Amelia shook her head. “I don’t use the house address on anything. I have an address from the PO Box company that looks like a residential address. I have nothing to do with that house, apart from the fact that, technically, I own it.”
“You live on the property.”
“I don’t use this name.” Amelia tapped the paper with her index finger. “I don’t claim that address. I don’t need anyone finding out my personal business, and I’ve been trying to sell the house for years. No one will buy it.”
Basuto stared at her, and crow’s feet flexed around his eyes in his dark skin. “And the money?”
“What money?” She looked at the paper. “Whose account is this? Because I could use the cash to pay the outrageous taxes on the house I don’t want. Maybe they can help me out.”
It couldn’t be her brother.
Who would fake a bank account to look like she had tons of cash coming and going? And why would they even need to do that?
It was absolutely something Nicholas would have done, but she hadn’t seen him in years. Tried not to think about him at all. If it hadn’t been for Cherry showing up in town, she’d have maintained her streak another while. Each day with him out of her life was one closer to being completely free of him and the hold he’d had on her.
“This man”—Jessica tapped the surveillance photo—“confessed to causing the explosion at the apartment fire and the fire at Wiltern Road.”
Her childhood home.
Making her wonder if she was a target—putting her on edge so that she saw things Nicholas would’ve done in the actions of everyone around her.
Basuto continued. “He says you paid him to be there and told him exactly what to do.”
“Paid him.” She shifted the bank statement paper toward him. “With this, I suppose?”
“You tell me.”
Amelia sat back in the chair. “Guess the case is closed, then.”
“You’re admitting you hired this man to endanger firefighters?”
“As soon as you answer one thing for me.” Amelia glanced between them.
“What’s that?” Jessica asked. Animated now—as if she’d been looking for an explanation.
She pointed to a particular transaction. “See that deposit? Cash, in person?”
Both cops nodded.
“I worked a twenty-four-hour shift that day to cover for the B-shift lieutenant, Albert Morris. Started at six the night before, ended at six that day—after banks close. Ask my coworkers on that shift, but that day, I can tell you we worked back-to-back calls, and I never had the truck detour to the bank. We don’t do that. We run errands on our days off.”
“You weren’t supposed to be working that day?” Jessica asked.
Amelia nodded. “I covered for him as a favor at the last minute. So it wasn’t me who deposited that money. Which has to make you wonder if I deposited any of that money. Do you know who did? Banks have surveillance cameras, don’t they?”
Jessica pulled another image out of the file. A woman, definitely. Blonde hair hung down her back, but her head was covered with an oversized straw hat so there was no shot of her face.
“Clever.”
Basuto huffed. “You expect us to believe someone is setting you up?”
Amelia leaned forward in the chair, her forearms on the table. “I expect you to do your jobs. As in, follow the evidence and find the person responsible for the crime.Beyond a reasonable doubt. Isn’t that how it goes in court?”
She slid her chair back and stood. “You said I was free to go at any time.”
Jessica nodded, a slight smile on her face.
“Then bye.”