So what was he covering up? And why?

He didn’t answer his phone.

He wasn’t at his hotel.

Cooper strode down the hallway to Mel Owen’s hospital room. As he approached, he heard male voices coming from Mel’s room.

Bingo.

He stepped through the doorway. Harry Owen slumped in a chair by his father’s bed. His lawyer Randall Barrett sat opposite him, tired but alert.

Damn. He hadn’t wanted to deal with legal counsel right now.

Both men turned in surprise when Cooper approached. “Mr. Owen, I need to speak with you.”

Harry and Randall rose simultaneously. A faint odor of alcohol radiated from Harry. He had changed his clothes and now wore running shoes, jeans, a navy t-shirt and windbreaker.

“I already gave my statement.” Harry’s tone was as close to hostile as a Canadian politician in an election year dared get.

Randall threw his client a warning look.

“Mr. Owen, we have received information that Aiden Boyne has planned another exploit.”

Harry Owen paled.

“Are you concerned that this exploit involves Mr. Owen’s family or his department?” Randall Barrett asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cooper noticed the end of a cord hanging out of Harry’s jacket pocket. “Yes, in fact we believe it relates directly to data that was downloaded from Mr. Owen’s computer.”

The nurse stepped into the room. Cooper held out an arm. “I’m sorry, but unless this is life or death, we need complete privacy.”

Randall Barrett frowned.

“I was going to check his vitals. I can come back.”

“Please instruct the staff that no one is to enter until I give the go-ahead,” Cooper added. He suspected his edict was pushing the boundaries of his authority, but there was no time to take Harry Owen to the station for an interview. They needed information now. And he didn’t want anyone getting wind of a terrorist plan.

The nurse nodded, backing out of the room.

The Member of Parliament looked as if he might throw up. “What kind of exploit? With what data?”

“Aiden Boyne is planning a terrorist attack, Mr. Owen. And we believe it is some kind of cyber exploit with the city’s infrastructure.”

“Jesus Christ,” Harry whispered. He sank onto the chair.

“We need to know possible targets.”

* * *

Harry put a hand over his eyes. Then he let his hand fall. No more hiding.

His gaze met Detective Ellis’. “I’m being blackmailed by Aiden Boyne. And he wanted me to meet him at the airport.” The words rang in the room.

He almost collapsed from the release of the weight in his chest.

Randall Barrett gave him a look that was both compassionate and caution-filled.

The detective’s gaze sharpened. “At what time?”

“Five a.m.”

Detective Ellis checked his watch. “It’s 4:01. Were you planning to go to the rendezvous?”

“No. I had changed my mind.” He threw an involuntary look at his father.