Let Me In by Adam Nicholls (books under 200 pages .TXT) 📕

“You should answer it.”

Morgan’s ears popped like a balloon at the sound of her voice. It was a soft, gentle voice, but when it broke his exhausted stare from the passing city of Washington outside the car window, it made him start. He craned his neck toward her, examining her pale cheeks as the passing lights brightened them. She was still as beautiful as the day they’d met. Now, at the mutual age of thirty-four, he felt as though he was aging far worse than she was.

“Honey?” she prompted, gesturing to the cradle by the vents where his phone sat.

It wasn’t until then that he noticed it: his cell phone lit up like Times Square, his best friend’s name plastered across the long screen. It was always great to hear from Gary, but after putting so much effort into finding the perfect restaurant for his wife’s birthday dinner, he didn’t want to tear away from the perfect evening for whatever morbid crime Gary had stumbled upon. Besides, Gary worked for Washington’s homicide department, whereas Morgan was a breed of his own—a private investigator. It sounded sophisticated, but the bottom line was that he was a cop who chose his own hours, and eight o’clock on his wife’s birthday was hardly the time to be working.

“Let it go to voicemail,” he said, returning his gaze to the outside world, where the black sky was lit up by illuminated signs and the orange glow of streetlights. “Have you enjoyed your birthday? Was the meal okay? I know you like the restaurant, so I thought—”

“It’s been the best. But don’t let me keep you from your friend.”

“You think I want to work tonight?”

Rachel giggled. “When do you not want to work?”

“I guess you got a point.”

There was rarely any point in trying to hide his work obsession from her. Hell, she was just as bad; there was no limit to her efforts over at HUCINS, a children’s charity founded by herself and two others who were no longer in the picture for their own reasons (it stood for: Help for Underprivileged Children in Need of Saving). The difference was that Morgan was paid reasonably well for his work, while Rachel considered the knowledge she’d changed a kid’s life payment enough, taking only a small paycheck as CEO. To take more would feel like she was taking advantage, she’d said, and Morgan had always admired her altruism—it was one of the many reasons he loved her, and he often believed his understanding of that was one of the reasons she loved him back. It was, as he always put it, a match made in Heaven.

The phone went dark only for a moment before it lit up again. Gary’s name stretched across the screen once more, causing Morgan’s heartbeat to speed up. Gary wasn’t exactly the kind of person to call a second time unless it was important, and in their line of work, “important” meant some kind of tragedy had taken place. Morgan knew, however, that picking up that phone would be the start of a new job, which in turn would mean the end of Rachel’s birthday. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that to her.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Rachel said. “Please get the damn phone.”

Morgan felt a smile tug at his lips. “Why, do you want to get rid of me?”

“Always,” she teased.

“You won’t feel bad?”

“Why should I?”

Morgan shrugged, his eyes still on the phone. “Because it’s the one night of the year you’re absolutely guaranteed to have my undivided attention.”

“Just one? Is that all?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

Rachel sighed, leaned forward, and pushed the green icon.

Before Morgan could protest, Gary’s firm voice echoed through the speaker. But there was something different about it tonight; his confidence had vanished, the authority drained, leaving only a worried quiver in his pronunciations. “Are you there? Morgan?”

“I’m here,” Morgan said, staring at Rachel. She was focused on the road with a thin smile edging onto the corner of her mouth. He would get his revenge for that sneaky move, and it was quite likely to come in the form of a savage tickle.

“Thank God. I could really use your help.”

Morgan’s heart continued to race as he silently prayed there wouldn’t be work tonight. He’d really been looking forward to settling down with the woman of his dreams, curling up on the couch and watching a trashy romance movie before heading to bed. He needed that, sure, but Rachel had been working so hard lately, and he desperately wanted to reward her with that much. “Let me guess. Homicide?”

“And then some. Where are you?”

“Nearly home. Why?”

“Because I’m on your doorstep.”

The call ended there, leaving them in silence as Rachel turned the wheel onto their street. As promised, Gary’s car was at the end of their driveway, and his athletic silhouette lurched in front of the light on the front porch. As they pulled over and Rachel killed the engine, Morgan and Rachel paused, staying in the dark for a moment longer.

“I’m sorry,” Morgan said, loosening his tie and unhooking his top button. There was no way he would forgive himself for how tonight would end, and although he knew she’d understand—even encourage him—he couldn’t help but feel awful.

“Listen, I’ve had the best birthday in years. I’m going to head inside and draw a bath, throw on some Aretha Franklin, and relax. If you’re home in time you can join me, and if I’m still awake we can celebrate properly, but until then you have a very important job to do.” Rachel leaned over, offering a sweet sample of the same perfume she’d worn for years. It was as enticing now as it had been when they’d met all those years ago. “Now go.”

Morgan kissed her hard on the lips, swiftly tucking stray strands of hair over her ear. He watched her eyes—kind, loving eyes that glowed in the moonlight—and then reached for the door handle at the same time as Rachel reached for hers.

That was the end of her birthday, and they both knew it.

The moment he shut the door, he traipsed around the car and leaned against the driver’s side, watching her bound up the porch steps. From afar, he heard Rachel mumble and laugh, accepting a birthday kiss on the cheek from Gary before disappearing inside.

Gary took his chance to approach. His solemn expression spoke volumes.

“Good night?” he asked.

“It was.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder. He could barely get mad at this best friend and work acquaintance, much less stay mad. They’d known each other far too long for something like work to stand between them. All those sweltering Washington summers they’d spent together as kids—all the teenage dramas and fights over girls—were simply trials for their unbreakable bond. Even now, as grown men who had the poor fortune of seeing the sicker side of human nature for a living, they were yet to find their true test of friendship. “I’m guessing there’s a good reason you’re showing up like this?”

Gary stood up straight, exhaling in a long, slow breeze as he looked up and down the street. It was a rarity to see him like this; the renowned detective often maintained a cool exterior that everyone on the force envied. But something was different tonight. He shivered in spite of how