I drove to the low brick strip mall on the north side of town.

The air outside smelled of diesel exhaust and wet pavement.

The lot was mostly empty except for a few cars parked by the dry cleaner next door.

I walked through the glass door of the law office at exactly ten o’clock.

The little waiting room was empty.

A muted TV in the corner was playing a morning news show.

A pile of old magazines sat perfectly lined up on a glass coffee table.

Mark opened his inner door and waved me back.