it was safe. She had to go dark.
Why? Why would he risk all that? Does he think he can blackmail Perry by himself? Does he think we wouldn’t have made good on his deal? Whatever the reasoning, there was no way that Moringer would be able to go to Homeland now. The moment Moringer revealed any knowledge about the operation, he’d be thrown out of the agency and tried for treason, along with Cooper and Diaz. The only hope that Cooper had now was to get to Dylan first to try and convince him that there was another way.
The house where Dylan was staying with his first mate was empty, with the exception of the old furniture inside. Cooper knew the place was probably being watched by Perry, but she didn’t have time to be coy. Each second that passed was one less in which Homeland, or Perry, could find him.
Cooper checked the marina and security footage in the area but found nothing. The only other option left to her was looking up the ex-wife, although she doubted that Dylan would get her involved. Still, it couldn’t hurt her chances to check.
The neighborhood had changed slightly since the last time Cooper visited. The well-kept streets and yards had been replaced and covered with trash, the houses etched in graffiti, windows boarded up, and not a single light on that she could see. Apparently the wealthy were not immune to the power outages that plagued the rest of the city.
Cooper pulled into the driveway and saw that the ex-Mrs. Turk’s home was in the same condition as the others. Trash, boards, and no sign that anyone was even home. She kept one hand on the pistol at her side as she walked to the front door. She gave a few knocks then tried peeking between the cracks of the boards over the windows to see inside. With no answer, she knocked harder. “Mrs. Harth? Are you home?”
The turn of the lock on the front door clicked open, then the door opened just a sliver. “What?”
Cooper could only see a fraction of Mrs. Harth’s face, but what she did see looked in bad shape. “Mrs. Harth, I don’t know if you remember me or not, but—”
“I remember who you are, Agent Cooper. What do you want?” Her words shot out the door like blasts of ice in a snowstorm, and despite the still blazing-hot temperatures, Cooper felt a chill run up her spine.
“I need to talk to you about your ex-husband and your son. Can I come in?”
The sliver in the door remained open for half a second then abruptly closed. After standing there for more than a minute, Cooper thought Evelyn had left, but then the door jerked open and there she was, wrapped in a robe, her hair frizzled and unwashed, dark circles under her eyes and red blotches on her cheeks and neck. Whatever she’d been getting into didn’t seem to be healthy. “You heard what he did? It’s all over the news on the radio. They’re saying Dylan was a part of all this. The attacks.”
Cooper stepped inside. The house was even more humid and stuffy than the air outside. “Mrs. Harth, I can’t get into the specifics of what Dylan did or did not do at this time, but I was wondering if you’ve spoken to him lately? Or maybe even seen him?”
Evelyn turned and marched away without a word. Cooper followed, although not knowing if her leaving was an invitation or not.
The kitchen was dirtied with opened cans of food, liquor bottles, and beer cans. Evelyn reached for one of the half-empty vodka bottles and a cup then filled it. “I spoke to him a few days ago.” She took a sip, winced, then made her way to the couch.
Cooper took a minute to stop and listen, but she heard no other voices inside the house. “Mrs. Harth, where are your husband and daughter?”
“Peter took Mary to the second home in upstate New York. He figured it would be safer up there.” She curled herself onto the couch and sipped the vodka that seemed to soak through both her and the house. The stale stench of old liquor and beer left a nasty sting in Cooper’s nostrils.
“Why didn’t
Why? Why would he risk all that? Does he think he can blackmail Perry by himself? Does he think we wouldn’t have made good on his deal? Whatever the reasoning, there was no way that Moringer would be able to go to Homeland now. The moment Moringer revealed any knowledge about the operation, he’d be thrown out of the agency and tried for treason, along with Cooper and Diaz. The only hope that Cooper had now was to get to Dylan first to try and convince him that there was another way.
The house where Dylan was staying with his first mate was empty, with the exception of the old furniture inside. Cooper knew the place was probably being watched by Perry, but she didn’t have time to be coy. Each second that passed was one less in which Homeland, or Perry, could find him.
Cooper checked the marina and security footage in the area but found nothing. The only other option left to her was looking up the ex-wife, although she doubted that Dylan would get her involved. Still, it couldn’t hurt her chances to check.
The neighborhood had changed slightly since the last time Cooper visited. The well-kept streets and yards had been replaced and covered with trash, the houses etched in graffiti, windows boarded up, and not a single light on that she could see. Apparently the wealthy were not immune to the power outages that plagued the rest of the city.
Cooper pulled into the driveway and saw that the ex-Mrs. Turk’s home was in the same condition as the others. Trash, boards, and no sign that anyone was even home. She kept one hand on the pistol at her side as she walked to the front door. She gave a few knocks then tried peeking between the cracks of the boards over the windows to see inside. With no answer, she knocked harder. “Mrs. Harth? Are you home?”
The turn of the lock on the front door clicked open, then the door opened just a sliver. “What?”
Cooper could only see a fraction of Mrs. Harth’s face, but what she did see looked in bad shape. “Mrs. Harth, I don’t know if you remember me or not, but—”
“I remember who you are, Agent Cooper. What do you want?” Her words shot out the door like blasts of ice in a snowstorm, and despite the still blazing-hot temperatures, Cooper felt a chill run up her spine.
“I need to talk to you about your ex-husband and your son. Can I come in?”
The sliver in the door remained open for half a second then abruptly closed. After standing there for more than a minute, Cooper thought Evelyn had left, but then the door jerked open and there she was, wrapped in a robe, her hair frizzled and unwashed, dark circles under her eyes and red blotches on her cheeks and neck. Whatever she’d been getting into didn’t seem to be healthy. “You heard what he did? It’s all over the news on the radio. They’re saying Dylan was a part of all this. The attacks.”
Cooper stepped inside. The house was even more humid and stuffy than the air outside. “Mrs. Harth, I can’t get into the specifics of what Dylan did or did not do at this time, but I was wondering if you’ve spoken to him lately? Or maybe even seen him?”
Evelyn turned and marched away without a word. Cooper followed, although not knowing if her leaving was an invitation or not.
The kitchen was dirtied with opened cans of food, liquor bottles, and beer cans. Evelyn reached for one of the half-empty vodka bottles and a cup then filled it. “I spoke to him a few days ago.” She took a sip, winced, then made her way to the couch.
Cooper took a minute to stop and listen, but she heard no other voices inside the house. “Mrs. Harth, where are your husband and daughter?”
“Peter took Mary to the second home in upstate New York. He figured it would be safer up there.” She curled herself onto the couch and sipped the vodka that seemed to soak through both her and the house. The stale stench of old liquor and beer left a nasty sting in Cooper’s nostrils.
“Why didn’t
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