The Best Laid Plans

(Pt. 1)

"'Morning, you two; Chief wants to see you in his office before roll call."

Nick and Judy knew it was important—a summons to Bogo's office this early was never over a trivial matter—but at the same time they knew they weren't in any kind of trouble. Benjamin Clawhauser's mood could not have been more affable.

Still...

"What do you think Carrots," Nick asked her as they ascended the concourse to the big Cape buffalo's private sanctum, "could it be about Conor?" There was no mistaking the hopeful note in his voice.

Judy wanted to shake her head—in exasperation, rather than disagreement, and then ask him what part of 'No' he didn't understand. Ohhh, when was this dumb fox finally going to realize that they were not—repeat NOT—going to get re-assigned to the Lewis investigation?

Most likely, never....and what made it even more vexing was that they probably wouldn't want it anyway. According to the precinct grapevine, Cybercrimes was catching five shades of Hell for failing to track down the fugitive young silver-fox. "Even after that webcast, they still don't have anything?" That was the prevailing wisdom, but even so, there'd been no talk of giving the assignment to anyone else, and for a very good reason:

"Cybercrimes wanted it, they can keep it. I've got better thing to do than have City Hall, the Attorney General, and a zillion bankers riding my tail all day—over one lousy fox-kid." That was the other piece of conventional wisdom making the rounds in Precinct-1.

Fine, but just try telling Mr. Slick that. He was absolutely convinced that if Bogo would only put him (and his partner) back on the case they'd have Conor back in custody by dinnertime. It was enough to make Judy want to scream. The morning after they'd watched Conor's livestream; that was when it had started. Nick had come to work insufferable, and he'd only gotten worse as the day progressed. Ohhhh, if she'd known this was going to happen, she'd never have let him anywhere NEAR that webcast. She must have told him a hundred times, "It's not going to happen; just forget about it, okay?"

At the moment however, she was not in the mood for an argument, and so she opted for a more tactful response, "I don't know, maybe."

Nick nodded and said nothing more...thank goodness. Privately Judy thought the chances Bogo's call had anything to do with Conor were vanishingly remote. In the wake of his livestream, the fugitive young silver fox had once again disappeared into the ether, leaving no trace or trail whatsoever. Unless there had been some new developments, the Chief would have no reason to discuss the case with either her or Nick...and even then, only if it concerned them directly. Maybe come Saturday something new might crop up. That was when...ahhh, what were the kids calling it again? Oh yeah, the Great Rave—when everyone was supposed to throw open their windows and crank up Twisted Hamster. That might bring on some fresh elements, but until then...oops, here they were.

As always, she let Nick do the knocking. On the second rap, they heard the familiar, gruff bell of the Chief's voice.

"Hopps...Wilde. Come in please."

They entered to find him seated behind his desk, wearing an expression as unreadable as alien hieroglyphics.

"Sit down, please," he said, gesturing to a couple of chairs facing him, his voice giving no more away than his face.

Nick and Judy took their seats and waited; they didn't have to wait for very long.

"There's been another video posted," Bogo told them, nodding at his desktop display.

Judy felt her nose twitching. Well, what do you know; Nick had been right after all. Only, why on earth would...?

"Why on earth would Conor...?"

That was as far as she got before the Chief held up a hoof.

"It's not from Mr. Lewis, Hopps." he informed her, saying nothing more. Judy stared at him quizzically for a second. If Conor hadn't posted anything to Fuzztube, then...OH, NO!

The realization burst in her head like a cluster bomb, and from the next chair over, she heard an anguished yip of dismay. If that new video wasn't a Conor Lewis original, then it must be another...

"Just when I thought we were OVER this," Nick growled in seething frustration. Judy didn't blame him one bit; if bunnies were capable of making that noise, she'd be doing the same thing.

"Bad?" she asked, looking up at the Chief, unable to think of anything else.

Bogo answered by turning his desktop display in her and Nick's direction.

"Best brace y'selves." He cautioned, and then clicked on a key. At once, a Fuzztube page appeared.

The image in the playback window was meaningless at first, a door at the end of a short hallway viewed from slightly overhead, the angle producing a slight 'fish-eye' effect. The walls were off-white in color and devoid of decorations; it could have been any hallway, anywhere... and yet Judy felt her nose beginning to twitch again, this time with apprehension. There was something ominously familiar about...

Without warning, the door burst open and two figures flung themselves into the frame and onto the carpet. At first, they were visible only as grey and orange blurs. When they landed however, they became instantly recognizable; it was her and Nick.

