The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 63

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 7-Tying Up Loose Ends

(Pt. 4...Continued)

"Nick, you're the one who said it, remember?" Judy changed lanes and hit the gas, repeating the homily the fox had delivered, three weeks into their partnership, after taking down his first perp. "'Witnesses are good; evidence is better, but nothing beats being able to put yourself inside a suspect's head.'"

Nick Wilde just nodded and suppressed a whine; yes he had said that, and now he was beginning to wish that he'd kept his big, fat, fox-trap SHUT. Judy's insistence that Craig Guilford and his girlfriend Amanda were hiding out at his uncle's place was going to yield them nothing; nothing except a razzing from their fellow officers and maybe a tongue-lashing from The Chief.

By the time they reached Tundratown however, his attitude had undergone a serious re-adjustment. This was due, not so much to Judy Hopps' powers of persuasion as it was to three new pieces of information they'd received in the interim.

The first tidbit had come from Chief Bogo, who had (testily) informed his officers that Jake Guilford was twice married and twice divorced, with four kids from his first marriage and none from the second. All four of his offspring either lived with their mother full time or were off, attending college. In other words, the house was empty.

Strike one...

About a half hour later, Benjamin Clawhauser, (much more cheerful than the Chief,) had called with the news that ZPD forensics had confirmed Judy's hunch. Amanda Hill had been caught by the Vine Street Station security cameras at 18:18 on the previous day...barely a glimpse, but definitely her. 25 minutes later, both she and her boyfriend been spotted by the security cams at the Haymarket ZTA Station, debarking from a Green-Line train.

Strike two...

The third strike, the one where they'd struck gold, had come when Jake Guilford had finally returned their call, (in a fretful state of mind.) He had promptly told them yes, the house and the hangar were both alarmed, but had then confided that he also owned a guest cottage-and that it wasn't monitored by Mink's Home Security.

"You might not have caught it on Goggle Earth, it's between the house and the hangar and mostly underground," he'd said, and then added defensively, "I'd like to put it on the alarm system, but Mink's wants to charge me an arm and a tail for..."

After letting Jake ramble on for a bit, Judy had asked him to describe the guest cottage in detail and then Nick had asked him if there were any vehicles on the premises. (Craig Guilford knew how to drive, and an auto-theft charge would be the least of his worries, right about now.)

The coyote's answer had been the best piece of news they'd gotten all morning.

"Nope, thank goodness... my regular ride's in the shop, so I had to take the truck to the airport Sunday," he'd said, "nothing at the house right now but the tractor and that junk-heap runs like a sloth on sleeping pills."

"Ehhh-xcellent," Nick had muttered under his breath, offering Judy a thumbs-up; if there had been a vehicle left at the house for Craig and his girlfriend to appropriate, you could most likely have colored them gone hours ago.

"All right," Judy kept her eyes on the road while she spoke, "one last thing before we let you go, Mr. Guilford. Can you check your home phone and see if your nephew tried to call you there?" She did not explain why and the coyote didn't ask her to.

"Sure, I'll check right now," he'd said, and then his voice had tightened like a 100 lb. bowstring, "and listen; if you need me to testify against either that little snot nephew of mine or his worthless excuse for a dad..."

"We'll be in touch," Nick Wilde had cut in quickly, having sensed that Jake was working himself up into a rant. He could hardly blame the coyote; as soon as Jake Guilford got back to Zootopia everyone and their aunt would be asking him, "Hey, are you any relation to Jerry Guilford?"

Animals were like that.

Less than ten minutes after Jake rang off, a text message from the coyote popped up on the cruiser's computer screen.

"Ys Craig called.

Yes, I'm sure

Forgot to turn off his caller ID.

Little IDIYOTE!"

That was what finally clinched it for Nick, a decidedly unpleasant experience for him; if he knew Judy, she'd be milking this for weeks.

"All right Fluff, but you don't have to look so smug about it," he grumbled, crossing his arms and hunkering down in his seat.

