5
Matthew showed up at the appointed hour, dressed in a black tuxedo with all the trimmings.
“You’re probably too young to understand the reference,” Winnie told him, “but my boy, you are Mystery Date.”
“Thank you,” Matthew said. “I think.”
He looked over Winnie’s outfit and smiled as he gave her a nod. “Perfectly you.” He crooked his elbow and held out his arm for her to take. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Let’s,” Winnie agreed.
One whiff of the nighttime cold, and she briefly retreated to the house to pluck off the back of the couch a soft white throw she sometimes curled under to read a book. It was probably covered in yellow dog hair, but no one would see it in the dark, and Winnie didn’t care in any case.
The Kladers’ house was about forty-five minutes away, in the foothills of
