The Never List

speak, I hurried on. “Let’s talk about that later. More important—Noah Philben. What do you know about him?”
    “Sarah, I—”
    “I know, Jim. I know what you’re going to say. Please. Noah Philben?”
    He sighed.
    “The pastor?” He paused, perhaps deciding whether to indulge me, but giving in at last. “I did a preliminary workup on him when Jack Derber married Sylvia. No record. Totally clean. Religious zealot who has been running that church since his early twenties. Sketchy operation, and I’ve got the tax guys monitoring it, but no other suspicious activity.”
    “Really? Well, here’s the thing, Jim. I went to this S&M club where—”
    “You did what?” He was incredulous.
    “Just hear me out. I’ll explain another time. I went to this club where Jack used to go, and I … for various reasons I was out back, getting some air …”
    “I can only imagine.”
    “And I saw a van and there seemed to be some sort of … transaction … going on, and it was Noah Philben.”
    “Sarah, there is nothing illegal about going to an S&M club, and I think if history proves anything, it’s that it’s not unprecedented for the leaders of small religious organizations to get mixed up in that sort of thing. It’s a trope of the genre, as Tracy might say.” He laughed at his own joke.
    “Tracy? Has she been talking to you about this?”
    “She called me yesterday. She thinks you are going a little too far. That you believe you can find Jennifer’s body.”
    “Don’t talk to her about me. Please. She is always going to hate me, and I don’t want her convincing you I’m crazy. I’m not crazy. Okay, well, I might be a little crazy, but not about this. I am approaching this in the most methodical way humanly possible.”
    “But of course you are, Sarah. As is your way. But you aren’t actually a detective, after all, remember? Listen, I know you think we failed you, but we interviewed every person even remotely connected with Jack Derber, and—”
    “Did you talk to Piker and Raven?”
    “Who?”
    “I don’t know their real names, but they go to this club. Did you even go to the club?”
    “What club?”
    “Exactly. You didn’t. It’s called The Vault. And I think I have a whole new angle on Jack Derber. I think it should be explored. Can you look into Noah Philben again?”
    There was silence on the line, and then finally, “I’ll see what I can do.” He sounded sincere.
    Since I was getting somewhere, I thought I’d push it even further.
    “Also, Sylvia is missing.”
    “Tracy mentioned that. But a full mailbox is hardly enoughevidence to file a missing person report. Sounds like she’s on vacation. Like you.”
    “If that’s the case, maybe I’d better wait it out here in Oregon until her return,” I countered.
    “Listen, Sarah, I’ll be frank. This search of yours doesn’t worry me any less than your reaction to the last letter. I don’t want you putting yourself in harm’s way, physically or mentally. Tracy said you’d gone to Oregon, but neither of us expected you to take it this far. What you’re doing is dangerous. Please come back, stay safe.”
    It sounded like sage advice. Except that it would mean giving up entirely.

CHAPTER 18
    I hung up from my call with Jim feeling dispirited. Maybe he was right. Sylvia was probably visiting her parents. Noah Philben was probably involved in a tax evasion scam and sex scandal all rolled into one, but that wasn’t going to help me find Jennifer’s body. Maybe I was wasting my time. Time I should be spending on that victim impact statement.
    I checked my plane ticket, thinking maybe I should just get out of here and leave the past behind once and for all. But my flight didn’t take off until the following evening. I shrugged and told myself I might as well keep going until then. But if something concrete didn’t materialize soon, I would be forced to admit defeat.
    Early the next morning, I drove back out to campus to find Adele. She had left a note that she was in the library. I found her at a large wooden table in the back stacks of the third floor. The ceilingswere high, and dust from the books penetrated the air. Libraries still made me nervous.
    Surrounded by piles of books and papers, Adele was typing furiously on her laptop. She didn’t look up until I was standing right beside her. I whispered her name, and she jumped slightly, slamming her computer shut.
    Some loose pieces of paper covered with scrawled