Judy only eyed him curiously. Smug, what smug? She hadn't been looking smug...no, of course not. Why, her face hadn't changed a whisker...right?

To get to the Meadowlands from Savannah Central, you had one of two possible choices; you could go by way of the Rainforest District, and then cut through Old Growth City-the shorter option, or else drive straight through Tundratown-the long way but with far fewer traffic stops. Being as it was early summer, Nick and Judy had opted for the arctic route; at this time of year the roads through Tundratown were mostly clear of snow and traversing the district was relatively easy.

Nick spent the rest of the journey studying Goggle-Earth images of Jake Guilford's house, trying to figure out the best angle of approach. That they would need to make their move from downwind was a given; Craig Guilford was a coyote and his girlfriend was another fox, two keen noses to Nick Wilde's one. A much more difficult proposition was how they were supposed to get close to that guest cottage without the neighbors raising fuss. (There wasn't a cop in the ZPD that hadn't seen a suspect turn and run after hearing a well-meaning citizen say; "Is there a problem here, officer?")

Ever the stickler for protocol, Judy had already informed the Meadowlands Precinct of her and Nick's mission.

"Right, will you need back up?" the officer in charge had asked, excitedly. (Upper Meadowlands was such a low crime area, garden shed burglaries were big news.)

"No, but we might need assistance if he's there, so please stand by," the bunny-cop had answered quickly. She had caught the OIC's gung-ho inflection and the last thing they needed was for a whole platoon of cop cars to come swooping down Creekside Road, lights and sirens blazing; Craig and Amanda would be gone before they got within a hundred yards of his uncle's place.

"So have you spotted the guest-cottage yet?" Judy asked, glancing sideways for half a second.

"Yeah-h-h, I think so," Nick answered her, frowning shortly at the on-board computer screen. "It just barely shows up as a shadow, but that's right where Jake Guilford said it would be." He let out a short growl, "Wish we could get a side view." Goggle-Earth only showed this part of the Meadowlands from an overhead angle.

"What about the houses on either side?" Judy glanced his way a second time.

Nick pulled back the view before answering her.

"Pretty much the same arrangement as Jake's," he said, "House, with a hangar out back; same thing with the whole neighborhood in fact. Hmmm, looks like they all share some kind of communal runway."

"Mmm," the corners of Judy's mouth turned downwards. "I sure hope the wind's not blowing in from that direction, Nick. Even if the kid can't catch your scent, imagine trying to get across THERE without being spotted,"

He turned to her with a wry grin.

"If you'll pardon the expression Carrots, we'll cross that runway when we get to it." (Judy groaned but couldn't help smiling.) "Anyway there's one good thing about this set up, if Jake Guilford has a hangar with a windsock, at least a couple of his neighbors will have one too; we'll be able to tell which way the wind is blowing without needing to get too close."

"Yeah, that's one piece of good news," Judy conceded, "All right, Meadowlands tunnel, coming up."

Nick put the computer on 'sleep' mode; there was be no Wi-Fi inside the tunnel and he didn't want to lose his place.

Exiting the viaduct was like entering another world; one minute everything was stark, white, and vertical, and in the next instant, it was lush, green, and rolling. Looking out at the vista before him, Nick reluctantly had to admit something; Judy was right, this place really did have a Bunnyburrow vibe to it, and why hadn't he noticed it before?

"Because you just came back from a weekend in the Burrow", Nick's inner voice reminded him, "DUH!"

That prompted the fox to fetch a quick glance at his partner. Yes, he had, and it had been one of the most meaningful weekends he'd ever spent.

"And to think I tried to get OUT of it." Nick reminded himself with a mental slap upside the head. (When he had nearly missed their train to Bunnyburrow, it hadn't been entirely by accident.)

A few minutes later, they came to an intersection and turned left. Almost immediately, Nick felt his ears coming to attention and his heart beginning to pick up speed.

