“We got as far as the Philippines. We’re waiting for more info, but I’m not holding my breath. They’re cooperating, but it could take a while.”

I shake my head. “I can’t see Todd Long walking into that farm house and killing seven people. That takes a certain kind cold-bloodedness. Long was a scumbag, a manipulator, a rapist, but he was a follower. I don’t think he had that kind of bold in him.”

I can tell by the hard set of his mouth, the way he’s looking at me that Tomasetti doesn’t buy into my theory. “Let’s say you’re onto something,” he says. “How many people do you think were involved?”

“I think there was an accomplice.” I consider that a moment. “If the semen isn’t a match to Long, then we’ll know there was at least one other person involved. Any word on the results yet?”

“Lab says four to six days. I tried to push them, but they’re working under a backlog right now.”

I don’t want to wait that long, but of course I don’t have a choice. “I don’t believe Long is the man Mary wrote about in her journal.”

Tomasetti pins me with a doubtful look. “What makes you think that?”

I flush, embarrassed because I’m tossing out some pretty radical theories when I’ve had too much to drink. “In the video, even though she’s drugged, I see the revulsion on her face when she’s with Long. But the man she wrote about in the journal . . . she was in love with him. There’s a difference.”

He peels at the label on the beer bottle. “I’ll be honest with you, Kate. I think you’re in this too deep. I think you’re looking for things that aren’t there. Do yourself a favor and close the case.”

“The town council probably won’t give me much choice. If the tourists don’t come here, they’ll go to Lancaster County.”

“Ah, small town politics.” He shrugs. “If something changes, you can always reopen it.”

He’s right, but I say nothing. I’ll close the case. Officially, anyway. But I’ll keep looking. If I find out someone else was involved, I’m going to bring them to justice even if I have to mete it out myself.

I see Tomasetti struggling with something he wants to say, and I get an uneasy feeling in my stomach. “Are you going to let me drive you home?” he asks.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“I’ve missed you.”