“Probably thought it would make the body harder to identify,” Roy’s father answered. “Maybe she had a tattoo on it.”

     “I didn’t think nuns had tattoos.”

     “She could have got it before she became a nun.”

     “He’ll probably dump the arm somewhere, Dad, don’t you think?”

     “I guess. Don’t ever get a tattoo, son. There might come a day you won’t want to be recognized. It’s better if you don’t have any identifying marks on your body.”

     By the time they reached Ocala, the sun was coming up. Roy’s father checked them into a hotel and when they got to their room he asked Roy if he wanted to use the bathroom.

     “No, Dad, you can go first.”

     Roy’s father laughed. “What’s the matter, son? Afraid there’ll be a body in the bathtub?”