The Misti Trust.

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"How do you spell her name?" I ask, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

"M-I-S-T-I." McCartwright replies.

"That's unusual." I quickly type it in.

"My wife picked it out." You can hear the love and protectiveness in his voice when he talks about his family. I've looked over his rap sheet, and all of his crimes have been those of a desperate, unemployed father trying to support his family. "Emiline's going to kill me when she sees it on the news."

I turn my eyes from the screen. "You didn't tell her? This is important. She wasn't aware?"

Jim shakes his head violently. "No, Officer Wilde, she wouldn't condone any of this. I wanted her to be able to take care of the girls if I got locked up. She wasn't an accomplice." He pulls slightly on his cuffs.

I twitch my long tail, sweeping the floor. "That's good. We'll have to investigate further, but your daughters will most likely get to keep their mother. There. We're finished. Now I just have to make a few calls, and I bet we'll have the money we need within a couple of days. Do you want to call your wife and give her the news?"

__________________________________

I walk in on Nick making a phone call in our office, with a self-satisfied look on his red and white face. He puts a finger to his lips, and I nod.

"News Team Six? Nick Wilde here,- Yes, I know-I'm calling because-listen, I need a favor. Yep. Uh huh. It's a deal. I'll email you the details. Thank you, bye." He smiles at me as he hangs up, laying his smartpaw on his desk.

"What's up, fluff?" He spins in his chair, making it go around and around.

I grin back at him, unable to resist myself. "Nothing much, just wanted to make sure we're still on for movie night? At your place?"

"Oh, yeah. Guess what movie we're watching? Furassic World!"

I groan. "Again? Nick, this is the third time in a row!"

"I know." His grin turns slightly evil. "Payback for all those romances."

I huff at him and deliberately turn my back to him. I start working on my never ending stack of paperwork. I hear the rustle of paper from his desk, and assume he's doing the same. I should have known better. A paper airplane hits me in the shoulder. This is a common method of communication in our office, so I carefully unfold it and read the message.

I love you, you know.

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