What wasn't so familiar was what they did next; throwing their arms around each other, and rocking back and forth on the carpet, kissing hungrily.

Judy gasped and felt her foot begin to thump. From somewhere to the left, she thought she heard a fox-scream; it was hard to tell over the rush of blood in her ears. Sweet cheez n' crackers, what the HECK was this?

Without warning the playback cut to a different view, a couch in a living room. Now Judy realized where the footage had been shot; it was inside the safe house where she and Nick had been briefed on the arson attacks, (and where they'd later watched the Conor Lewis livestream.)

Only...why was the couch empty?

She got her answer a second later when she and Nick suddenly appeared on it, presto-chango, and now, for my next magical trick... Kneeling and facing one another other, they looked into each other's faces for a moment, and then...

Judy felt the thunder in her ears again as she watched the two of them kissing passionately. The action was jerky, interrupted by several jump-cuts, like in one of those old art-house movies. A moment later, she turned away grimacing, as the bunny on the screen gasped and arched her back. At that instant, the scene changed again, this time showing her and Nick on the couch, but from a different angle, no longer kneeling but laying together, touching each other's faces and gazing into one another's eyes. They kissed again, and then the scene cut to a rearward view of the two of them running down another hallway paw-in-paw, and disappearing through a doorway together.

And that was all, folks; the moment they passed out of sight the video ended as brusquely as it had started. Now there was only a blank screen—and a stunned fox and bunny staring at it. Judy was dazed, unable to speak, her eyes hot, wet, and stinging with a mixture of rage and confusion.

So were Nick's—but at least he still had his voice.

"Chief," he snarled, "I don't where that video came from, but none of what's on it actually happened. That thing's..."

"...a fake; yes, we know."

The interruption came not from Chief Bogo, but from a high-pitched voice, located somewhere atop his desk. Judy looked, and saw a familiar, bushytailed figure, sitting in a makeshift chair. It was Lieutenant Albert Tufts. Dangit, how the heck had she and Nick missed him when they came in here?

"To be more exact, it's what known as a 'Deep Fake'," the Kaibab squirrel said, pointing at the now empty playback window.

"Fine!" Nick was waving his arms, as if conducting a choir, "Call Fuzztube and tell them to take it down—now!"

What happened next was something Judy Hopps might never have believed, if she hadn't witnessed it for herself; Tufts' response to the fox was almost sympathetic.

"Believe me, we tried," he said, shaking his head wearily. "They told us no, they're leaving it where it is, and if we don't like it, we can take it up with their legal department."

Now it was Judy's turn to cry out in exasperation.

"What? But they CAN'T leave it up if it's fake!" She was already beginning to wonder if Vernon Rodenberg took civil cases; Fuzztube could not be allowed to get away with this.

Tufts sighed again, chittered, and turned that same semi-compassionate gaze on her.

"I'm afraid they can. The trouble is, we know it's a deep fake, but we can't PROVE it's a deep fake; not yet, and until we can, Fuzztube says it stays. That's their policy."

"What, they're putting the burden of proof on US?" The tips of Nick's fangs had begun to show and Judy decided that she'd better grab the wheel and quickly, before he put them both into a disciplinary ditch.

"All right Lieutenant, but you said 'not yet'. So, eventually you will be able to prove that video's a fa...a deep fake?"

Tufts tail began to flag up and down, "Yes, but it's going to take time, 24 hours at leas..."

"24 HOURS!" Nick exploded out of his chair with his tail frizzing. "Do you know how viral that thing could go in 24 hours?"

"Enough, Wilde!" Chef Bogo boomed, throwing him a withering look. "F' your information, the Lieutenant pulled three of his best animals off the Conor Lewis investigation to help out with this...and not on my orders, on his own initiative."

"Sorry," Nick said, sounding as if he was only trying to feel that way. It didn't matter; Tufts accepted the 'apology' at once.

"No problem. But you need to understand something Wilde; this deep fake is about the best I've ever seen—and I've seen a lot of..."

"Please don't mention The Druid again," Bogo groaned under his breath.

"I wasn't going to," the Kaibab squirrel chittered, sounding like his old, irritable self for a moment. "The Druid never went in for Deep Fakes anyway." He looked at Judy again, "But what you saw a moment ago was the work of an expert—and also an individual with access to some very sophisticated hardware and software. Those jump-cuts in that second segment; I'm about 90% sure they were put in on purpose. And only a real pro knows enough to deliberately add a flaw or two to a deep fake; it makes them look that much more authentic."

