JOE WALKED THROUGH the sliding doors leading into Harris’s emergency room and approached the counter. A few moments later he was traveling toward room twelve and looking into the eyes of his gunshot victim.
“Jake Traylore?”
The young man shifted on the thin mattress and winced. “That’s me.”
“I’m Joe Wallace. I’m a detective with the Fort Worth Police Department. Need to ask you about what happened tonight.”
“That asshole shot me,” Traylore grumbled as the nurse took his blood pressure. “A.T. is mad cause Lana moved on. He thinks I stole her from him. Like she’s some sort of property, or something.” His nose wrinkled in disgust at his rival’s mindset. “She’s better off with me. I treat her like you’re supposed to treat a lady.”
“I’m sure you do,” Joe soothed. “What’s her last name?”
“