"Hey Carrots, you know where we are?"

She turned to him with a grin and he thought he saw her winking behind the wraparound shades she was wearing.

"I was wondering when you'd notice, Nick. Yep, should be another mile or so ahead of us."

They were coming up on the bridge, the place where two years previously, he and Judy had reconciled, after she'd come back to Zootopia, looking for his help.

"'The bravest thing she ever did,' who said that again?" Nick Wilde wondered silently. Had it been her father, her mother; had the fox himself said it? He couldn't remember now. Well whoever it was, truer words had never been spoken, and so what could he have done but forgive Judy and agree to help...?"

"Sweet Cheez n' crackers, when did that happen?"

Jolted from his reverie, Nick found himself looking through the windshield at what should have been a familiar sight, the rooftops of the old, dilapidated factory buildings, just behind the little, stone bridge...only now they weren't so old or so decrepit; both structures had been refurbished and repainted in a gleaming, nearly translucent white.

And that wasn't the only change; the larger building, the one with the rounded roof no longer resembled a mouth with half its teeth missing. No, the broken windows hadn't been replaced; there simply were no windows-in either structure that he could see. The smokestack behind the smaller building had been replaced by what looked like a relay tower, and the cranes that had once graced the skyline above the old factory appeared to be absent altogether.

A half mile down the road was where the scenery really changed, they came upon a massive, chain-link fence, high enough to keep a giraffe from peering over the top. It was topped by three rolls of razor-wire and fitted with a layer of titanium mesh, so fine that a pygmy shrew couldn't have squeezed their way through it. Planted behind the fence-line was a solid row of tall plants, each one nearly as high as the fence itself. Odd looking specimens, they resembled rough-cut bamboo stalks with leaves like maple trees; all of them crowned with flat, spreading copses of tiny, white flowers. It was a singularly ugly-looking piece of horticulture and Nick was just about to ask Judy about it when he got his answer the hard way. Without warning her foot jammed down on the brake pedal and he found himself heaving violently forward, missing the dashboard thanks only to his seatbelt, and even then by scant centimeters.

"Carrots, what the heck?" he started to say after pulling himself back up again, but then he noticed that her sunglasses were gone and that she was staring slack-jawed through the windshield with a furiously twitching nose.

"Carrots, what...?" he said again, and she pointed at the fence-line with a quivering finger.

"Oh my God, Nick; that's Heracleum Mantegazzianium!"

"Hera-WHAT?" He was staring in complete confusion.

"Giant Hogweed," Judy translated and then peered through the glass again, this time with a horrified expression. "It's some seriously nasty stuff; makes poison ivy look like blueberries. Touch it and you'll get blisters on your paws as big as golf balls-and if the sap gets on your skin...ewwww, you'll end up with scars." She pointed to the base of one of the stalks. "Wherever Hogweed grows, it leaches that same blistering agent into the soil to get rid of any competing plants, so don't even think about trying to burrow under it." Her nose stopped twitching and wrinkled in disgust. "Puh, what's it DOING here?"

"Well, obviously, whoever owns that fence doesn't like trespassers," the red fox offered, trying to be diplomatic...though for the life of him, he couldn't say why. He lifted an ear, "But how do you know about it, Judy?" It was a stupid question given her background, but he needed something to relieve the tension.

Her face became a mask of flint.

"I ought to know about Hogweed Nick, would you believe it's a member of the carrot family?" She pointed through the windshield a second time, "Yep, that's right... and it's also every farmer in the Burrow's worst nightmare. If that stuff gets loose in one of your fields, it'll crowd out the carrots faster than you can get rid of it; only thing you can do is burn everything, plow it under, and wait until next season...and then pray that it doesn't come back again. It's one tough weed, I'm telling you."

"Well, okay," Nick conceded, nodding, "but right now that's not our concern." He gestured with a paw in the direction of the road, "Come on let's move."

