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

“please” Amy swung the boat about and slowed the engine as they entered the shallow water of the flats.  In turn, Jimmy swung the search light along the border of marsh grass.
    “There it is.  Get closer.  Pull up the motor.  I’ll pole us.”
    Amy tilted the propeller out of the water, while Jimmy pushed one of the oars into the mud and shoved.
    “Jimmy, that’s close enough.  We’ll get stuck.”
    Jimmy nodded and stepped out of the boat.  His foot sank six inches into a muddy bottom that was topped by over a foot of water.  He sloshed towards the unknown form and shone his light on it.
    “Amy!  It’s not a turtle, it’s a man!”
    “Jimmy, don’t joke like that.”
    “Amy, it’s no joke.  This guy is alive.  His head’s on a mat of vegetation and he’s breathing.  Toss me your life vest.  If I can turn him on his back, I think I can float him to the boat.”
    With Amy pulling and Jimmy pushing, they managed to force the unconscious stranger over the side and into the craft.
    Once again Jimmy used an oar to push the boat across the shallow flats.  Several strenuous minutes later they attained the deep water of the Intracoastal Waterway.
    Amy lowered the propeller and revved the motor.  At full speed she headed down the waterway towards Surf City and the Urgent Care Center.
    She could call her father from there.
***
    At his house on Topsail Island, Wayne Johnson looked into Jeannine’s bedroom.  She was asleep on top of the covers.  He loosened the laces of her shoes and slipped them off her feet. 
    He shut her door and looked out the sliding doors.  The air lay still over the abandoned beach.  White lines sparkled in the moonlight where the waves broke over offshore bars.
    Perhaps tomorrow their analyses of the briefcase would lead to Bill’s whereabouts and prove his innocence.
    Wayne went to his room and turned off the light.
    His last thought before he dropped off was a welcome one.
    I’m useful again .
***
    In his room in Surf City, Stew Marks slipped under the sheets.  He lay there, studying the shadows on the ceiling.  Hamm you’re lucky to have a woman like Ryan, spy or not.
***
******

Chapter 9
Friday, August 24
    At Wayne’s beach house, Jeannine Ryan awoke to the aroma of fresh coffee.  She slipped out of bed.  Her jeans had slept-in wrinkles, but she opted to keep them on.  Who cares?  I’m not going anywhere.   This is the beach, right?
    At the table her laptop had been moved to make room for a plate filled with eggs, bacon and home fries.  She sat and Wayne appeared with a cup of coffee.
    “Wayne, you’re spoiling me.”
    “Why not?  Eat up.”
    Jeannine stabbed a potato chunk with her fork and spun it in the yellow yolk of an egg.  She looked up as Wayne went to the door.
    “Jeannine, I have to go.  A neighbor says that two teens, turtle-patrol volunteers, pulled a man out of the Intracoastal Waterway last night.  They took him to the Urgent Care Center in Surf City.  This morning an ambulance took the guy to Onslow Memorial Hospital in Jacksonville.  He’s in bad shape.  From his description he could be Bill.”
    She jumped from her chair.
    “I’m going with you.”
    “No.  You keep eating.  It’s going to be a long day and besides this may be a bum lead.  It may not be Bill.”
    She glared, but he was not intimidated.
    “Look, no one knows you’re here.  Let’s keep it that way.  Whoever followed you to Camp Geiger knows you have the briefcase.  No one knows me, I’ll go.  You relax and eat.”
    He pointed to the documents strewn on the table.
    “And work on those papers if you want to help Bill.”
    Jeannine wanted to argue, but he was right.
    “All right, Wayne.”
    “Stay inside.  I’ll be back in a two hours.  If this guy in the hospital is Bill, these people are killers.”
    He left.  Jeannine rose and threw the deadbolt on the door. She went back to the table, pushed her plate aside and replaced it with the