Chapter Text

Judy hunkered down in the driver’s seat and clutched at her cup of dandelion tea. It was already rapidly cooling. “Why does it always have to be Tundratown?” she muttered. It had been a long stakeout. Long, and quiet, and unproductive. And, despite the heat blasting in the car, cold. Extremely cold.

They were waiting outside a rundown house on Plow Street. Suspect had been seen coming and going at odd hours with suspicious packages. Their informant reported unusual smells, and organic waste being dumped into the bay nearby.

It was a nasty case. Bodies had been turning up in the Canal District, with identifying features – skins, heads, hooves, paws, tails – removed. They’d been calling them the Hide nor Hair murders.

Clinging to normalcy was important in a case like this. Complaining felt normal, so Judy complained a lot. It helped.

“What’s that, Carrots?” asked Nick. He’d seemed distracted lately. Understandable.

“I’m just sick of snow,” said Judy. “I’ve had my snow fix. That’s why I go home for Solstice. See the family, get cozy by the fire, look at the pretty tree, admire the massive amounts of snow, be glad I don’t have to live in it anymore. I’m good on snow after about five days of it.”

Nick smiled a little. She was glad to see that. He’d opened up a lot since she met him, but his shell was still a thick one. When he decided to hole up in it, it could be damn hard to get him to crawl out again.

“Eh, I kind of like the snow,” he said. “I don’t know what it is, but I always have the urge to dive into it head first.”

She laughed. “I would pay good money to see that.”

“Oh, I’ll bet you would.”

“So,” he said, after a few moments, “how was Solstice?”

“It was . . . fine.”

“That bad, huh?”

“No, really. It was okay. The usual, you know. It was good to be home. I wish you’d been there.”

“Yeah. I needed to see Mom, though. It had been awhile.”

“I know.” She fiddled with her cup. “Parents, huh? They just keep being . . . parents.”

Nick smiled again, this time baring a few teeth. Judy still got the shivers when he did that, but not for the same reasons she had in the beginning.

“Funny thing about parents,” he said. “They never quit.”

“I think I freaked them out a little this year.” She tried to sound casual. “Of course, they’re always kinda freaked out these days. Ever since I joined the force. I know they’re trying, but. You know.”

“Oh yeah? What’d you do, tell them you’re after the Hide nor Hair killer?”

“Are you kidding? Dad would have a heart attack. Nothing like that.” She stopped. Nick was looking at her expectantly. “No, they just got pushy about my, uh, love life. And I’m not sure they’re crazy about what I had to tell them, but I think they’re going to be okay.”

“Ah,” Nick said knowingly. “Not enough handsome young bunnies in your life, huh?”

“Yeah. So they found one for me.”

---

The truth was, he was a nice enough rabbit. Nice, obviously bright, and if she hadn’t been so cheesed off, she might have conceded that he was pretty attractive. But she didn’t come home to see strangers, not even nice, smart, maybe attractive ones. She came home for family and way too much food.

The moment she walked in the door, a wave of nostalgia and cooking smells smacked her in the nose. The tree was so big she wondered how it had fit through the front door. (“Your mother has her ways,” Dad had told her.)

It was a small crowd that year. Most of her grown sibs were off with their own families, so it was just Judy, Mom and Dad, and about a dozen little brothers and sisters. Oh, and Marcus Haare, DDS.

“He has his own practice in the Meadowlands!” Mom said as Judy shook paws with Marcus. “And you’ve recently started accepting predator clients, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, I got my carnivore certification in June,” he said. “Of course, most predators would rather go to a pred dentist anyway . . .”

“Gosh, that would make me nervous,” Dad cut in. “Putting my paws in a predator’s mouth. Sorry, Jude.”

“Oh, Stu,” said Mom, rolling her eyes.

Marcus laughed. “Getting bit occasionally is a regular occupational hazard for a dentist, Mr. Hopps. But my pred clients aren’t any worse than anyone else about that sort of thing.” He smiled at Judy. “But I’m sure your work is a lot more interesting than mine. Any fun cases lately?”

“Uh, not really. You know, routine stuff,” she said. Just zeroing in on a serial killer.