"Yes, let's," Judy agreed, a little flustered for having allowed herself to be distracted so easily. She moved her foot from the brake to the gas pedal and the cruiser rolled smoothly onwards.

As Nick and Judy continued on their way, one thing became abundantly clear, the bridge where she had finally caught up with her once-and-future partner was going to be somewhere on the other side of that fence and phalanx of Giant Hogweed. The thought of it filled the bunny-cop with a slow sadness. That place, that special place where their lives had reconnected and changed forever was now off limits to them both.

"We should have come back here for a visit," she told herself, "we should have come back at least once."

And then she forgot about it and pushed on.

About two hundred yards further down the road, she and Nick got at least a partial answer to their question-when they came to a massive, steel gate set into the fence-line, On one side was a concrete guard-post that might have been transplanted from a cruise-missile base. On the other was a white-on-burgundy sign that read simply,

L P N

PHARMACEUTICALS

Meadowlands Campus

Beside it was a series of 'No Trespassing' signs, printed in varying languages.

"Well, at least that explains all the security," Nick Wilde offered, poking a thumb over his shoulder as the entrance gate disappeared in their wake. No industry was more plagued by corporate espionage than big pharma, even he knew that much.

Behind the wheel, Judy Hopps only sniffed and touched up on the accelerator. That wasn't why they were here.

Creekside Drive turned out to be a loop road, exiting the main drag at one point and hooking with it again, later on. All of the houses were widely spaced, but nothing like Bunnyburrow...a place where you might leave home and drive fifteen minutes before encountering another residence.

The good news was, just as Nick had predicted, all of the homes had hangars out back, and of these about half were sporting windsocks on the roof. One or two of the houses even had them mounted on poles out front. Determining which way the wind was blowing was going to be a cakewalk.

The bad news was that there wasn't any wind; every sock within 100 yards was hanging limply on its pole and looking practically forlorn. In these conditions, it would be impossible for Nick to get close enough to the guest cottage to catch Craig or Amanda's scent, not without his scent being detected by THEM.

And if the wind decided to pick up in the wrong direction while he was making his reconnaissance, then as Judy's father would say, that'd be all she wrote.

He spotted a school-bus turnout, just up ahead on the right.

"Carrots, can you pull in there for second? I need to call dispatch and see if we can get a weather report for this place. Maybe the wind will pick up later on." It was weak but all he could think of at the moment.

"Right," she answered, almost slewing the police cruiser into the space.

Judy wasn't still miffed about the fence-line and the Hogweed; Nick knew much if nothing else. No, she was torqued about the lack of any air movement, (as was he.) After all of their effort, after all of her insight and shrewd deductions, they were that close to taking down their suspect...and unable to proceed any further, thank you Mother Nature! Ahhhh, wasn't that just the life of a police officer?

"I wouldn't bother with dispatch," Judy told him, pointing at the computer screen, "Go to instead, and click on the 'weather' button; they're a lot more accurate than the ZPD weather station. Like most scions of a farm family Judy Hopps was climate-conscious by nature.

She had to walk Nick through the website, but they swiftly determined that a weak low pressure system was building to the southeast; the wind might kick up in an hour or two, but in their present position, they'd be upwind of Jake Guilford's place when the blow began. They couldn't stay here; they'd either have to drive past the house and then turn around, or else turn around now and come in by way of Creekside road's other entrance.

"How far away are we from the Guilford house?" Judy asked, and Nick switched screen over to 'map' function.

"Mmm, maybe 400 yards, give or take," he said.

Judy leaned over and scrutinized the map for a second. "Nearest neighbor on the other side is about 20 yards away," she said, "Is that close enough for Craig to be able to smell us?"

"No," Nick answered and then added a caveat, "IF that weather report is accurate Carrots; one puff of breeze blowing the wrong way and he'll know we're around in a heartbeat."

For a long moment, silence reigned inside the cruiser, broken only by the intermittent thumping of Judy's foot and the drumming of her fingers on the steering wheel. Finally, she let out a short breath.

