True Evil
“He knew it as surely as that time off Bimini when the big swordfish had hit his bait and run like a jet ski tearing across the waves. He had Carson G. Barnett himself sitting opposite his desk, a larger-than-life man of forty-six, a millionaire so many times over that he'd quit counting. A legend in the oil business, Barnett had made and lost three fortunes, but right now he was in an up cycle—way up.
For the past hour, Barnett had been describing his marital situation. Rusk was wearing his... most concerned look and nodding at the appropriate places, but he wasn't really listening. He hadn't had to listen for quite a few years now. Because the stories were all the same: variations on a theme—a very tired one. The only time Rusk pricked up his ears was when Barnett slid into the business side of things. Then the lawyer made sure he recorded every syllable. But right now was the worst part…a melodramatic soliloquy on how misunderstood Barnett was.
Rusk knew where the oilman was going long before he got there.MoreLess
For the past hour, Barnett had been describing his marital situation. Rusk was wearing his... most concerned look and nodding at the appropriate places, but he wasn't really listening. He hadn't had to listen for quite a few years now. Because the stories were all the same: variations on a theme—a very tired one. The only time Rusk pricked up his ears was when Barnett slid into the business side of things. Then the lawyer made sure he recorded every syllable. But right now was the worst part…a melodramatic soliloquy on how misunderstood Barnett was.
Rusk knew where the oilman was going long before he got there.MoreLess
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