The Haunting of Leigh Maxwell By Esther Luttrell ONE The wind was starting to kick up, he noticed. Even though the old car provided a cocoon, protecting him from the elements, he was aware of the dip in temperature. It was colder than usual for so early in October. Trees surrounding the big plant where he worked were bending in the breeze, disappearing from sight when shreds of fog shifted across the woods. He hunched down further in the seat, pulling his wool jacket tighter around him. “She’s going to be late,” he said aloud to ...continued...