"I'm willing to take that chance, Nick. Better that kid smells us coming than we miss him altogether; I've got a feeling we're fighting the clock here."

"Right." Nick actually wasn't sure about that, but at this point he wasn't going to argue.

Judy eased the cruiser out of the space and swung it around in a U-turn; she was bold, but she wasn't reckless, she wouldn't risk driving past the place where Craig and Amanda were holed up. She would come in unseen from the opposite direction.

It turned out to be a fortuitous decision on her part. About another half mile down the road, they came upon a mid-size grocery-general store. Without a second's hesitation, Judy turned and swung into the gravel parking lot. No words were spoken between her and Nick, nor were they necessary; the store was of earth-and-timber construction and half sunken in the earth. It told them both that the place belonged to another bunny.

Wel-l-ll...not quite. The animal behind the counter turned out to be not a rabbit but a fairly close relative, a Ladakh Pika. When they showed him the picture of Craig Guilford, he immediately brushed it with his fingertips.

"Yes, I remember him; he was in here yesterday afternoon, together with a young fox vixen."

Nick looked at Judy and then back at the pika. Whatever shreds of doubt he might still have been harboring, they had just become chaff in the wind.

But were Craig and his girlfriend still at his uncle's house? That was the million-dollar question.

"You're sure that this is the coyote sir?" Nick asked. The reply he got was almost brusque in its certainty.

"Positive," the pika said, returning the photograph, "I kept a close eye on that one while he was in here; he couldn't stop looking at the security cameras." He pointed upwards at the ceiling. "I had him for a possible thief because of that, but no, he paid for everything and then left."

Nick and Judy knew, of course, why the young coyote hadn't been able to keep his eyes off the security cams, even if he hadn't been planning to steal anything. They would get to that in a minute, but right now the bunny-cop asked, "Did either one of them say anything to you?"

"Only 'thank you' when I gave the boy his change," the pika shrugged.

"Do you remember what he bought?" it was Nick this time.

"Let me see..." the pika answered, consulting his cash register. (Luckily for the two ZPD officers, it was a nearly new electronic job.) After studying it for a second, he entered a quick set of instructions and the machine ejected a copy of the young coyote's receipt.

"Hmmm," Judy read aloud for the benefit of her partner, "according to this, he bought two six packs of soda, two sandwiches, a couple of frozen dinners, two breakfast burritos, a flashlight, a bag of chips," she frowned over the receipt for a second with her nose twitching, "and a pair of...safety goggles?"

"What the heck did he want those for?" Nick Wilde asked, craning forward with his ears working. Like her, he had caught the significance of the purchase, but hadn't been able to fathom its meaning.

"Beats me," Judy shrugged in frustration.

"Well, I cannot say for certain either, but I believe he wanted them for the girl, rather than for himself," the proprietor said, spreading his paws on the counter, "There were in her size, not his, that I know."

Judy nodded but said nothing. That was helpful but it still didn't answer the question, what HAD they wanted with a pair of safety goggles?

Nick Wilde, meanwhile, was doing a few quick, mental calculations.

"If they came in yesterday afternoon, that would have been just enough food to last them through this afternoon," he scratched his chin and then looked at Judy, "I think you're right, Carrots, the clock IS winding down on that kid. If he's still at his uncle's place, it won't be for very much longer."

"Mmmm, maybe," Judy said, nose twitching as she turned to speak to the pika again. "Did Craig and Amanda look like they could have carried anything more when they left, or were their arms pretty much full already?"

He responded with a lopsided grin.

"Honestly, I am surprised they were able to carry all they had, as it was," he said, and then changing gears, he asked her, "Would you like to see the security camera disc now?" Whether he was trying to be helpful or simply wanted to get this over with, Judy couldn't tell.

