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can’t make promises.”
    Ainsley smiled. “Too late, Bobby. You just did. Get the presses ready. I plan on giving you one hell of a scoop.”

Chapter 6
    A insley brought her car to a stop and glanced at the huge sign. Entering Barrett Shores. You’re not welcome unless you were invited.
    Well, she thought. You couldn’t get any clearer than that. She then looked ahead at the bridge in front of her, the one that would take her across the Port Royal Sound to the island. The first question that came to her mind was whether or not it was safe. It was made of wood and the planks didn’t look sturdy enough to hold a cart much less a car. But tire tracks ingrained in the wooden surface over time indicated vehicles had driven across without making the old bridge come tumbling down. She compressed her lips deciding she would take her chances. What choice did she have if she wanted her old job back?
    Humming “Nearer, My God, to Thee,” she put her car in Drive and slowly moved ahead. As soon as her front tire touched the plank, she held her breath and tried taking her mind off the lack of sturdiness of the bridge by noticing the beauty of the surrounding area. Through the tall oak trees peeked the blue-green of the Atlantic Ocean. The view was simply breathtaking.
    She released a sigh of relief when she made it off the bridge and lifted her head to give thanks. Hopefully, she’d be going back across before dark. If old man Chambers didn’t agree to the interview she would be leaving the island a lot sooner than that. Refusing to consider he wouldn’t do the interview, she squared her shoulders and drove on, following the one-lane road that, according to her GPS, would lead her right to the sanctuary where Dr. R. J. Chambers lived and worked. She had spent the last two days trying to get as much information on the man as she could. There had been plenty, on his Facebook page and in Wikipedia. Both of those had provided a picture of a distinguished-looking man in his late sixties or early seventies. However, nothing she’d researched had provided anything else about his identity and whereabouts. Bobby was right. The man was living the life of a recluse.
    She rounded a curve in the road and quickly brought the car to a stop when her breath caught. “Wow!”
    Ainsley wasn’t exactly sure what she had expected of Chambers’s home but it definitely hadn’t been this. The view while driving across the bridge had been spectacular, but this here was so magnificent it actually left her breathless.
    Tucked away amid the tallest oak trees she’d ever seen was a sprawling three-story house with over eight hundred feet of beachfront. It was early January, yet all the leaves were a deep evergreen. It was as if spring had come early here while some places farther north were snow covered.
    The house itself looked as if it could hold four or five families easily. But she figured most of the rooms were where Dr. Chambers did his work. The man usually published a book every eighteen months, in addition to being a regular contributor to numerous marine publications. But the drug before the FDA was rumored to be his biggest achievement yet and already several pharmaceutical companies wanted his named linked to their corporation. So far he had committed to none.
    Her gaze traveled to the sky, saw the strength of the sun and how it appeared to kiss the blue-green waters of the ocean. She could imagine waking up to such a view every morning. The old man was a recluse and now she could see why. If she had this at her fingertips, she would never leave the island, either. She could imagine sitting on the docks nursing a margarita while enjoying the view of endless water. She wasn’t surprised that a man, successful in the study of eliminating sexual dysfunction, would live on a private island like a king.
    After parking the car, she got out and glanced around. She expected a member of Chambers’s staff to appear and tell her that she was