The Death Catchers by Jennifer Anne Kogler

his license when he turned sixteen a few weeks before. Since then, I’d seen his shiny black pickup all over town. I stopped jogging as Drake rolled down his window.
    â€œHey,” he said, looking concerned. “Everything okay?”
    â€œI’m fine,” I said.
    â€œWhat about your grandmother? Did everything go all right?”
    I felt my cheeks redden. Of course he meant my grandmother . “Bizzy’s out of surgery and doing well,” I explained.
    â€œGood to hear,” Drake said. His concern was off-putting. Even in the cloudy morning, his eyes gleamed. I tried not to look at them.
    â€œDo you volunteer every morning at the hospital?” I asked, looking down at the door of his truck. I wasn’t any good at chitchat.
    â€œSomeone needed to switch with me today. I’m normally there at night, three times a week.”
    â€œOh.” I wondered how he managed to squeeze volunteering shifts into his schedule. Between captaining the water polo team and working his way into the heart of every girl at Crabapple High School, Drake Westfall was a very busy guy.
    â€œDo you want a ride to school?” Drake leaned over and used his long, muscular arm to unlock the passenger door.
    â€œIt’s illegal for you to give anyone under twenty a ride during your first twelve months with a license.” I sounded like such a goody-goody referencing the California Vehicle Code, I had the urge to cover my own mouth so I couldn’t say anything else. I was glad Jodi wasn’t around to give me a hard time.
    â€œI won’t tell if you won’t,” Drake teased, smiling.
    â€œI’m not going to school.” I instantly realized how odd it must’ve sounded to Drake considering I was headed in the direction of school.
    â€œWell, I can drop you off wherever you’re going,” Drake offered.
    â€œThanks, but it’s really okay. You’re going to be late,” I urged.
    â€œDitching school while following the letter of the law … you’re not an easy person to figure out, Lizzy.”
    I had to get out of there before I said another boneheaded thing.
    â€œYeah, I guess. Later.” Without waiting for his response, I cut through the path next to the Ramblings’ yard, trying to banish any memory of how idiotic I’d sounded.
    When I spotted the row of white fir trees along the border of the cemetery’s iron fence, I quickened my pace. I wasn’t sure what to expect, only that I had to figure out exactly who Agatha and her sister were and what they had to do with Bizzy and me.
    Crabapple Cemetery was not a popular place on Halloween. There was no one there. I trudged up the grassy hill, trying to take the straightest path I could between the large tombstones clustered near the top of the hill.
    For a moment outside the doorway of Agatha’s cottage, I hesitated, gathering the courage to knock.
    I heard something. The voice behind the wood door was an eerily familiar one: the harsh tone of Vivienne le Mort. My first instinct was to run, but the thought of missing an information-gathering opportunity kept me on the porch. If Vivienne wanted to hurt me, she could’ve done so on my last visit to the cemetery.
    Trembling, I snuck around to the side window and glanced in. Agatha stood in the middle of the room facing the window, dressed in her white linen shirt and trousers. Vivienne le Mort, in her floor-length black robe, had her back to me. The two women were close enough to touch one another. Vivienne towered over her sister.
    I bent down, staying low to the ground. This time, I wasn’t taking a chance on being discovered. I could no longer see inside, but I overheard every word.
    â€œThe Sanchez girl’s thread was cut. She was supposed to die. And yet, she lives.”
    â€œPerhaps you made a mistake, Vivienne.” Agatha’s voice floated out through the open window. I wiggled my toes, making sure I