Don't Make a Sound (Sawyer Brooks #1)(80)

“Sure.”

“I’ve been told that this man, Zach Jordan, was here last week. He stayed until closing, and someone who works here helped him to his car and left his keys under the driver’s seat.”

“That was me,” Ace said.

“Mind if I let you two talk and I cut out?” Travis asked.

“That’s fine,” Sawyer said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Not a problem.”

Sawyer turned her attention back to Ace. “Any chance you recall what time Zach Jordan arrived at the brewery that day?”

“My shift started at six p.m. that night, and that guy there,” he said, pointing at the picture on her phone, “was already sitting at that stool right there.” He pointed to the middle of the bar.

“Did he leave and come back?”

“No.”

“You sound certain about that.”

“I am. It wasn’t a busy night,” Ace said. “I didn’t take a break. And neither did that Zach guy. He threw back a lot of beers and never left that seat. We have cameras that would show him coming and leaving if that would help.”

She wondered why she hadn’t thought of that before. “You’re a saint.”

Ace chuckled. “Yeah, tell that to my wife.” He gestured toward the back. “I better go get Travis. He’s the one you’ll need to talk to about getting video footage.”

By the time Sawyer left the brewery, her adrenaline was soaring. It had taken Travis only ten minutes to find the video from the night of Kylie Hartford’s murder. Although he wasn’t allowed to give Sawyer a copy, he didn’t mind her sitting in his office next to him while he ran through the footage.

Zach Jordan had arrived at Device Brewery in Midtown at 5:45 p.m. and been ushered out by Ace five minutes after midnight. Sawyer thanked Travis once again, stepped out of his office, and called Sean Palmer to ask him if he knew Kylie Hartford’s official time of death.

Palmer said he’d had no reason to request the forensics report, but if it would help her sleep at night, he’d give Detective Perez a call and get back to her, which he did twenty minutes later, just as she arrived back at her sister’s house.

Kylie Hartford’s official time of death had been 10:30 p.m.

They had arrested the wrong man.

Sean Palmer wanted to know what was going on. It was Friday, though, and she had more work to do before she talked to him. He wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed to meet her at 5:00 p.m. in his office.



At 3:42 p.m., Sawyer pulled the car she’d borrowed from Harper to a stop in front of the giant arm, an electronic device used to keep cars from moving on until the driver checked in. She was at Good Day Sacramento in West Sacramento, where Kylie Hartford used to work.

Sawyer leaned out the window and pushed a button, told security she had an appointment with Matthew Westover. After a few seconds, they buzzed her in. Once the chain-link gate slid open, she drove through, made a right, and parked close to the front of a brick building. As she walked toward the main entrance, she saw a CBS sign and a TV tower.

A security guard wearing a standard white button-down shirt and dark pants and shoes handed her a clipboard and asked her to sign in. Again, she was buzzed inside and asked to wait in the lobby.

Matthew Westover appeared shortly after. He was one of the main anchors on the morning show. He sported a French Crop hairstyle and wore a moss-green, fitted suit. A key card and ID hung from his belt.

They shook hands.

“Is there a private room where we could talk?” Sawyer asked. “It won’t take long.”

“Sure. This way.”

He led her down a wide hall, opened the first door to the right, and flipped on the light. Three of the four walls were lined with boxes, but there was a table with chairs. And it was private.

He shut the door, gestured for her to have a seat. “Like I told you on the phone, I only have a few minutes.”

“I’ll get right to it, then. I heard from Kylie Hartford’s neighbor that you and Kylie were dating.”

He smiled. “Dating is a nice way of putting it, but sure, Kylie and I were seeing each other. Not on a regular basis, but if we happened to go out for a drink after work and things worked out, we usually ended up at my place or hers.”

“Were you with Kylie the night of her murder?”

“No. We hadn’t been on a ‘date’ in months. And I hate to be rude. She is dead, so it doesn’t feel right talking about her this way, but since you’re asking, you should know that I wasn’t the only one she slept with.”

“She had a boyfriend,” Sawyer stated.

“Yeah, but that’s not who I’m referring to. I hate to be blunt, but the clock is ticking. Kylie liked sex. All sorts of sex. With lots of different people.”

“Orgies?”

“Not that I know of, but now that I think of it, she’d probably have been up for it. I’m merely telling you that she got around.”

“So she was promiscuous.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Promiscuous. And her boyfriend knew what she was doing.”

Sawyer looked up from her notes. Aria had mentioned the same thing. “How can you be so sure he knew?”

Matthew smirked. “I was right there, naked as a jaybird, when he walked into her apartment and found us in a compromising position. If I’d known she had a boyfriend with a key to her apartment, I would have brought her to my place.”