“His gun was stolen,” she insisted. “Whoever mugged and shot those poor women wasn't my son.”
“Did he report it stolen?” Jonathon asked, knowing full well Lennox Tyson had not reported his registered weapon stolen.
“He doesn’t trust the police.”
“It wasn't the police’s fault that your son decided to live on the wrong side of the law.” He was so sick of hearing criminals blame everyone but themselves for their choices. “You’ve been helping him. Is he staying here?”
“He’s not here,” Agnes stated firmly.
“So, hehasbeen staying here. Is he …?” he broke off as something clunked inside the house.
Allina was on her feet and in the hall before he could even stand up. He was hot on her heels as they headed for the back of the house. As they entered the kitchen a face appeared in the doorway to the basement.
Lennox Tyson.
Panic raced across his face then he turned and darted back down the steps.
“There’s an exterior door too,” Allina called over her shoulder as she threw open the basement door and followed Lennox down.
Leaving his partner, Jonathon flew out the back door and rounded the house to the side entrance that led directly to the basement apartment. There was no sign of Lennox so he assumed that Allina had already cuffed him. He threw open the door just as Lennox swung a fist at his partner, connecting with her face. Allina went sprawling to the floor.
Jonathon was on the man before Lennox could turn around. Pinning him to the floor, he snapped cuffs on then turned to his partner. Blood was pouring down her face, she was staggering to her feet, but swayed unsteadily.
With Lennox subdued, he left him and went to Allina, grasping her elbow to steady her. “Ali?”
“My nose. I think he broke it,” she replied. “I'm okay.”
He quickly maneuvered her to the nearest chair. She tried to resist, but Allina was tiny and he was over six foot tall, so getting her seated was easy. “Let me look.” Taking hold of her chin, he carefully tilted her face up. She gasped in pain as he gently prodded around her nose. “Sorry,” he murmured. “That is definitely broken. Here.” He handed her a handkerchief from his pocket, “Use this to try to stem the bleeding.”
Allina took the handkerchief and pressed it to her nose, then sunk back against the chair and closed her eyes.
Reverting his attention back to Lennox Tyson, he saw the man had apparently given up and was just lying there. “You're awfully quiet, nothing to say for yourself?” Jonathon grabbed the man’s shoulder and yanked him to his feet. “We can now add assaulting a police officer to your growing list of charges.”
Despondent brown eyes stared back at him. Lennox was in his mid-forties but looked closer in age to his seventy-six-year-old mother. Years of drug use had taken their toll on him. His face was thin and scarred with dozens of pale pink circles, his teeth were permanently stained yellow, and his eyes were bloodshot. “I didn’t do it,” he mumbled.
“Didn’t do what?”
“I didn’t mug no one.”
Barely resisting the urge to point out the double negative meant that hehadmugged someone. “Four muggings. Four bullets fired from your gun, one at each scene. Why should I believe you?” He didn’t want to admit it, but something in Lennox’s face had him doubting that the man was involved.
“I don’t have the gun anymore.”
“Yeah, your mom said it wasstolen,” Jonathon scoffed.
His gaze dropped to the floor. “I sold it,” he muttered.
“Sold it?”
“For drug money.” A hint of red tinted his pale face.
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
“Do you know Naomi Candella?”
“Who?”