Evidence, by Ann-Louise Truschel

The old lady was battered beyond recognition.

“Whoever did this’ll have blood all over them. I’ll notify next-of-kin.”

The detective reached the daughter’s house just as she was leaving, gym bag in hand. He broke the news and drove her, sobbing, to the hospital to make identification.

Afterward he took her home.

“You forgot your gym bag.”

“I guess I left it at the hospital.”

A hospital nurse finds a gym bag with no identification and opens it to discover bloody jeans, teeshirt, and shoes.

“Probably clothes from a trauma victim,” she thinks as she consigns them to the incinerator.

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