"I see," Judy responded carefully, and was about to say more when Tufts turned sharply in Chief Bogo's direction.

"Do you want to tell them...or shall I?"

"I'll tell them," Bogo answered, grumbling, sighing, and regarding his desk blotter for half a second...while Judy's nose began to twitch more rapidly than ever. There was...more? What more could there possibly be than...?

But even as the doe-bunny posed the question, she already knew the answer. If the ZPD was aware of this video, it was a pretty safe bet that a certain radio and TV fursonality knew about it as well.

And sure enough...

"Rock Hardesty's producer called earlier this morning; said they're going to feature that footage on tonight's show, and wanted to know if I had any comment." His mouth tilted into a lye-drenched smile, "I did, but I don't think they'll be able to use very much of it."

Judy smiled too...but not Nick

"Didn't you at least tell them it's a fake?" He demanded, with his neck fur starting to spike...a fact that did not escape Judy's notice. Whoa, this was not good; he was beginning to lose his self-control. More than anything, she wanted to take him aside and remind him of his credo; 'Never let them see that they get to you.' In present circumstances, unfortunately, that wasn't possible.

"Didn't know it at the time, or I would have," the big Cape buffalo rumbled resignedly. "We've since made several attempts to notify Mr. Hardesty's production company of the situation." He rumbled again, this time in disgust, "So far, they've not been returning our calls."

For some odd reason, Bogo's rising anger seemed to dampen Nick's ire a little; at least the chief wasn't any happier about the situation than he was. Whatever the case, the red fox's response was far more composed than Judy would have expected.

...If still somewhat cynical.

"Don't tell me; let me guess," he said raising one ear and lowering the other, "Even if ZPD Cybercrimes IS able to get the proof that video is a deep fake—even if they somehow manage to get it before Hardesty goes on the air—it won't do us any good if we can't get through to him. Am I right?

It was Tufts who answered the fox. "That's about it, I'm afraid. As long as Hardesty doesn't run that video knowing it's a fake, legally we can't touch him." He let out a chittering sigh, "Not that it makes any difference. When I said it would take 24 hours to get the proof, that was a lowball estimate."

"Once we've got it though, Hardesty won't be able to keep stonewalling us for very much longer," Chief Bogo pointed out, "and then he'll have to issue a retraction." Coming from him, it was a surprisingly half-heated gesture, and Nick pounced on it at once.

"With all due respect, sir...Puh-LEEZE! You know how that hyrax works. Yeah, he'll issue a retraction...at the very end of his show, right before he signs off the air."

"Yep," Judy added with the ears pinned back, "and I bet he won't waste more than half a sentence on it—if that!" A little of the fox's bitterness had finally begun to rub off on her.

But not so much that she was prepared to run with it, and she hastily dialed it back.

"All right Chief," she said, looking up at him earnestly, "what happens next?"

Bogo pulled himself upright in his chair, simultaneously reaching for his spectacles and a document lying on the desktop. "For starters, I've prepared a statement," he said, and then cleared his throat. Holding up the paper in front of him, he steadied his glasses with a finger as spoke. "'To all officers and associates of the Zootopia Police Department: By now you are aware of a new video posted to Fuzztube...'etc. etc. 'Cybercrimes believes this video to be a deep-fake—as do I—and are working diligently to gather the evidence to disprove its authenticity. In the meantime, it is not to be discussed with any of your fellow officers, or with anyone outside of the Department. Any officer or associate found to be in violation of this directive will be subject to disciplinary action...etc."

He took off his glasses and rubbed at a horn.

"I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do f'now."

"When do you plan to deliver it?" Judy asked, wondering why he hadn't already.

As if reading her thoughts, Bogo responded, "Not yet, not until the word begins to get round; as of right now, almost no one in the precinct is aware that video even exists...and I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible"

"Exactly," Albert Tufts agreed nodding in concurrence, "At present the only animals in Precinct-1 who know about it are the four of us and two of my officers down in Cybercrimes Division."

Judy's ears went up and her nose began to twitch again.

"Wha...how could...? She started to ask, and then remembered and snapped her fingers. "Oh, riiiight; that block the Chief had put on, so that no one can access Fuzztube from a ZPD computer."

"Or even their own cellphone if they're inside Precinct-1," Nick reminded her, also beginning to get it. And then he turned towards Tufts with a puzzled look on his face, "But no one in the precinct can get on Fuzztube, how'd your guys ever manage to get wind of that video?"

