The first thing I noticed was the silence.
Lawson Customs was never completely quiet in the morning. Even before the first customer arrived, there was usually the soft hum of fluorescent lights, the refrigerator in the office, and the familiar buzz of the air compressor coming to life as I unlocked the workshop.
That morning there was nothing. I climbed the stairs from my apartment carrying a travel mug of coffee, unlocked the side door, and reached for the light switch beside the entrance.
Nothing happened and I frowned and pressed it again. Still nothing.
"That's strange." I said.
I walked farther into the workshop, set my coffee on the nearest workbench, and tried another switch. The garage remained dark and a knot formed in my stomach.
The roller door still operated manually, so
