Catnapped! by Elaine Viets

nodded.
    Helen jumped in with another question: “Did the kidnapper give any details about what time and where you’ll make the exchange?”
    “He said he’d call me the morning it’s due with the details,” Trish said. “He warned me not to contact the police.” She gave a delicate, ladylike snort, almost a dainty sneeze. “As if they’d do anything.”
    “He doesn’t want you to make advance plans,” Phil said. “Helen and I will be with you that morning. We’ll stay the night, if you want. Did the kidnapper say anything else?”
    “I tried to tell him what Justine eats and the brand of litter she uses, but he hung up on me.”
    “Have you filed a police report for your stolen cat?” Phil asked.
    “Why? They won’t look for her,” Trish said.
    “Good idea,” Nancie said. “We’ll need it to claim the cat and go after the catnapper.”
    “How do we prove it’s your cat?” Helen said. “Does she wear a collar and tags?”
    “She’s microchipped,” Trish said.
    “Good,” Helen said. “What is the kidnapper’s phone number?”
    “He didn’t give me one,” Trish said.
    “The number he called you from should be in your cell.”
    “Oh. Right,” Trish said. “I didn’t think of that. Here. You look. I’m afraid I’ll hit the wrong button and wipe it out.”
    She handed Helen her cell phone, and the detective checked the incoming calls list. “There’s a call at four seventeen p.m. todaywith a 713 area code,” she said. “It’s your only call after you called Nancie at eleven fifty-six.”
    “That’s a Houston area code,” Phil said. “Do you know anyone in that city?”
    Trish looked puzzled. “No,” she said. “I don’t know anyone in Texas.”
    “My guess is the catnapper’s cell phone is a throwaway,” Phil said. “To know for sure, we’d have to get the records from the cell phone company, which takes a court order or a subpoena.”
    “Don’t you know a friendly cop who can check for you?” Trish asked.
    “That only works in the movies,” Phil said. “The laws and department oversight have been tightened. Now cops risk their jobs for a stunt like that.”
    “Let’s assume we have a sensible catnapper who used a burner phone,” Nancie said. “We have more important things to investigate. Find the kidnapper and you’ve got Mort’s killer.”
    Trish melted into tears again. “Mort loved Justine,” she said. “He wouldn’t let anyone take our baby. He fought for her to the death.”
    Murder has transformed Mort into a saint, Helen thought. We need some information before Trish completely canonizes him. “Who would want to kill your husband?” she asked. “Did Mort have any enemies? Maybe an unhappy client?”
    “I don’t think any of his financial clients were unhappy. I didn’t understand the details of what he did, but he made lots of money.”
    “What about his love life?” Phil said.
    “Mort is—I mean, was—seeing two women. One is Jan Kurtz, an assistant for Deidre Chatwood. Dee breeds and exhibits prizewinning show cats—Persians. Her cattery is called Chatwood’s Champions. She’s had at least one national champion in the Gold Cup Cat Fanciers’ Association.
    “Mort’s other girlfriend, Amber Waves, calls herself an actress,” Trish said, and sniffed. She wasn’t crying, she was sneering. “Some career. She had a scene as an extra in the movie
Rock of Ages
with Tom Cruise. That was filmed in Fort Lauderdale, you know. Amber was in the pole-dancing scene.
    “Two seconds of show business went to her head. Now she wants to open her own studio. She tells everyone, ‘Pole dancing is a respectable fitness workout, and I’m an actress. Did I tell about my scene with Tom Cruise?’ Whether you want to hear it or not, she’ll give you the details.”
    “Is Amber Waves her real name?” Phil asked.
    “Nothing on that girl is real,” Trish said.
    “Mort was also giving financial advice to an important cat show judge, Lexie