This time the answer came from Chief Bogo

"I made an exception for Cybercrimes Division, after the Conor Lewis webcast." He said, and the red fox nodded and folded his arms self-consciously.

"Oh, right, right...yeah."

Judy felt like doing the same thing. DUH; why hadn't she thought of it either? Of course Bogo would let Cybercrimes have access to Fuzztube; who knew if, or when, that kid might announce another livestream?

Bogo grunted and then stood up.

"But until the word begins to get round, let's not do anything to help it along, shall we? We won't be able to keep it dark for long, but every second that we're able to works very much in our favour." He pointed with a pen at Judy and then at Nick. "So you're to say nothing of that video after you leave here, understood?"

The two of them exchanged a wry expression, and then Nick said, "Sir, that's probably the most unnecessary order you've ever given us."

"Amen," Judy added, unable to resist.

"And don't worry about my guys," Tufts assured them, also getting up from his chair. "I already told them; one word about that video—to anyone—and they'll be working data entry until computers go back to floppy discs."

"Quite right," Bogo nodded approvingly and then nodded in the direction of the door. "Off you go then; I'll see you at morning briefing, Hopps, Wilde. And Lieutenant...?"

"I'll notify you the minute we have anything," the squirrel told him, with an obviously forced note of confidence in his voice. Judy knew then that there was no way Cybercrimes was going get the proof they needed before the Hardesty show went on the air. Bogo or no Bogo, when they were out of here, she needed to call her folks and ASAP.

It didn't quite work out that way. No sooner were they outside of Bogo's door than Nick let out a whistle through his teeth. It was a single meant for Albert Tufts, who was already halfway down the concourse. (Like all squirrels, he could move at blink-and-you-miss-it speed when the situation required it.)

"Lieutenant, hold up a second?"

Tufts turned and skittered back in their direction, sitting up on his haunches with his tail flapping impatiently.

"What do want, Wilde?"

Nick gestured in the direction of the Chief's office.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked. The question seemed to use up most of the air in his lungs and he hurriedly took another breath. "You don't like Hopps...and you really don't like me. So, why are you helping us?"

The squirrel regarded him narrowly for a second. "It's my job, Wilde."

Nick folded his arms and narrowed his gaze.

"Don't give me that, I heard Bogo say that you're acting on your own initiative...so again, why are you doing this?"

Tufts flapped his tail two more times.

"All right Wilde, if you want the truth...no, I don't like you. I don't like you, I don't like Hopps, and I especially don't like the idea of predator/prey relationships. It's unhealthy and unnatural, and if I thought for one moment that video was the real deal, I'd be the first one to demand your resignation." His face darkened by several degrees. "But it's not for real, and whatever I may think of you two fursonally, I cannot—and will not—just sit there and watch two of my fellow officers get raked over the coals on a LIE."

Nick said nothing for a moment...to Judy's considerable surprise; it wasn't often that you saw this fox left speechless. Had he and Tufts been the same size animals, she had the distinct impression he would have offered the lieutenant his paw.

He didn't, and after another second or two, the Kaibab squirrel turned and skittered away again.

Judy felt one side of her mouth canting upwards as she watched him go; so even he had his limits.

She dug out her cell phone and turned to Nick.

"Can you go on ahead and wait for me? Before I do anything else, I need to call my folks." Judy said this and braced herself, expecting a reminder of their orders from the Chief. But the fox only nodded grimly.

"Yeah, I'll bet you do; just make sure you find somewhere to call where you won't be overheard."

"I will."

By the time she did it was too late; Judy knew that when the call to her mother went straight into voice mail—before the other phone even started to ring. That could only mean her call had been blocked. And just to add injury to injury, when she tried to leave a voice mail, she got a starchy, recorded voice, informing her, "We're sorry, this voice-mail box is currently full; please try again later."

Oh well, she still had her side-channel.

This time her call went through immediately; Erin picked up on the second buzz. That was the good news; the bad news was that she instantly confirmed the doe-bunny's worst fears.

"Sis, what the HECK?" Her face was a portrait, etched in alarm.

Judy groaned and knew at once that her younger sister had already seen the new video. Taking no chances, she immediately threw down her ace.

"It's a deep-fake, Erin; it's not real. What you saw on that video never happened."

"Then how come it hasn't been taken down yet?" the younger bunny demanded skeptically—and that was when Judy knew she had real trouble right here in Rabbit City.

"Et tu, little sister; even you're going to pile on me now?"

She shook it off and spoke firmly.

