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An hour later, as Febe drove up to the house, her cell phone rang. She pulled over and glanced at the display. It was Trey Heart.
What a sweet name, she thought to herself.
Even his name sounded charming.
Okay, stop that now Febe. You’ve sworn off men, remember?
“Hello,” she answered professionally.
“Hey, Febe. It’s Trey.”
“Hey, Trey.”
“Listen, I did what you asked and I checked out some of the other suspects. I also went back to the area where the body was found. You’re right. There was another bike track. Can’t seem to place the make. Based on the tire marks it looks as if some sort of foreign ride.”
“Foreign, huh?”
“Yes, as in one that’s not even made any more.”
Febe thought for a moment. “Okay, Trey. Thanks a lot. I think I know what I’m looking for now. I know a few collectors.”
“You do?”
“Yes, at the Frutenac Comic Store in Toronto. This guy’s really good. He collects and sells rare comics and other stuff.”
“Please be careful Febe. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Oh, I will, Trey. Trust me. I don’t want to get hurt again either.”
“Again?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” The last thing she wanted to do was get Trey involved in her pitiful love life or lack of right now.
Febe glanced at her watch. Time was running out. She had hours to piece this puzzle together before the real killer struck again or got away.