The security footage was both grainy and indistinct but Nick recognized the two young fugitives almost at once. Craig Guilford turned out to be especially easy to make; at one point, he made the silly mistake of looking directly into the camera lens.

"Whoa, that kid really IS a little dimbulb," Nick observed, with an expulsion of air between his teeth. He would have expected something like that from Amanda but not from her boyfriend; back in his wilder days, the red fox would NEVER have made such an amateurish mistake.

Judy Hopps could not have agreed with him more.

"I know, right? Makes you wonder how he got this far without getting caught." She looked at the pika again. "Sir, do you happen to know the name of whoever lives in the house on the right side of Mr. Guilford's place?"

"Better than that, I have their phone number," he answered, sliding a drawer open beneath the counter.

After copying the number on her cell, Judy reached over the countertop and offered a paw. "Thank you very much for your assistance Mr..." She stopped, with her nose twitching. "You know, I never did get your name."

"It's Sudhir, Vijay Sudhir," the pika answered, taking it, "And I am happy to be of assistance."

He concluded with a smile and a short bow.

Nick and Judy each left the store with cups of coffee in their paws. The price had been enough to make a Snarlbuck's Barista blush, but after all the help the proprietor been given them, it had only seemed like the right thing to do.

As soon as she settled in behind the wheel, Judy dialed the number she'd been given. For once, she got a prompt answer, and this time it wasn't voice mail.

"Hello?" the voice was mid-to-high range, bespeaking a smaller mammal, and suffused with a southwestern twang.

"Hello, Mr..." Judy racked her brain for a second, "Mr. Pye, this is Officer Judy Hopps of the ZPD. Sir, I'm calling in regard to your neighbor, Mr. Jake Guilford."

"Oh dear lord," Mr. Pye's voice had turned agitated, "Jake's not in any trouble over that business down in Bunnyburrow, I hope."

"Oh no sir, not at all," Judy moved swiftly to reassure him, "But we have reason to believe his nephew, Craig Guilford, is hiding out on his property. He was the spotter for the attack on the Carrot Days Festival and we have him on tape, purchasing supplies from the Meadowmart store up the road from you, yesterday afternoon." It was something she had learned early on in her career; if you wanted a citizen's co-operation, hit them with the hard evidence first.

"I see," the animal on the other end sounded relieved and cautious at the same time. "How can I help?"

Judy looked out the window before answering. The grass was moving now and the breeze seemed to be blowing in the right direction. She decided to risk it.

"We need to confirm that he's still on the premises before we call for back-up-and it looks like the best way to get close without being seen or scented is by way of your property..."

"Oh sure, certainly," the voice answered at once, "I know Jake'd do the same for me; c'mon over."

"Ask him if there's somewhere close by where we can park the car out of sight." Nick Wilde said from beside her. That had been their biggest glitch of the morning; the ZPD motor-pool had been fresh out of 'plain-wrapper' cars small enough to accommodate them, and they'd had to settle for a cruiser with a light-bar on the roof. One look at that rig sitting next door, and even a coyote of Craig Guilford's limited brain-power would know that his cover was blown.

"I heard," Pye answered, "And yes there is, I'll just go open up the garage for you and have mother keep an eye on next door."

"All right, we'll be there in a minute." Judy told him

It was hard to miss the Pye residence, a faux adobe split-level that would have looked perfectly natural in the Canyonlands district; here in the Meadowlands, it stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb, a testament to the eccentricity of its owner, as Nick and Judy were about to find out for themselves.

Charlie Pye turned out to be a spotted skunk with grizzled ears and a slight stoop. He must have been 70 if he was a day, but was remarkably spry for his age. After guiding Nick and Judy's cruiser into the garage, he led the way into the house as if he were leading a bayonet charge. (Nick's excuse for not being able to keep up with him was that he was weighted down by the cases he was carrying.)

Entering the kitchen, they found Mrs. Pye waiting for them, a plump matron who reminded Judy a little of her mom.

It took her all of three seconds to get her henpeck on.