"Fuzztube says it stays up until we can prove it's a fake. The ZPD's working on it, but we won't have anything to give them for a while yet."

"Oh," Erin was instantly contrite, clasping her paws and looking away for a second. Judy realized then and there that it wasn't only the deep fake video that was bugging her kid sister; something else was going on. She wondered what it could be for a second and then gave up. At 'that age', it could have been just about anything—or nothing at all.

Besides, she had problems of her own to deal with.

"Listen sis, I can't get through to mom on the phone for some reason." (She did not want Erin to know that her calls were being blocked.) "Can you let her know I called, and give her a message? Tell her I said that video is a fake, and I'll explain it to her when I call back, later this evening."

Erin swallowed and looked away again.

"Ummm, I'll try Judy...but uhhh, I'm kind of in trouble myself right now."

Judy felt her eyes roll upwards and turn sideways. She knew that tone of voice; she'd used it a few times herself when she was thirteen. Her sister was in a lot more trouble than just 'kind of'.

"What'd you do, Erin?" she queried, stretching her voice out in a long, flat sigh.

"Nothing!" the younger bunny started to insist—and then sighed herself. "Okay-y-y, I went to a slumber-party at Cara's....and we uh, sort of stayed up to watch Conor's webcast, and well..."

Judy half-groaned, half snickered to herself; yep, that would get Erin in Dutch with their folks all right.

"...and then blabbermouth Lisa's mother overheard her talking to Sue about it, and she called mom, and here I am, grounded! Stupid, yakkity squirrel-girl; I'm NEVER talking to her again, ever!"

That was good for a full, silent snigger on Judy's part. 'Never-ever' in middle-school-girl-speak translates as, 'until the day after tomorrow, at the very latest.'

She said, "You're lucky you're not out pulling weeds, little sis."

Erin's mouth turned inwards for a second. "If I didn't need to keep practicing for my audition, I probably would be," she said, holding up her bass-guitar as a visual aid.

"Oh, how's that going?" Judy asked, trying not to let her guilty feelings show. Dangit she'd completely forgotten about her sister's upcoming audition for acceptance into the Performing Arts Academy; how could she have done that?

Erin sighed and she heard a foot thumping.

"You know that old saying about three steps forward, two steps back, or whatever? That's what practicing's been like for me; just when I start to get one thing right, I mess up on something else. If I could only just...ahhhh, what do I want to say? If I could only just 'put it all together'..." Her voice trailed off in wistful frustration.

"You'll get it sis, just hang in there," Judy assured the younger bunny, recalling her own youthful moments of doubt and frustration; her first week at the ZPD Academy, the nights she'd spent lying awake, all but certain she was going to wash out. She hadn't—and it wasn't going happen to her sister either.

"Thanks Jude," Erin smiled and held up her bass again. "And don't worry about me giving up; I'm not quitting...ever."

And now it was Judy's turn to smile; this time, 'ever' DID mean ever.

"So, what are you going to perform?" she asked.

Erin's gaze turned upwards for a second, as if she were seeking counsel from a higher power. And then, reluctantly, she shook her head.

"Uhhh, sorry Judy...I-I don't want to, ummm...jinx myself, if you know what I mean.

She stiffened herself as if expecting an argument but the older bunny only nodded knowingly; cops also have their superstitions.

"I understand Erin... only just tell me one thing, okay?"

He sister's nose began to twitch.

"What's that?"

Judy put on her best poker-face.

"Please tell me you're NOT going to perform, 'And Then What?'"

"Oh, shut up!" Erin snapped...and then dissolved into a fit of girlish giggles. When she recovered, though, she was once more completely serious.

"You're coming to my audition, right sis?"

It was perhaps the sixth time she had asked the question, but in this instance, Judy's reply was definitive and to the point.

"I'll be there Erin, I promise," she said, determined now, by hook or by crook, to be there for her sister's performance—the ZPD be hanged; it would be her atonement for having nearly forgotten about it.

Before she had time for any second thoughts, the younger bunny changed the subject. "Is it true what Conor said, Jude—about that V-For -Vendetta graffiti being spray-painted all over the place up there?"

Judy's ears went up and her nose began to twitch.

"Yep...pretty much. In some parts of the city, you can't get away from it—though it's kind of, ummm, slowed down since Conor made that webcast. But Erin...um., you make it sound like there hasn't been any of it showing up in the Burrow. Is that so?" Up until now she'd assumed that the walls of Bunnyburrow must have suffered a similar fate to those of Zootopia .

