The Never List

sirens turning, awaited our arrival, and paramedics rushed toward us as we entered the building.
    Moments later I sat on some officer’s desk, wrapped in a blanket, while he stood off to the side a few feet away, mostly gaping. Someone handed me a cup of coffee, and I took a sip. Christine and Tracy were sitting in wheeled office chairs on either side of me, Christine twisting hers slightly back and forth in a nervous rhythm.
    The scene brought me back to a similar one ten years before.Except now all around me were girls in floor-length robes, some being interviewed by police officers, some drinking their coffee and staring straight ahead, all trying to make sense of this new development. I knew how confused they must feel. To me, though, it was a sort of homecoming.
    “Someday, someone is going to need to explain to me what just happened. But right now I’m perfectly content to be sitting on this desk in this funny little precinct, drinking this tar-paper coffee,” I said, almost feeling genuinely happy at that moment. Instead of retraumatized, I felt invigorated. This situation felt more like the normal condition of the world. This I could cope with. This was easier than waiting for what might happen.
    “Well, it’s very simple, really,” said Christine. “When Tracy called yesterday morning to tell me about the list—”
    “The list?” I said, my mind wiped clean from shock.
    “Yes, you know, Jim’s list of girls who went missing during Jack Derber’s academic conferences.” I nodded, and she continued. “When she told me that, something in me snapped, and I knew, somehow, I had to help keep him from getting out. After all, as you pointed out, I do have daughters.
    “But it was more than that. Ever since I saw you, I’ve been thinking about your search. All these years I’ve tried to forget our past. I was afraid if I went anywhere near that edge, I’d fall off the cliff. But if those other girls are out there … I had to.”
    She took a deep breath.
    “So I told my husband that my cousin was sick, and I had to fly that day. He took the girls up to his parents’ in Connecticut, because, you know, he has a ‘crazy’ week next week.” We all smiled at that. “Anyway, I booked the next flight and called Jim from the airport. He told me where you were staying.”
    Tracy nodded. “That was the flight you needed to catch.”
    “How did Jim …?” I started, but she shrugged before I couldfinish the question. He had clearly been watching out for us more than he was letting on.
    “I pulled into the hotel parking lot late last night,” Christine continued, “and then sat in my rental car for what felt like an hour, debating whether I could really do this.
    “When I finally persuaded myself to open the car door, I saw you two pass behind me, gunning it out of the lot. I followed you, trying to catch up with you enough to get your attention. You were both pretty oblivious, and now I understand why, given where you were going.
    “I lost you for a bit and backtracked until I found your car parked beside the road. Tracy had told me about the warehouse, so at that point, I put two and two together. I pulled into the driveway closest to your car—no way was I getting out to walk it—and as I reached the top of the hill, I saw taillights up ahead.
    “I was scared, so I turned off my lights and the engine, wondering what to do next. A minute later I watched as those men threw you into the back of their van. I panicked and immediately called Jim. He told me to go back to the hotel, that he’d handle it. But how could he find one van on these back roads in the middle of nowhere? And I had this horrible notion that they were taking you somewhere to kill you.
    “Jim grumbled but stayed on the line with me as I followed from a distance. He said he could track me by my cell phone, but it would take a little time to set it up through the phone company. But there was no time.
    “Then I remembered the tracking app on my iPhone—the one I use with my sitter.”
    She noticed my puzzled expression.
    “With this particular app,” she explained, “you can share your GPS location with others in real time. Jim used it to track me as I followed the van.”
    I nodded my head appreciatively. Naturally, Christine had the latest, most advanced technology.
    “So why were you the one who got us out of that van, then?” asked Tracy.
    “Once we got to the farm, the men went into the house. They’d hidden the