“So he’s pissed off at the Amish,” Tomasetti says after a moment. “He sees other young people getting away with all the things he couldn’t. His life is ruined. He’s had to join another church. Maybe he sees this as a way to get back at them. Hurt the Amish as a whole.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Murder seems extreme.”

“Rage is an intense emotion. Add insanity and/or sociopathy to the mix and you have a fucking time bomb.”

“How does he find them?”

“When we talked to him, he told us most people had heard of him through word of mouth and contacted him.”

“How does he know about the teenagers from other towns?”

“Maybe he’s got some kind of network in place,” he tells me.

The scenario isn’t a perfect fit. A lot of unanswered questions remain. But I know there are times when crimes simply don’t make sense, at least not in the mind of a sane person.

“Do you think this is enough to get a search warrant?” I ask.

“I’ll see what I can do to get things rolling.”

“We need to talk to some of the teens he’s helped in the past,” I say. “See if Stoltzfus sent up any red flags.”

“I’ll get to work on getting some names,” he replies.

More than anything, I want to turn around and help him with those names, but I’m nearly to the Mast place. Better to get this out of the way while I’m here. “I’ll finish up as quickly as possible and head your way.”

I barely notice the smell of hogs or the tall cornstalks encroaching onto the narrow gravel track as I turn the Explorer into the lane of the Mast farm. My mind is still working over my conversation with Tomasetti. The more I consider the possibility of Gideon Stoltzfus’s involvement with the missing teens, the more convinced I am that he’s a viable suspect.

Child predators and other deviants go to great lengths to cultivate prospective victims, doing their utmost to become caregivers or counselors. Stoltzfus puts himself in direct contact with Amish teens who are considering leaving the Amish way of life. I know from experience that a good number of those teens are, at the very least, discontent, or, at worse, troubled—the type of teen that fits the profile of the missing. They would be vulnerable to someone who claims to have the answers to all of their problems.