Let Me In - Adam Nicholls (e book reader pdf .TXT) 📗

The vacation was supposed to be a chance to relax, unwind, and hit the reset button. The whole purpose was to return with a new lease on life, as if the dark crimes of Washington had never tainted his soul, but Morgan had not made it to the airport’s exit doors before trouble came for him once more. It was as if he’d never left.

He was yet to know what the problem was exactly, but as he hauled a large suitcase out of the arrivals section and found Detective Gary Lee waiting for him, he knew something was amiss. Even Rachel, Morgan’s wife, who’d enjoyed the Maldives vacation just as much, gasped with surprise. A visit from Gary was never a good thing if he wasn’t smiling.

He wasn’t.

Morgan steeled himself for bad news. As a private investigator, work could come calling at any time. He just hadn’t expected it to be waiting for him the moment he hit US soil. Hell, he didn’t even have an office at the moment anyway; when the work had slowed down, he’d decided to close up shop and set it up at home instead, but over time the spare room had become a dusty old box room, and neither he nor Rachel had mentioned it since. Morgan suspected this was due to his own embarrassment. Another reason he loved his wife.

As prepared as he could be, he dragged the suitcase toward Gary, keeping Rachel close to his side. The solemn look on Gary’s tired face told him all he needed to know. “Let me guess, the Homicide Department has hit a snag, and they need a PI who has nothing better to do.”

Gary shook his head, his expression unchanged. “You wish.”

The tone in his voice struck a nerve. Morgan recoiled, all hopes of a pleasant exchange diving out the window in a matter of seconds. Even Rachel stepped back, pulled her own rucksack farther up her shoulder, and announced she’d go find the car. Morgan nodded and took note, but his eyes were fixed on Gary’s.

When they were left alone, Gary raised a hand and clamped it on Morgan’s shoulder. His chest heaved up and down, as if to exhale a heavy burden. This definitely wasn’t going to be good news. “Let’s get some air.”

The idea was music to Morgan’s ears, and although he dreaded the coming news, he couldn’t wait to get outside and suck up some of that thick Washington smog. While they marched in silence toward the exit, he wondered what could possibly be wrong. Was there another murder spree? Had the DC Carver broken out of prison to take his revenge on Morgan, the man who’d put him away in the first place? Anything was possible, making this short walk to the outside a long, tedious journey. It didn’t help that the suitcase weighed a ton.

Eventually the time did come. They passed through the automatic doors and took a left, pulling to one side where two smokers stood around an ashtray and talked too loud about their recent trip. Morgan passed by them and stopped the suitcase, leaning on the raised handle while he addressed the situation head-on. “What’s this about?”

With the same frown he’d worn inside, Gary raked a hand through his hair and made eye contact. He pursed his thin lips, cleared his throat, and finally spoke. “There’s no easy way to say this, so here goes: your cousin died while you were away.”

The news hit him like a brick. Morgan only had one cousin—Dylan “Dusty” Young, a nice guy who attracted bad news. Having spent the first ten or twelve years of their lives inseparable, there was a bond that should never have been broken. It wasn’t until Dusty’s mother—Morgan’s least favorite aunt—announced they were moving away that they had to say goodbye. Since then, they’d only been able to keep in touch over the phone, and although they’d both tried their best to maintain that friendship, it’d withered away over the many years. People changed and friends drifted. They both understood this, and it had never turned sour.

But now their time had come to an end, and Morgan felt the clean spirit of his vacation being sucked away like water down a drain. It was like he’d never left. “What happened?”

“That’s the worst part. He was murdered.”

There was stab number two. Morgan didn’t realize he was falling back until his spine hit the brick wall behind him. Had it not been there, he was sure to have hit the ground. “Murdered? Who the hell would want to hurt Dusty Young?”

Gary kept to himself, not rushing forward or crowding his best friend. Morgan recognized that effort and appreciated it, but it didn’t do much for his mood. “Don’t worry about that. I’m working on the case right now, just like you did for me not so long ago. All you need to do is attend the funeral. Provided you want to?”

“Sure I do,” Morgan said eagerly, but as he parted with the words, he saw glimpses of his distant family. He pictured them all gathered in a large, dull room, the conversation dying the moment he stepped inside. All eyes were on him, and the sweat soaked his collar. How was he supposed to stay in a room with them after all these years? They were distant family for a reason, but Morgan knew it wasn’t about him, them, or their relationship; it was about his cousin and old friend Dusty Young, who’d been killed for reasons Morgan had yet to learn.

“You okay?” Gary asked.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “You going to tell me what happened?”

“How about you get settled, and I’ll explain at the funeral tomorrow?”

Morgan nodded, staring vacantly at the ground. “But how do you know about this?”

“Homicide.” Gary opened his suit jacket and flashed his badge. “That, and your Aunt Gladys called me personally.”

“I’ll bet that was fun.” Morgan’s Aunt Gladys was a piece of work. After many years of no communication, she’d spent her lonely hours filling her son’s head—Dusty’s head—with lies about why they had to leave DC. She’d blamed the neighborhood and Morgan’s bad influence, rather than confessing to her inability to hold down a relationship, much less a job. Morgan had refused to react, deciding to keep to himself and avoid the toxicity of an altercation. He’d been happier this way. Until now. “What did she say?”

“Just that she wanted me to invite you to the ceremony.”

“She didn’t want to talk with me personally?”

“Does that surprise you?”

Morgan smiled, but he didn’t know how genuine it was. “Not much.” He sighed. “All right. Thanks for coming down here to tell me. I’d better find Rachel and head home. Maybe I’ll make a stop along the way to pick up a black tie.”

“Good idea. Keep your chin up, pal. And stay out of this one.”

They exchanged a weak, brief hug and parted ways. Morgan dragged the suitcase around the exterior of the building toward the parking lot with a gray cloud following above him. All he could think about was Dusty’s young, playful smile, and Gary’s words repeated in his mind like a broken record: “Stay out of this one.”

But how was he supposed to?

His cousin had just been murdered, and Morgan couldn’t just let that slide.