She found herself resenting Marcus as the evening went on. It wasn’t his fault, poor guy. But he was there, and she had to talk to him. They’d been in school together, it turned out, but in different years. They knew a few of the same people. She kept him going for awhile talking about dentistry, which was actually pretty interesting. But this, of course, led to forensic dentistry, which led to . . . talking about work.

Judy didn’t want to talk about work. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. She loved talking about her work. But she didn’t want to talk about her work in front of her family. Not right now.

She didn’t need a stranger in her childhood home. She needed things to be, well, normal.

---

“So, what’d you think of him?” asked Nick.

“Huh? Oh, the guy. He was . . . nice.”

“Such enthusiasm!”

“Yeah,” she said flatly, staring into her cup of tea. It was pretty cold by now. She considered unrolling the window and dumping it out, but decided against it. She wasn’t letting any of that frigid air in until she had to. “Any movement?”

“Nope.”

---

Her mom cornered her in the kitchen after dinner.

“Well? What do you think? Isn’t he just a sweetheart?”

“He’s great, Mom,” she said. “I’m just not in the market right now.”

“Oh, Judy, we’re not trying to pressure you into anything. It’s just that, well, we know how hard it is for you to meet people in your line of work.”

Judy smiled wryly. “To meet rabbits, you mean?”

“Well . . . yes.”

“I have plenty of friends, Mom.”

“I know, honey. We just worry that it’s going to be hard for you to meet someone. Someone you can – someone who can be more than a friend.”

“Mom,” she began, regretting the words almost before she said them, “I’ve already met someone.”

---

“Hang on, we’ve got something,” said Nick.

Judy’s ears swiveled forward, and she leaned past Nick to look out the passenger window. “I see him. What’s he carrying?”

“Big duffel bag. He just pulled it out of the trunk.”

“Is anyone with him?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Let’s go.”

Their subject was a Pallas cat, not much bigger than Judy, but broadly built and thickly furred. He paused for a moment by his front door to take a drag on a paw-rolled cigarette – Probably ‘nip, Judy thought – before tossing the stub into the snow and fumbling for his keys.

“Excuse me, sir,” called Judy as they trudged up the unshoveled path. “Mr. Kota? ZPD. We have a warrant to search your property.” She briefly flashed the papers. “We’re investigating complaints of noxious fumes, improper waste disposal, suspicious activity. We need to ask you a few questions.”

The cat stared at them, his yellow eyes strangely impassive. Judy couldn’t read his expression at all. “Yeah, okay, sure,” he said after a moment. He hefted his bag, and they followed him into the house.

It was nearly as cold in the foyer as it had been outside. There was also a smell, acrid and chemical, with an underlying stench of decay. It was so powerful it made her eyes water. Judy found herself strangely reminded of walking into her parents’ house the week before and being hit by the smells of cooking and home, and the billowing warmth of the fireplace. It was like entering a horrible, twisted parallel universe.

“What is that smell?” she choked.

“Tannins,” said Nick. “Aldehydes.” His ears were back, the fur on his neck bristling.

Kota dropped his bag on the floor with a heavy thud. “I make leather,” he said, his tone completely flat.

Judy coughed and covered her nose with her scarf. “So, this is a tannery? Do you have a license to run this kind of operation on your property?”

“Been doing this thirty years. Never needed license before.”

“Would you mind telling us what’s in the bag, sir?” asked Nick.

“Unprepared skins. New job for a customer.”

“What species are the skins from?” asked Judy.

Kota shrugged. “I never ask. Ostrich, probably.”

Nick unzipped the bag and pulled back the flap. He quickly zipped it up again. “Yeah. Those ain’t avian.”

Judy fought back a wave of nausea. “Mammalian?”

Nick nodded wordlessly.

“We’re placing you under arrest, Mr. Kota,” said Judy quietly.

“Okay.”

Judy made the call to headquarters. Suspect in custody. Probable mammalian remains on scene. The cat remained calm and affectless as Nick cuffed him and put him in the back of the car.

“This is weird,” said Judy, after Nick had closed the door and walked back to meet her. “It’s too easy. Like he wanted to get caught.”

“He did want to get caught,” said Nick. “He wants police protection.” His ears were still back, his eyes bright with fear. It had been a long time since she’d seen him like this.

“What are you talking about?”

Nick glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Kota, who was sitting still in his seat, gazing blankly ahead. “That isn’t our guy,” he said in a low voice. “We’ve been treating this case like it’s some loner whackjob serial killer, but it’s got crime syndicate written all over it. Kota’s just a patsy.”