"There Charlie, didn't I TELL you that something next door didn't feel right? Did I not say it?" Her arms were folded complacently across her chest.

"Yes Mother, you said so," Charlie Pye answered her, with the weary patience of someone who has endured a thousand such diatribes already.

The obvious question for Nick and Judy to have asked right then would have been, then why hadn't the Pyes already called the police...except they knew the answer; nobody dials the law on just a hunch, (nobody except cranks, busybodies, and animals hoping to claim a juicy reward.)

Instead Judy asked them, "Did either of you notice anything odd yesterday or this morning."

"Mmm, we were away most of yesterday," Mr. Pye admitted, "Went to the movies, and then did some shopping. I don't frankly care much for driving all the way to Sahara Central, but..."

"Oh Charlie, they don't want to hear about THAT," his wife interceded. Now she really sounded like Judy's mother, "And it's Savanna Central, not Sahara Central."

"Yes, Mother." The piebald skunk repeated with that same infinite patience, and then he squinted curiously at Nick. "Lookin' for something out there, Off'cer Wilde?" The fox was peering through the kitchen window with his head tilted sideways.

"Just checking out your windsock," Nick answered, pointing to the roof of the hangar out back. (The Pyes had one too.) "I'm going to need a little more wind than that before I try to see if I can catch those kids' scent."

Charlie squinted for a second and then answered with a knowing nodding, "Mmm, yup," His species also had a pretty decent sense of smell.

"In the meantime, there's something else we can do," Judy said, hefting the two cases Nick had brought from the cruiser. "May we use your kitchen table, sir...ma'am?"

"Yes, of course," Mrs. Pye answered, gesturing towards it with a black furred paw.

The purpose of the first case was obvious; it was the police laptop Judy had used earlier. When she popped the lid on the second one, it opened to reveal a six-bladed drone, fitted with a Hi-Def camera.

The sight of it was like jolt of caffeine for Charlie Pye.

"Sayyyy now,"he said, pointing through the window with an eager finger, "if'n you really want to get a good look at Jake's guest cottage, I got myself a helicopter in the hangar out yonder."

Nick and Judy regarded each other for a second. Some animals lived by the code of a jury-rigged Omerta; you never talk to the cops, ever, not even if there isn't any risk and it runs against your own best interest. At the opposite end of the spectrum were the police groupies, the ones who wore dark blue shirts and mirrored sunglasses on ride-alongs, and dreamed of rushing in to save the day when a bust went wrong. At this point, it was pretty obvious to which of those cliques this spotted skunk belonged. Luckily for the fox and bunny-cop, Pye's suggestion brought an immediate scowl to the face of his wife.

Judy quickly cemented it by pointing in the direction of the house next door, "Sorry sir, we can't let you take the risk; while we're pretty certain that the Guilford boy isn't armed, we do know that he's capable of violence."

She went on to give a quick description of the fruit-stand firebombing that Craig and his girlfriend had pulled; it brought Mrs. Pye's foot down, once and for all.

"Charles Edward Pye, you are NOT going out there in that...helicopter? Helicopter! It's an ultralight auto-gyro. And you haven't flown it in six months; of all the hare-brai...I-I mean cockamamie ideas!"

She coughed and looked rapidly away from Judy, who barely suppressed a giggle.

"Yes, Mother," her husband replied.

There was a hedgerow separating the two properties, but Nick and Judy chose to launch the drone from behind a tool shed, just to play it safe.

"Smell anything yet?" Judy asked as they set the tiny aircraft in place. The fox raised his muzzle for a second, but then lowered it and shook his head. "Not yet, but at least they can't smell US either." He nodded up at the windsock on the hangar roof. It was barely fluttering, but pointing away from the Guilford residence.

Back at the kitchen table, Judy took the controls while Nick monitored the camera on the laptop screen. There was always the chance that Craig or his girlfriend might spot the interloper but the odds were strongly against it. The drone's ducted blades ran almost silently and it was capable of taking high-res photographs from a height that would render it as no more than a speck in the sky.

