The Professor - Ch. 41.2

Baron was headed back upstairs with his latest purchase when he overheard the hotel manager refer to a man by the last name of Jean-Baptiste. His ears immediately perked up.

Could this particular Jean-Baptiste be Trent’s great-uncle? Had Oliver finally come back to the islands?

Pausing by the elevator, Baron casually glanced in the direction of the gray-haired man in question. Sure enough the stranger had distinct amber eyes just like Trent. Yet instead of being tall and burly like Aurelia described him, he was tall and gaunt-looking.

Despite the man’s clear battle with some unknown illness, rage instantly attacked Baron’s soul. All he could think about was what Oliver had done to Aurelia. What he had probably done to Marshall. What he had robbed Trent of on so many levels.

As if he felt the heat of Baron’s displeasure upon him, Oliver suddenly turned towards him. Their eyes met and held like cowboys poised for a showdown in an old western.

It was at that moment that Baron decided to wage war on the older man. Not openly. No, subtly and on a level that only a man like Oliver would ever feel any real pain - financially.

I’m going to get your rightful inheritance, Trent, Baron vowed concerning his stepson as the elevator dinged its availability behind him.

* * *

“Who is that young man? He looks very familiar,” Oliver asked the hotel manager when the Latino stranger entered the elevator after that potent stare down.

“That’s Dr. Baron Weaver, sir. He recently married one of our own beautiful island birds,” the manager replied, looking proud of the fact that he could remember every wealthy individual he encountered, islander or not.

“I see,” Oliver replied through a tight mouth, finally recalling where he’d seen Baron’s face before and where he’d heard that name from. He’d heard that name from the P.I.’s mouth and seen that face from the pictures the P.I. had taken of Baron and Aurelia together.

I wonder why an insider like him didn’t stay at the hotel with the casino, Oliver mused, having done his own research into Baron’s past. He hadn’t needed a private investigator for that task. Just a few well-placed friends in high and extremely low places.

Unwilling to dwell on how another man made his money, Oliver quickly switched the subject back to the topic they had been discussing previously. A topic that involved the hotel putting up a few stateside dignitaries, who might help salvage his faltering island business holdings.

After this, Oliver was going to his St. John estate to rest up. He had another round of chemo in the morning.

© 2009 by Mi’Chelle Dodson/Suprina Frazier