Unseen Epilogue

                                             Unseen Epilogue 

           The final pages of the story of the librarian known as Mary McFee closed far more strangely than any of her colleages in the Rehobeth Beach Public Library ever would have imagined.

         Mary had come to the library six months ago after moving to the Delmarva Peninsula from Akron, Ohio.  She had fit neatly into the typical librarian stereotype–single, quiet and unassuming–even living alone in her beachside condo with only her gentle tabby cat as a roommate.

       Yet, the other library employees who lived near her noticed that, every day since joining their staff, she would not leave her unit after work until well after dark.  Mary also seemed to have an unusual curiosity about the construction site of John Jordan’s insurance office in the newly-rehabilitated Rehobeth Beach Coastal Mall.  The new librarian became far more interested in finding out about the construction of the insurance office than about the proposed business itself.  Often, instead of calling, e-mailing or texting John at his temporary office in downtown Rehobeth with inquiries about insurance or real estate, she seemed more concerned about exploring the vacant lot proposed for the office. Often observing construction during her lunch hour, she often returned after work on the site had stopped for the day .

        Mary’s nightly visits to the construction site grew much more frequent as the May 1 groundbreaking for the new insurance establisment drew closer.

        Then, on the fateful morning, as John Jordan turned over the first shovelful of soil at the groundbreaking ceremony, he struck an unusually hard object. Although it seemed like a rock, when John reached down to retrieve it, it felt like hardened cardboard. 

      He had found some type of book, like a journal or diary. Badly-smeared  ink scrawls revealed the entries on pages stuck together by what looked like dried blood.     

   Jordan knew about the tales of an unsolved murder in the area, but still had outbid a number of others for this prime real estate. A little negative publicity would not stand in the way of his dream.

     The body of Joseph Callihan, a successful financial planner at the firm previously located next to John’s office site, had been found 51 years ago near Harley’s Market in an adjacent area of Sussex County. Looked like the murderer had beaten Joseph’s skull almost beyond recognition before striking the final fatal blow with a shovel police had found nearby. 

       Many Rehobeth Beach residents believed the clues to the murderer’s disappearance and Joseph’s death lay buried near the site of his former office. However, the mall’s new owners said they had thoroughly cleared the area before reopening of the newly-refurbished mall. 

      “The time has come to put baseless speculation behind us,” John said, “this site has an excellent view of the Atlantic Ocean and excavations already exist for utilities. We stand here today ready to write a new, positive chapter in this area.”

    He then examined his discovery more closely:

     “Seems like an investment account book that Joseph also used as a diary. The client, Marjorie Smotbiden, apparently had invested much of the meager earnings as a local librarian that she had stashed away for her retirement in stocks Callihan had told her were “red hot.”  The “red hot” investments, however, soon turned ice cold. Looks like Marjorie also mixed business with pleasure. Joseph writes about a love affair with the librarian that went South the same time she went bankrupt. She apparently blamed her boyfriend for her bad luck and decided to delete both the red ink in her ledgers and the blot on her personal life.”

      Another clue—the remains of airplane ticket stubs for a one-way flight to Colorado tucked into one of the back inside covers of the diary.

     Some more light shed on the story by Frank Thompson, retired editor of The Rehobeth Beachcomer, a local newspaper that had existed from the 1940s to the 1970s, who stood nearby during the ceremony:

     “Stories we ran at that time said Joseph’s wife found out about the affair and told him to end it. Shortly after they dug up the financial planner’s body Marjorie also disappeared. Noone ever found her, but they found her SUV ditched near Harley’s Market. Mrs. Callihan died about five years ago.”

     Jordan didn’t realize, however, that “Marjorie,” who had changed her identity to Mary McFee, had kept up with the news of her “old neighborhood” on Google every day from the backwoods cabin 20 miles outside of Denver where she had hidden from the authorities for more than a half century before moving the Akron.  She had read the notice of the groundbreaking in the Delmarva newspapers, to which she still subscribed, and returned to “the scene of her crime” in a carefully-crafted disguise. 

     The murderer stood in the back row during the ceremony waiting for her chance to completely destroy the evidence and keep her secret hidden. She knew that she could put an end to the life of anybody who got in her way—just as she had put an end to Joseph Callihan 51 years ago.

     Mary shouted from the middle of the crowd,

     “Don’t make another move Jordan. I didn’t hide in Colorado and Ohio for a half century just to wind up in the Delaware pen. Bury your so-called evidence again and find another site for your office.”

       However, another onlooker also watched the beachfront ceremony from the back row.

       Before the librarian squeezed the trigger on the .357 magnum she had hidden in her spring jacket, Sheriff Jason Morehead shot the weapon from her hand and screamed, “Drop your gun now. Marjorie or Mary or whoever you are.  You now have given me the final piece of evidence I need with your public confession to the murder of Joseph Callihan.”

     Morehead cuffed Mary and took her into Rehobeth Beach City Jail. Six months later, Mary McFee was found guilty of the murder of Joseph Callihan and the people of Rehobeth closed the book on the tale of the investor’s revenge.