CHAPTER TWELVE
When I’d returned from my walk and had a brief chat with Daisy and Marty, my phone pinged with a text message from Andi. She had finished work and would meet me at my motel room at 12.30 pm. I looked at my watch. Just enough time to drive past Melanie Cutler’s house.
Across town in another affluent area, the house sat on a small hillside overlooking the township and the Cold Mountain River, which twisted its way through the landscape like a black snake. I imagined it to be very picturesque in the summer months as even on this cool, drab, Autumn day the view was impressive.
The small hamlet was a cluster of buildings and houses. The town park, complete with a red-roofed rotunda, was on the river-side. Lawn and gardens stretching down to the water’s edge, looked brown and c
