A for Effort

Aylin looked around the office, searching for any hint of a clue which he wouldn't be able to find from behind a screen as he usually would.

"Aylin," Lucca said anxiously, "I don't think we should be in my Dad's office."

"We need to investigate everyone if we're going to solve this case, Lucca," Aylin looked up, smoky grey eyes showing a little annoyance, which quickly faded as he shook his head to himself. "Sorry if I sound snappy, I just want to get this case over with." Lucca nodded,

"Yeah, I—Yeah, I suppose you have a point," he looked at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sorry." 

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Aylin assured with a small smile, "Do you want to help me? I understand if you don't want to."

"Don't worry. I do. If Dad's going to hide something, it would be in a place both visible and invisible." He bent down at the desk drawer, opening the small drawer and finding everything in perfect array. Aylin frowned at it, and Lucca already knew it was suspiciously perfect. 

Only that wasn't it. Aylin pulled out a particular ballpoint pen, examining it, "This one is five millimeters off." He spoke in a monotone voice, which honestly creeped Lucca out, as though his friend was discussing the weather and not what could potentially be evidence for Lucca's father being a murderer. "Lucca, can you take out your phone and shine it on the far edge of the drawer."

"Mm-hm." Lucca turned on the flashlight application and shined it in the drawer, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. But then an idea popped into his mind, and he crawled under the desk with the drawer still open, seeing the tiniest of holes in the wall, where the desk would have been covering. It was so hard to reach, but it was technically accessible. "Hey..." he asked nervously, "Can you give me the pen?" Aylin crawled under as well and handed him the pen, which Lucca unscrewed the cap off of and took the ink cartridge, inserting it into the hole where it fit perfectly.

Both made tiny noises of surprise when a creaking sound was heard, and they both turned to see the bookcase was opening like a door, revealing an elevator. Aylin's eyes lit up while dread pooled in Lucca's stomach to the point he was unsure he could let everything he had believed for years be turned on its head any more than it already had.

He shook himself. This was for the greater good... for justice... that was why Aylin, the greatest detective alive, had taken the case, right? If Lucca didn't help, Aylin would still solve the case, it made no difference, so he might as well see things to the end.

"Come on," he took Aylin's hand, feeling almost a sensation of electricity everywhere their skin touched. "Let's go see what's inside."

Every movement felt like it was a mile when, in reality, it was maybe ten steps from one end of the office to the other. Lucca could see and hear everything in high definition—the creaking of the floorboards under his feet, his own heavy breathing, the burning of his eyes as tears threatened to spill over, and the erratic beating of his anxious heart. 

Maybe it would be fine, and this was where his father kept classified information for his cases. Perhaps it was a sex dungeon—not a pleasant thought particularly. Still, it was certainly better than the fact his father, the Chief of Police in this town, had been responsible for all the "accidental" deaths during the last twenty years.

Aylin pressed the button, and it took a moment for the elevator to come up, which only served to supercharge Lucca's nerves with anxiety that his father was going to be in the elevator when it finally opened.

He wasn't, at least, and the elevator gave a soft little 'ding' sound as it opened. Aylin giggled a little at the noise,

"It makes such a pleasant sound."

"What did you think it would do? Make a demented death-based sound?"

Aylin shrugged, "No, but I won't deny that would be interesting. Can elevators even do that?" As they stepped inside, Lucca could already tell this conversation about the sound the elevator made was Aylin's attempt at humor to calm his nerves. He decided to play along to distract himself from his hands, which were trembling to the point he was pretty sure he could successfully shake paint cans.

"I think Matt might be able to make it do that with a little wiring." He looked at the two buttons on the elevator, "Which do we press?"

"I would assume the lower of the two," Aylin answered, biting his thumb, "Unless the second floor of your house has a secret office. You choose which one we push."

Lucca sucked in a deep breath, before deciding to go with his gut and select the lower button. The doors closed, and they started going downward. About two seconds in, Aylin jumped, hovering a tiny bit in midair and then giving Lucca a lopsided playful grin, earning a chuckle from the apprehensive young man in response. But how out of character Aylin's childlike behavior was made the gravity of the situation all the more real.

After a moment, Aylin realized his attempts to distract Lucca wouldn't work for long, and his expression became somber as he gently held Lucca's hand, "Hey... whatever we find down there... it's going to be okay."

"How can you say that? It's not like your Dad's a potential criminal."

"To be fair, I suspect 73% of adults in this town, so don't think your father is the prime suspect or anything."

"See, that's worse," Lucca rolled his eyes, "You see how that's worse, right? Your whole career revolved around the fact you've never been wrong before, and now there's probably a cult down there." Aylin shrugged,

"True. I kind of suck at this. I mean, teenage superdetectives are better at arresting people, not comforting those left behind."

"This is true." They both jolted when the elevator opened, and they looked to each other, nodding, before walking inside...