"Nope, hasn't been any of that stuff down here," Erin told her, capping the sentence with an exaggerated shrug, "at least not that I've seen; I didn't even know it was a thing until I saw that webcast."

For some reason, that reminded Judy of something else.

"Are you going to participate in that 'We're Not Gonna Take It' sing-along on Saturday?" She was only half joking.

Erin promptly threw up her paws. "Whoa, are you kidding? I'm in enough trouble, as it is." Her expression was horrified, and yet...there was a wistful quality to the younger bunny's voice, as if she WISHED she could join the chorus. It seemed to jar something loose inside of her and she looked down for a second...and then up again, with her blue eyes flashing. "It's not fair sis; I had every right to see Conor's webcast after he put me in that Conestoga...or whatever...Fox video;"

Unarguable, adolescent logic; and now it was Judy raising her paws.

"Hey Erin, this me, okay? I'd talk to mom about it in a heartbeat, if she wasn't even madder at me than she is at you."

"Right, right sorry," the younger bunny answered, seeming to shrink a little. "Why do you think Conor did it, Jude...made that webcast, I mean?" It was an obvious grasp for a change of subject, but Judy decided to cut her sister a break.

"Well the conventional wisdom around here is that he's trying to make the other kids quit tagging everything with that graffiti—because he doesn't want anyone else getting in trouble on his account." By now, Dr. Hind's analysis of the fugitive young fox's webcast was common knowledge through Precinct-1. "He's supposed to have a real problem with that kind of thing."

"Yeah, that sounds like Conor all right," Erin responded with a sober nod, "It's like how he can't just sit and do nothing when he sees trouble, if you know what I mean."

Judy felt her ears go up; she knew exactly what her sister meant. She was referring to the young fox's actions in helping to foil the Guilford Brothers attack on the Big Dance.

Before she could respond, a paw came to rest on her shoulder.

"There you are, Carrots; what are you doing? Come on, we're going to be late for roll call."

Oops, speaking of forgetting things...

"Be right there, Nick...uh, Sorry Erin, gotta go."

"'Kay, I'll try to talk to mom later. Take care, Jude. Bye, now."

"Bye."

"So your folks already know, huh?" the red fox asked her as she stowed the phone. "How'd they find out?"

Judy wanted to kick herself; the one question she'd neglected to ask her sister; how had her parents found out about that video? Well, in the end...

"No idea, but does it even matter? They know—that's all that counts. C'mon, let's head on down to the bullpen before Bogo gets there."

The morning briefing turned out to be blissfully uneventful; no whispered comments as she and Nick made their way to the front of the room, no looks askance. Clearly the news of that Fuzztube vid had not yet made the rounds in Precinct-1, (doubly surprising, considering that it had already made it as far as Bunnyburrow.)

It was a state of affairs that couldn't last, and both Nick and Judy knew it. Sure enough, when they returned to the precinct at the end of their shift, the place seemed to have undergone a sea change. Now here came the sidelong glances, the eyes averting as they passed, the sotto-voce comments made behind raised paws. Even Clawhauser seemed to have a hard time meeting their gaze. On the way to their respective lockers, they passed by the open door of the commissary, where Francine Trunkaby was holding court with a few of the other large-mammal officers. Judy only caught a glimpse of the cow elephant as she went past, but the look on her face fairly screamed, 'I TOLD you so!'

Still, it wasn't as bad as it might have been. None of the looks they received were openly hostile, ranging instead from skittish confusion to cautious derision. Nick thought it meant that Bogo's memo must have also been making the rounds.

"Probably," Judy offered, and then shook her head and sighed. "I've got a bad feeling though, Nick. Rock Hardesty still hasn't thrown in his two cents; God only knows what's going to happen then."

Her partner let out small growl.

"Yep, we can only hope Cybercrimes gets the proof that thing's a fake before..." He stopped and looked at her. "Well, I know it won't happen before show-time Carrots, but Dear God, please let it happen at least before we start tomorrow's shift." He was crossing the fingers of both his paws.

"Even if it does, we've got still some long days ahead of us." Judy cautioned, and then clenched her fists and rolled her eyes upwards at the ceiling, "Hurry Sunday." They would have that day and Monday off.

"Can I get an A-men with that?" Nick asked rhetorically, flashing a foxy smile. And then he said, "Think we should check in with Cybercrimes on our way out...see how they're coming along?"

"Nooooo," Judy answered at once, making a flat, sweeping gesture with her paw. "Tufts might be there...and you know what he'll say." She heightened her tone into a nasal approximation of the Kaibab squirrel's chitter, "Haven't you two got anything better to do than annoy me?"