“Okay . . .”

“Look, luxury goods made from mammal products have always been a status symbol in the crime families.”

“Hence the market for skunk butt rugs?”

He almost smiled. “Exactly. These days, this stuff generally comes from more or less willing donors. Sheared fur and wool, shed antlers, stuff like that. Weird, but mostly legal. Well, seventy, eighty years ago, when the Families were a lot more powerful, there was a fad for, um, trophies. Pelts. Tusks. Heads. Leather.” He looked away. “Rabbits’ feet.”

Judy recoiled. “Oh, God . . .”

“Yeah. Some of those things still show up on the black market now and then. Looks like someone’s decided to revive that quaint little tradition. I guarantee you, every one of the victims is going to turn out to be tied up in syndicate business somehow or other.”

She was silent for a moment. “Sweet cheese and crackers” didn’t quite seem to cover it. Something occurred to her, and she started, her heart sinking. “Nick, you don’t think Mr. Big . . .”

“No. Not his style. But I bet he’d have some ideas about whose handiwork this is.”

“Right. Well, let’s hang tight. Chief’s on his way.”

“Yeah.” He was breathing fast.

“Nick . . . are you okay?”

“Yeah. This case is just . . . well, I was going to say ‘getting under my skin,’ but that would be in poor taste. It’s bringing up a lot of past stuff that I’d rather . . .” He trailed off. “I just – sometimes I wonder if I’m really cut out for this work.”

She tentatively put a paw on his arm. He didn’t move. “Nick—” she began, but he cut her off.

“So what happened?” he asked abruptly. “With your parents, and the mystery guy?”

Judy blinked. “What are you—that? You mean at Solstice? You want to talk about that now?”

“I want to talk about normal problems for a few minutes. You're always saying that helps. So give me some good, old fashioned, wholesome family-induced holiday stress. Something normal.”

“Okay.” She realized her paw was still on his arm. “I, uh, told my mom I wasn’t interested. Because I’m already interested in somebody else.”

Nick raised an eyebrow at her. “Really.”

“Yeah. Mostly to get my parents off my back. Not that it isn’t true, strictly speaking.”

“And that’s what freaked them out?”

“Uh, no. I . . . I told them he isn’t a rabbit.”

---

Her mother was quiet for a moment. Processing.

“It’s someone from work,” said Judy quickly. “It’s nothing serious. Well, it’s not really anything, yet. I just really care about this person, and I don’t want to date anyone else right now. I’m not even sure I want to date him right now. I want to see how it plays out. Take it one day at a time.”

“Are you talking about Nick?” asked Mom. Judy couldn’t read her tone.

“Yeah, Mom. It’s been Nick for a long time.”

She waited, silently preparing her litany of defenses. I know there’s still a stigma. We can handle it. No, I don’t think it’s a problem that we’re partners. We’re both professionals. You already have 573 grandchildren. I haven’t even told him how I feel yet, for crying out loud.

But her mother reached out and drew her into a tight hug. “Okay, Judy. But I hope he’s all right with our usual spread next Solstice. I don’t think I can handle any omnivore dishes.”

---

“Actually, they were really cool about it. I mean, it’s going to take them time to get used to the idea.”

She felt Nick’s tail gently brush the back of her legs. He was smiling now, just a little. “So, tell me about this guy,” he said.

“He’s a wiseass,” said Judy. “Thinks he’s hot stuff. Real slick character.”

“Sounds like a catch.”

"You know it."

Fat snowflakes were falling around them, thick and fast. They clung to Nick’s fur and whiskers. He looked good in the snow. But then, he looked good everywhere. Judy squeezed his paw. He squeezed back.

“I love you, Nick.”

“I love you too, Judy.”

She’d always pictured it being a bigger moment. She thought she’d bare her soul to him over a nice dinner somewhere, with wine and candles. It would be an announcement, a production. Instead it had just kind of come out, easy as a puff of steamy breath in the snow, as they stood outside a house full of grisly secrets on Plow Street.

She was okay with that. There would be time for a big production later.

“Chief’s going to be here soon,” she said quietly. “You gonna be okay to go back in there?”

“Do I know you’ve always got my back? Yes. Yes, I do.”