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right,” said Dad. “That’s where I’ve seen him.”
    “And both times he showed up the day before those guys died and tried to sell them coffins.”
    “He’s a vulture!” blubbered Aaron. “And he said he was looking for me!”
    I think Dad understood how scary it would be, especially for a little kid like Aaron, but he didn’t believe there was any connection. He tried to comfort Aaron by tickling him and finally offering him candy. None of it worked, so he picked Aaron up, set him on the couch with the Saturday comics, and went to clean the breakfast dishes.
    As soon as he left the room, Aaron whimpered, “I’m gonna die!”
    I had to agree. Aaron was going to die.
    I helped Dad in the kitchen, and then we went outside and started covering the bushes with drop cloths. Thinking about Mr. Peat’s visit distracted me so much that I kept fumbling with the corners and turning the cloths the wrong way. I could tell that Dad was trying hard not to yell at me.
    We found a wooden ladder in the side yard. All the rungs tilted, so we knew it must have belonged to the original owner. It made it a little tricky for Dad to stand on.
    “Hold the ladder steady!” Dad yelled from the top rung. He began to roll the first coat of gray-blue paint over the wall of the house. I could almost swear that Tilton House shivered with pleasure. I was surprised at how beautiful the color looked, and suddenly I really wanted to see what the house would look like when Dad was done.
    But I knew I couldn’t spend all morning helping Dad. There was no way to know how much time we had before the vultures claimed their victim. Somehow, I had to find a way to save Aaron. I was so preoccupied that it took me a moment to realize the ladder was tipping. I grabbed it tightly and barely managed to keep Dad from crashing to the ground. “Josh!” yelled Dad. “Please be more careful!”
    Please be more careful
. Hadn’t Victor Peat said the same thing at Mrs. Natalie’s front gate? I thought of what else he’d said that day: “I’m nothing without my list. You could say we live and die by the list.” A desperate, crazy idea formed in my head. I let go of the ladder and ran to the front door.
    “Josh! Where are you going?” Dad yelled after me. I didn’t answer. I found Aaron still curled up on the couch.
    “Let’s go see Lola,” I said.
    “Why?”
    “I think we can beat Victor Peat and his list. But we’ve got to ask Lola a question first.”
    A minute later, Aaron and I were knocking on Lola’s front door for the first time ever. She looked surprised to see us.
    “What do you want?”
    “Can we talk to you?”
    She stepped back wordlessly and we walked in. I knew our house seemed weird to her—even though she’d never been inside it. But her house—with its complete lack of dust and clutter—seemed weird to me. Someone had polished the bare—level—wood floors in the entryway to a high shine. By contrast, our entryway was always a tilting jumble of shoes, Frisbees, and skateboards. The furniture in Lola’s house, what little there was, looked brand new and uncomfortable. I stood up straighter and wanted to tuck in my T-shirt.
    “We can go up to my room,” she said. We followed her upstairs. The door to her room had a brass plaque on it that read DOLORES’S ROOM .
    “Who’s Dolores?” I asked.
    “I am.”
    “I thought your name was Lola.”
    “Dolores is my full name. Only my mom calls me that, so don’t even think about it.”
    “We wanted to ask you about your stepdad.”
    She opened the door. Her room didn’t look like it was part of the same house. The floor was buried in stuffed animals, CD cases, books, soccer trophies, stacks of drawings, and polished rocks. Aaron picked up a very round, black rock and turned it slowly in his hand.
    “My stepdad’s dead,” said Lola.
    “I know. I’m sorry. But Mr. Peat just came to our house this morning and he was looking for Aaron.” I explained to Lola about the