The End..?

We left Jim's house as fast as we could and once safely out of hearing distance I said what we were both thinking.
"So, Albert's fine. He's hiding in a cabin. It was mere coincidence we got a card and did all this investigation..."
"Not to mention the fact that it scared us half to death! What were we thinking? Ghost stories and communist communities! We live in Morgantown, for goodness sakes!"
Amy and I entered our apartment laughing at how silly we had been. Although Albert Lee had turned out to be just a lame old guy paranoid from his experiences in the 70s, we'd never forget him, or his mysteriousness.

We Learn the Truth...Sort of

"James Monroe, though I assume you already suspected that." said the man in the bathrobe.
"H-Hi," I managed to stammer. "I'm Jen and this is Amy, where did you get that card from?"
"I found it in my mailbox. Look, if you found me then I assume you've done some research, but if you want to know what really happened to Albert come inside. It's not safe out here."
Obviously James Monroe hadn't quite gotten over his days as a convicted terrorist. Though acquitted two years after he entered, the time Monroe spent in prison seemed to make him pretty paranoid.
"Do you get these cards often, Mr. Monroe?" I asked meekly.
"Please, call me Jim. I get one every year about this time. It's been a few years since that old loon messed up and dropped one somewhere else though." Jim noticed our blank stares and continued to explain himself.
"You see, Albert Lee didn't die, he didn't even disappear necessarily. He lives in a cabin about thirty miles away. After the fire..." Again, the blank stares caught him off guard. "You guys didn't find out about the fire! Well, maybe I overestimated your investigative skills. There was a fire at Albert's house. Some say it was foul play on the part of the community. They didn't like him, thought he was a communist you see. And on the account that those losers at the fire department took a good thirty minutes to get to his house only a few blocks away-well it starts rumors. But Albert was smart. He got out before the fire got bad. After that he knew that it was time to flee."
"But who started the fire? What do the cards have to do with anything?" Amy interjected.
"Whoa, slow down little lady. I'm still not sure who started the fire. But my guess is the government, trying to smoke out the reds any way they can, ya dig? As for the cards, good ol' Al sends me one every year letting me know he needs supplies. He must've dropped one on his way."

Coming Home

"Well," I said to Amy as we made our way back home,"At least we figured out who he was, even if we can't find him."
She just stared at me, still creeped out from our trip to the cemetery. We approached our apartment slowly and I noticed something strange in the parking lot. Amy's car was covered in small, white cards. They were coming from every direction, swirling around the parking lot and landing in her car, completely covering it. I picked one up and the all too familiar phrase was written on it.
"I don't understand!" I yelled. "We found out who he was, what happened to him, where he's buried. What more do we have to do!?"
As the last word came out of my mouth one single card came to a halt in my hand. Amy approached me cautiously as I turned over the card to read the inscription:

"You Found Me.
Thanks,
Albert Lee"

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The Cemetary Plot

All signs were pointing to the murder of Albert Lee, or at least the burning of his house. No wonder he "disappeared". Either the community killed him and covered it up, or his house burnt down and Albert saw no point in sticking around. The article sure made it seem more sinister than that though.
"Amy, we have to go to the cemetery." I said "I think Albert's there, I can feel it. He'll be under a different name of course..."
"Jen. Listen to yourself. Are you honestly saying we should go find some guys plot in the cemetery? And what if we find something? Does that mean we have a ghost!?"
I just looked at her and started out the door. Amy soon followed. We had come too far not to figure out who Albert Lee was and what happened to him. Last year we had lived right down the block from the cemetery closest to South Park. That's where we figured an angry mob might bury their victim.
As we approached the cemetery I could feel myself tensing up. We pushed open the gate and began scanning the stones for anyone with the name of Albert, or the correct date. After what seemed like hours I heard a cry from the end of the row I was currently looking at. I ran towards Amy as she sat on the ground staring forward and pointing.
"It-it-it's him." she said.
Sure enough, there he was. Albert L, January 28th, 1978. That was it, two lines on a moss covered stone.

At the Bolshevik's House

I told Amy to meet me at the corner of Walnut Street and Cobun, right down the block from James Monroe's old house. The area now is a mix of old one family houses and houses converted for college living, but we noticed something odd as we approached Monroe's house. It was one of those houses in South Park that you didn't really notice when you passed by. It was falling over and looked condemned, but yet lived in; however, that really isn't that strange in Morgantown. The weird part was the fact that this house sat farther back on its lot than the houses around it, it was almost hidden by the other houses. We cautiously approached the front door and as we did so the door swung open. There in front of us stood a man with graying hair in a plaid bathrobe.
"So, you got a card too?" he said as he held up a white business card with those all too familiar words.

James Monroe

It became clear through our research that Albert Lee may have stopped working at WVU because they thought he was a communist. In that era it was common for someone with liberal or anti-establishment views to be seen as a threat, or as "red" and it looked like ultra-liberal Philosophy professor Albert was a prime suspect. His philosophical human reaction tracking projects (i.e. the business card) didn't help his image either.
I went to the Morgantown Library on Spruce Street to do some research on other supposed red activity in Morgantown in the 70s and one name kept coming up, time and again: James Monroe. James Monroe was convicted in 1979 for terrorist activity, but before that, on January 27th, 1978 Monroe supposedly held a Bolshevik gathering at his home. In attendance at this gathering was none other than Albert Lee. The next day he was missing. Whatever really happened at Monroe's house would most likely lead us to the end of the Albert Lee mystery.
I wrote down the address of Monroe's last residence and packed up my bag. Turned out he didn't live far from the library, or from my apartment.

The Fire

Back in our apartment, Amy had made it clear she was done with the search for Albert Lee, but I had one more thing on my mind. What if Albert Lee hadn't completely disappeared, but had only changed his name or something? It seemed weird that someone could just leave and never be heard from again. More over, it seemed weird that his crazy neighbor still held such animosity towards him. I decided to conduct another search for Albert, but I left out the Lee. It was possible he just changed his name, wasn't it? I filtered the search results to include Morgantown and the correct dates, even his supposed Bolshevik connections until finally I found something. On January 28th, 1978 there was a fire in South Park. The details had been lost throughout the decades through, what the article referred to as "suspicious behavior", but the location and date of the fire was known. A house on 715 Par Street had been lost, but no casualties reported.
"715 Par Street?" I thought, "There is no Par Street in South Park."
"Amy!" I called out and Amy came walking into the room.
"What is it? Jen, are you still researching Albert? I thought we were going to give it a rest? It's a joke, or something I don't want any part in or something...."
"I know, but look at this!" I showed Amy the article and she gasped.
"Jen, could that possibly be Park Street? "
"I was thinking the same thing."