It’s always the husband

Or the boyfriend

Or better yet the soon to be ex

Everyone knows that

A home transformed into a crime scene

A life outlined in white tape

Marriage become motive

And everyone is Sherlock

Accusing looks over the cubicle walls

Cold shoulders at church

Razor sharp whispers in the supermarket aisle

Everyone knows who did it

After the funeral

After the case cools

After the reporters move on

All that remains is suspicion

And one bankers box

Cardboard

her name neatly handwritten on the outside

DNA from a coworker from fingernail scrapings tucked inside

Waits on an evidence room shelf of a small town police station