"Okay," she said, "3...2...1..."

She thumbed a switch on the control console and the little drone shot up vertically with barely a sound.

Jake Guilford's spread was a large property for an animal living by himself, but Judy already knew why the coyote had kept it; he'd inherited it from his father. She understood; the Hopps Farm had been in her family for going on five generations now.

They began with a slow circuit around the guest cottage, which even from this angle appeared as nothing more than a low mound of earth. If it hadn't been for the entrance stairs, skylight, and half angled chimney-pipe, you might almost have mistaken it for a burial mound.

"Funny looking guest house," Nick Wilde observed, keeping his eyes on the screen.

"Actually it's more of a storm shelter," Charlie Pye said from behind the fox, "Most of the older places round here have 'em. Leftovers from the big blow of...when was that again?"

"Hush Charlie, and let them work."

"Yes, Mother."

"Nick, I'm going to zoom in on the skylight," Judy said, barely suppressing another snicker. "Tell me what you see."

On the screen, the image locked in place for a second and then expanded rapidly.

"Yep, they've got the curtains drawn," the red fox noted without surprise, "just like those goofy kids to up and blind themselves."

Judy pulled back the camera and nodded in concurrence. "Great place to hole up, huh? You can't see anything outside, and there's only one way in or out of there."

That prompted Charlie Pye to clear his throat.

"Welllll, not quite; there's a tunnel between there and Jake's hangar..."

"Charlie, what did I just say?"

"Yes, Mother."

"We're aware of that Mr. Pye." Judy explained, still focusing on the remote, "But it won't be an option for those kids; if they try to sneak out through the hangar-tunnel, they'll end up tripping the alarm system." Even as she said it, a frown creased her features. Something...those safety goggles Craig had bought. What the heck? Why had that popped into her head all of a sudden?"

For the next few minutes the Pye's kitchen remained steeped in silence. But then the spotted skunk abruptly cleared his throat again.

"'Scuse me..."

"Charlie...!"

But this time, he ignored his wife.

"See those two trash-cans, out front of the hangar there?" he pointed, "One's full and the other's about half...and that's not like Jake Guilford at all; he'd never up and leave on a flight without emptying them first."

Nick and Judy looked at each other while Mary Pye promptly silenced herself. A zoom of the camera quickly confirmed that the spotted skunk's observation was correct.

"All right, thank you, Mr. Pye." Judy said, offering him an appreciative nod. Now he was being helpful.

Two more circuits of the 'guest bunker' (as Nick Wilde was calling it now) revealed neither movement nor any further clues. However something else of significance came quickly to the red fox's attention.

"It looks like the wind's picking up out there Carrots," he said, indicating the windsock on top of Jake Guilford's hangar. "I think I can get a scent on those kids without them spotting me now."

'I...think,' Judy chewed on her partner's words for a moment and then decided to roll the dice.

Bringing home the drone, she parked it and shut it down, while Nick switched the laptop screen over to his body-cam display. At the same time, he slipped on a headset, flicking the mike with a fingertip to test it. A small 'bipping' sound came over the computer speakers and he got up and headed for the door.

As soon as Nick was outside, he dropped to all fours and scurried in the direction of the hedge. Although Judy couldn't see, she knew that he was making for the point closest to the guest bunker. For the next few seconds, the fox held close to the ground, until he reached the hedgerow. And then got up, quickly and quietly, and raised his muzzle, sampling the air once more.

Judy heard him sniffing deeply, once, twice...a third time. And then he dropped back to a four point position and scooted around to the back of the tool shed, rising swiftly to his feet again as soon as he was safely concealed behind it.

And then finally, she heard him speak.

"Carrots, call for back-up."

It was all she needed to hear.

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Soooo, anyone catch the Genesis reference? (The band, not the game console, Peter Gabriel era.)