Free The Carolina Coup: Another Rwandan Genocide? (The Jeannine Ryan Series Book 4) by James E. Mosimann

below.
    “The trunk’s locked.  I can’t open it.  Get the doc’s keys.”
    Hugh turned as Dr. Smets tossed the keys through the air in a high arc.  Hugh reacted instinctively.  He lowered the Glock and stretched his free hand towards the flying metal.
    In that second a desperate Smets was upon him.
    Hugh Byrd was bigger and stronger than Smets, but the latter’s surging adrenalin gave him a momentary advantage.  The Glock was twisted from Hugh’s hand and sent skittering across the floor while a ceramic lamp was seized and brought down on Hugh’s head.  He crumpled to the floor.
    From below, Tom Holder heard the sounds of the struggle and rushed up the stairs only to find a dazed Hugh sitting on the floor amid chards of a shattered lamp and the glass doors to the deck wide open.
    Tom stepped through the doors to the deck and looked over the rail.  No one.
    Dr. Smets had jumped.  He was gone.
    Tom helped the stunned Hugh to a seat.  He handed him his Glock and retrieved the keys from the floor.  Then he ran down the stairs to Smets’ car.
    He opened the trunk.  It was empty.
    No Bill Hamm!
***
    Stew Marks was frustrated.  He had found no trace of Bill Hamm at the Maynard house, though from its proximity to Hamm’s burned vehicle he was sure that Hamm had been a recent occupant.  Was that Hamm’s blood on the floor?  Had he been the prisoner? That makes no sense, or does it?
    Moreover Stew had no explanation for the new laboratory equipment he had found there, or for the marine aquaria.
    The refrigerator had not been stocked with food for a lengthy stay.  Either Hamm had not planned to be there long, or he had been too pressed by pursuit to stock up fully.
    Curiously, Stew had found several unopened bottles of Sodium thiopental in the fridge.  He knew that drug by its trade name, Sodium Pentothal.  What use had Hamm for that?  For the prisoner?
    He called his partner Jack in Wilmington.  Stew described his misgivings about the Maynard house.
    “I’m sure Hamm was there, but he’s gone.  There was no trace of Ryan.  You stay in Wilmington, Hamm may be headed that way.  I’m going to spend the night on the island.  My guess is that Hamm is nearby.”
    He added.
    “And Jack, get a forensics team out there to check the house.  There are some odd things about that place.  I’m starting to wonder about Hamm.”
    “Will do, but don’t wonder too much about Hamm.  The guy is a rat.  And the boss in DC called.  He wants us to fry this scumbag.  I do too.  I told you what he did to me at the hearing on the Unity Pavilion.”
    Stew paused.  For sure, Hamm had stolen the documents.
    “OK, Jack.”
    But Stew did not tell Jack that there was no sign that Jeannine Ryan had been at the Maynard house, no indication of a feminine presence.
    Maybe Ryan’s OK?  Maybe she doesn’t know anything?
    He shook his head clear.  The woman was good looking and had spunk, but such traits were found as often in the guilty as in the innocent.
    Cool it, Stew, you have a job to do .  This isn’t like you.
    Once in his car, his objectivity reasserted itself.  As he drove to Surf City, he had a single question.
    Hamm, what were you doing at the Maynard house?
***
    The small power boat cruised the Intracoastal Waterway near Permuda Island while Jimmy Sands scanned the dark marsh edge with the searchlight.
    “Slow down Amy.  I saw something.  It might be a turtle.”
    “Jimmy, my dad wants me back by midnight.  Besides it’s late for turtle nesting, and anyway they nest on the beach side.”
    “I know, but I saw something over there by the mouth of that creek.  If it is a turtle, it must be sick, stranded on the mudflat like that.  Head over there, it will only take a minute. We could tow it to the turtle rehab hospital on Topsail.”
    “It’s my dad’s boat, and what you are saying will take more than a minute.”
    “Amy, please.  Your dad will understand.  Please.”
    At that final