Det. Debra Worthington opened the door of her unmarked, grabbing the gun from the passenger’s seat and holstering it as she got out of the car. She had gotten the call on her work phone to go talk to Slim Teason because he said he had some information for her about the murder and needed to see her right away.

“Where are you?” Debra asked, inwardly groaning. Slim was one of the street informants that she had nurtured over the years, but he could be a real pain in the behind.

“Regular spot. You know. On Third.” Slim was already slurring his words, and Debra knew that “regular spot” was Buddy’s Bar and that most likely Slim had been there most of the afternoon and Buddy had plied him with a good many PBR’s by now.

Despite her misgivings that Slim had anything to report, she knew she ought to follow up on his call, so here she was. This was the tedium of police work; the bits and pieces of information that had to be investigated and duly noted in her notes when she got back to the station. It didn’t matter if Slim mostly just blathered on, once in a while he actually had heard some street talk that had proved useful, and Debra needed all the help she could get on this case. The victim was a prominent attorney, the daughter of a state legislator, and had been found shot to death in her office a week ago. There was nothing in her office besides her and the bullet in her forehead that had given them even a clue as to why someone had taken her out. On the surface, she was a good tax attorney but had never had any clients connected to any criminal activity. She had been married, no kids, and she and her husband were known philanthropists who donated to several arts groups in the city. The husband was a surgeon and well respected by his colleagues and the staff at Mercy Hospital.

But the victim was dead and usually people didn’t get shot in the head unless the killer had a motive. Debra just had to figure out who had that motive.

“Hey there, you.” Slim waved to her from his corner bar stool when Debra walked in. Buddy, working the bar, nodded at her and then went back to wiping glasses. “I got some news for ya!” Slim was, as she had suspected, pretty far gone into Pabst Blue Ribbon lalaland, his eyelids halfway down his eyes, and his elbows propped on the bar which most likely because he was having problems not sliding off the stool.

Debra walked over and sat on the stool next to him, and Buddy raised his eyebrows at her and then brought her a glass of soda water with a slice of lime and set it down in front of her.

“Thanks, Buddy,” she said and took a long sip before turning to Slim. “So what’s up, Slim.”

“Told ya. I got info. You want it, you buy.” He gestured to the lineup of beer cans in front of him. Debra counted seven, but for Slim, that was taking it easy on the drinking.

“Put two on me,” Debra said to Buddy and then turned back to Slim. “Okay, so what did you drag me down here to tell me? It better be good, Slim, because I am up to my ears in work and pressure to figure out why Alexa DuMont is in the morgue.”

“Heard her husband had a tootie on the side.” Slim grinned at her, showing the few teeth he still had in his head, and taking another drink from his beer. “I got a cousin who cleans at Mercy, and she says it was a known fact the good doctor was stepping out with one of the nurses.”

“Uh-huh. And this cousin actually saw them together?”

“You know it’s not like that.”

“So what’s it like?”

“Hospital gossip. But my cousin says everyone says it.”

“What’s your cousin’s name? I’ll need to talk to her, find out what she thinks she knows.”

“Her name?”

Debra stared at Slim and shook her head. “Do you actually have a cousin who works at Mercy, Slim?”

Slim stared back. She could see his besotted brain trying to figure out what to say, but he finally just put his head down on the bar and Debra could hear him snoring. She looked at Buddy who was grinning, and Debra had the urge to smack them both, but she stood and threw a couple of tens on the counter. What a colossal waste of time, was what she was thinking as she stood up and began to walk to the door. She almost got there when Buddy called out to her

“Hey! Deb! If it is any consolation and if you want to check it out, Slim really does have some type of cousin three times removed on his mother’s side and she does have a job at Mercy. Her name is Letitia Jameson.”

“Thanks, Buddy. Why do I think this is another go-nowhere tip?”

Buddy just laughed. “You never know. You just never know.”

“True that.”

She pulled open the door and headed to her car, knowing in spite of her gut instincts she would go to Mercy and do some discreet asking around about both this Cousin Letitia and the good doctor. One never knew. Just never knew.