"Oooo, not bad," her fox companion yipped, offering a thumbs-up.

As a matter of fact, although Judy had no way of knowing it, if she and Nick had chosen to pay Cybercrimes a visit right then, they'd have found Albert Tufts conspicuous by his absence. That might have been a concern to the doe-bunny...until she learned that his division was still hard at work, attempting to get the proof that the safe-house video was a fraud.

That might have comforted Judy...until she found out why Tufts had left the precinct.

...And where he'd gone.

"Look, I already told you...we danced maybe twice and then he took off; I don't know where he went."

"And the Lewis boy never told you anything about where he lives or how to get in touch with him?"

"No!" Erin insisted, and then looked at the bobcat seated behind where Tufts was perched on the table-top.

"Sweet Cheez n' crackers, Mac; why would I lie about something like that?"

They were in a conference room inside the Burrow County Sheriff's Office. It was the first of many compromises that had preceded this question and answer period.

Tufts had initially wanted to speak to Erin in one of the Sheriff's Department's interview (read, interrogation) rooms—until no less a fursonage than Sheriff Sauer himself had vetoed the idea.

"Erin Hopps is good girl, and I won't have you treating her like one of the Guilford family."

That had settled that issue in a hurry, but then almost immediately, another one had reared its head—when Bonnie Hopps had insisted on being present for her daughter's questioning. Tufts had balked outright at that idea, and a stalemate had ensued, finally relieved when Mac Cannon had offered to sit in on the Q-and-A as Bonnie's 'representative.' She had agreed only reluctantly, and Tufts had agreed only because Sheriff Sauer had taken his deputy's side. Whatever the case, it had broken the logjam, and now here they all were, seated around (and atop) a long, faux-mahogany table; plaques and oak paneling on the wall to the left, frosted glass bricks on the other one.

"Nobody's accusing you of lying Erin," Mac told her, before turning an ice-water gaze on Albert Tufts, "are they, Lieutenant?"

The squirrel seemed not to have heard him.

"And you have no idea why he included you in that Connemara Fox video? His line of questioning had ceased to be linear more than an hour ago; the time honored police tactic of bouncing unexpectedly from one subject to another in order to keep a suspect off balance.

"Outside of it fitting the song lyrics, NO...for the hundredth time!" the young, white-furred bunny insisted, before adding, bitterly and for the benefit no one in particular, "And if I ever see that stupid silver-fox again, I'll kick his face in!"

This was true; Erin really was that mad at Conor, although not for any reason that Lieutenant Tufts might have surmised. Dangit why the heck had he insisted on putting that snippet from the Talent Show in his Conna-Foxxa video? If he'd just left well enough alone, this bushytailed Barney Fluffe wannabe wouldn't have the slightest idea that they even knew each other. "Thanks a lot, DUMB fox! For a guy that doesn't like getting other kids in trouble, you're batting a zillion right now."

"Yes, you said that before," Tufts responded, eyeing her skeptically—while Mac Cannon eyed him balefully. Erin Hopps was a nice girl, not some hardened cybercrook trying to hold out on him, one of his daughter Lisa's best friends. Where the heck did this beady-eyed jerk get off talking to her like that?

Actually the Lieutenant was at least partially right—Erin was holding out on him, though again, not for any reason either he or Mac might have expected. So far, she had dropped not even a hint about Conor's role in helping to stop the Guilford Brothers' chemical attack...not out any concern for the young silver fox, but because...well, a promise is a promise.

Besides, there was no way she say anything about the episode without revealing the part she'd played. And if this Lord-God-King cybercop thought that was going to happen in the same place where the Guilford Brothers were being held, she had some slightly used lottery tickets to sell him.

Not that it mattered. Even if she told, they wouldn't believe her anyway; at least the squirrel wouldn't. (Squirrels, gah, she was never speaking to Lisa Chatterton again, eh-VER!)

"Let's go over that online conversation you had with him again." Tufts told her, "The one where he gave you that advice about getting into the Performing Arts Academy."

"Okay," the young bunny replied, relaxing a little. This, at least, was safe ground; Conor had revealed nothing that the ZPD would find useful during the course of that conversation.

"All right, can you describe what was in the background while you were chatting?"

Erin felt her ears stiffen. Tufts hadn't said a word about that before; she had just been blindsided. Oooo, alright smarty-squirrel, you asked for it.

"Well, my bed and my dresser were behind me, and I think my Bunny Raitt post..."

