her old job back. The sooner she could return to New York and the life she’d had there the better.
“Sort of. Like I told you, with the economy the way it is the paper isn’t hiring or doing rehires … except for special projects. I think I’ve come up with a freelance piece I can bring you back to write if you’re interested.”
“What’s it about?”
“Not what but who. Ever heard of Dr. R. J. Chambers?”
A frown burrowed her brow. “No.”
“But you have heard of the prescription drug Norjamin.”
“Yes, although it’s still pending approval by the FDA, it’s the drug that’s supposed to run rings around Viagra. I’ve heard it’s better all the way around with minimum side effects.”
“That’s good news all the way around, and Chambers is the marine biologist who was the mastermind behind that pill. His identity is a heavily guarded secret. The only thing anyone knows about him is from what’s going through social media. But I have a lead that Chambers is working on this remote island off Hilton Head. I want to put you on it right away. The paper will cover everything.”
“Okay.” Additional time on Hilton Head wouldn’t be so bad, especially when the last weather report indicated it was snowing in New York. “For how long?”
“At least three weeks. We want you to get inside his head. Get the scoop on his next project. Find out why he prefers living the life of a recluse. And it’d be ideal if we could put something in print around Valentine’s Day weekend, when sex is on a lot of people’s minds.”
Ainsley rolled her eyes. “I believe it’s romance that’s on everyone’s mind on that day.”
“Same thing.”
Deciding not to give her opinion on that, especially after her recent one-night stand, she said. “I need an address.”
“Does that mean you’re going to do it?” Bobby asked and she could hear the smile in his voice.
“Like you didn’t think I would. But I have a few stipulations,” she said, pulling the hotel notepad out of the drawer.
“You know I can’t promise you anything, St. James.”
She didn’t believe that for one minute. “I want my old job back, Bobby—including my office and weekly column.”
“You resigned, so sure that you were going to win that election, and we hired someone else.”
He was right. She had thought she would win. Deciding to use another approach, she said. “My replacement is doing a piss-poor job with that column and you and I both know it. I read the reviews.”
Bobby let out a deep sigh. “Giving you your old job back won’t be that easy. She’s the niece of someone at the top.”
Ainsley nervously gnawed on her bottom lip. In that case, it wouldn’t be easy but not impossible. “I’ll give you what you want from Chambers and you work on getting me what I want.”
Bobby didn’t say anything for a minute and then, “You deliver the goods on Chambers and I’ll see what I can do. And I need a newsbreaker, St. James. Chambers has been a recluse on that island. So far we’re the only ones who’ve gotten a lead as to where he lives so we need to move fast. It’s going to be up to you to convince the old man to do the interview.”
“Wait! Hold up! Are you saying Chambers hasn’t agreed to talk to me?”
“Not just you, he hasn’t agreed to talk to anyone. I understand he prefers the solitude with all those sea creatures. He doesn’t have a life. In fact, he doesn’t even know anyone has discovered his whereabouts. Chances are he won’t be too happy when you show up, but hopefully you can soften up the old man.”
She frowned. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
“No problem and if you get discouraged, just remember that this story makes you one step closer to reclaiming your old job, including your office and your column.” He quickly added, “But I 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
Ainsley 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