"No, no, I mean in the background on your computer screen!" Tufts chittered irritably...while Mac Cannon's shoulders quivered and he clasped a paw over his muzzle. Unlike the Lieutenant, he knew that Erin Hopps was nobody's dumb bunny.

"Oh...welllll, um...there was a bed in the background..."

"What kind of bed?" Tufts interrupted, pen poised over a note-pad. "Four-poster, canopy, what?"

Erin shrugged. "A bed bed, a regular bed; I don't know what kind."

"Well, can you at least tell me what color the sheets were?"

"White," the young bunny answered immediately, getting an irritable tail flip for her troubles.

"Just...white?" Tufts demanded.

Erin felt her ears go back again.

"No, a whiter shade of pale; come on, who looks at what's behind the animal they're talking to in chat?"

She was treading on thin ice, talking to a police Lieutenant this way; Erin knew it but she didn't care. Besides, it was true, she really hadn't paid attention to what was behind Conor when they'd chatted, and why should she? Why would anyone? (It would have put her nose even more out of joint to learn that that the background behind the young silver fox had actually been a CGI projection.)

"All right," Tufts responded, somehow managing to keep his cool, "Let's go over what you talked about again."

They had done this four times already, but on the fifth go around, Erin made it about as easy for the Lieutenant as pulling teeth, playing the dumb bunny whenever she thought she could get away with it, pretending to be unsure about certain details, and repeatedly asking for water...and then repeatedly excusing herself to go use the bathroom.

Nonetheless, after a while, the story began to emerge, no different than the one she already told. She had asked for advice about what to do for her audition, and Conor had happily supplied it, even playing the video of his own audition for her.

"...and then he went 'Gack!' and pretended to hang himself—you know, like that raccoon girl did in the Voracious Eight movie—right when I was taking a swig of apple cider, ewwww! I could have..."

"Yes, yes, did you save it, by any chance?" Tufts interrupted flagging his tail.

"No, but you can find it on EweTube," Erin answered perkily—know fulling well that Conor had already taken it down from both there and Fuzztube...and then deleted both accounts. (He'd done the same thing with his old Dischord account too.)

Tufts flipped his tail again and changed the subject.

"All right, and when is this audition again?"

Erin almost said something snarky, but instead she hesitated. This was more untrammeled ground; still, she didn't see how knowing that information could help this idiot.

"Two weeks from this coming Saturday." She said.

"Uh-huh," the squirrel said, "and did Conor tell you if it's a closed audition...I mean just you and the judges." He threw in his last words quickly, before she could put on her dumb bunny routine again

Erin started to answer, but then Mac Cannon spoke up.

"What do you need to know that for?" he asked.

"Just curious," Tufts responded, unable to hide his annoyance at the interruption.

He was obviously more than 'just curious' and Erin almost professed ignorance of the matter...until she remembered that he could easily find out anyway with a quick phone call to the Academy.

Okay, she'd tell him...but not without pushing a few buttons.

"Nope, they're open to the public; it was Gazelle's idea; she wanted to make it as close to what a real gig is like as...."

"Yes, yes, I get it," Tufts responded in that same irked voice as before...and then finally mercifully, he flipped shut his notepad.

And with that, Erin felt a weight come off her shoulders; her ordeal was nearly over.

No such luck for Mac, who still had the unenviable task of escorting the Kaibab squirrel back to the train station. Holy smokin' catfish, where the heck that ZPD found this little stuffed shirt? From the moment of his arrival at the Burrow County Sheriff's office he'd managed to rub everyone the wrong way, especially Deputy Cannon, whom he'd treated like some bass-ackwards local yokel. Oh well, at least he hadn't insisted the bobcat allow him to ride on his shoulder. That would have been just a mite too much; most likely Mac would have done something he'd later come to regret.

However, he could still plant a barb or two.

"Sorry you had to come all this way for nothing." He said, glancing down at the squirrel skittering along the carpet beside him.

Tufts stopped and looked up with his whiskers twitching.

"Nothing?" he said, eyeing Mac curiously, "how do you mean?"

"Wellll," the bobcat answered, clearing his throat. For some reason, his collar seemed to have shrunk a size, "seems to me that the Hopps girl didn't tell you much of anything useful."

In response, Tufts' paws went to his hips. Now he was looking upwards with that smug, superior expression on his face—the one that made Mac want to pick him up by his tail and deposit him in the nearest trash bin.

And then, for the first time since they'd met, he actually grinned.

"Wellll now, I wouldn't say that."