Neither believes Kimbell killed anyone. Like some other people in New Castle, they agree with the jury which, in Kimbell's second trial in May, acquitted him of slaughtering a woman and three girls in June 1994, releasing him after four years on death row.

The way the McConahys see it, however, that's no reason not to be careful.

"He doesn't bother us," Patty McConahy said. "(But) I'd feel safer if he wasn't living next door."

Or if someone else were found guilty.

More than five years after being arrested, Kimbell, the only suspect ever charged with the brutal stabbings of Bonnie Dryfuse, her two daughters and the girls' cousin, is a free man, living again in his hometown about 45 miles north of Pittsburgh and not far from where the murders occurred in Pulaski Township.

And while prosecutors weigh whether to officially reopen the investigation, the 40-year-old Kimbell struggles to reacquaint himself with life on the outside possessing little more than a spot to sleep on his sister's floor, a fishing license, and lots of spare time to ride his bicycle around town or wave to well-wishers driving by the house where he lives.

One kid threw a pepperoni roll at him. Other than that, he says, most folks he's run into have been generally supportive.

"Somebody told me I should leave, but I've lived in this town my whole life," Kimbell said.

It took police 2 1/2 years to arrest Kimbell, and authorities said jailhouse informants heard him talk of the murders. Saying Kimbell had a history of violence, he had been under suspicion since witnesses told police they had seen him near the scene of the murders.

That day, Bonnie Dryfuse was watching her daughters, 7-year-old Jacqueline and 4-year-old Heather, as well as their cousin, 5-year-old Stephanie Herko. All were found stabbed multiple times, the girls' bodies stacked up in a bathroom.

Police said Kimbell knew details about the crime scene -- like how the back door was secured, and how the mutilated bodies were found -- that no one else could have known. Kimbell said he heard those details from police, during interviews or on the scanner, but authorities said no mention was made of those things.

Prosecutors from the attorney general's office, which took over the case, lacked a weapon, fingerprints, DNA -- any physical evidence linking Kimbell to the crimes. Besides the informants, they had a theory, that Kimbell, an acknowledged crack cocaine user, was high, and went to the trailer home looking for drugs or money.

Then, the theory continued, he went berserk.

It held at the first trial, in 1998, and Kimbell was sentenced to death. But the state Supreme Court ordered a new trial, saying Kimbell's lawyer, Thomas Leslie, should have been allowed to explore inconsistencies in statements made by Mary Herko, Stephanie's mother.

Mary Herko had been on the phone with Dryfuse before the murders and told police several times that Dryfuse told her "someone" had pulled into the driveway just before she hung up.

But one occasion she told police Dryfuse said she had to get off the phone because "Jake" had pulled into the driveway. Mary Herko's brother -- Bonnie's husband, Thomas Dryfuse -- is called "Jake."

After being allowed to bring that into the second trial, Kimbell was freed.

"The killer left no evidence. That's a difficult fact to get over," said Anthony Krastek, the deputy attorney general who prosecuted the case. While he believes they tried the real killer, Krastek said he could see how a jury could acquit him.

Krastek said any attempt to throw suspicion on Thomas Dryfuse -- who found the bodies of his wife and the children -- is misguided. A woman who drove by the house about the time of the murders saw only one car -- Bonnie's -- in the driveway, he said, and Dryfuse would not have had enough time to clean up when police responded to his call.

Thomas Dryfuse does not have a listed telephone number, and a man who answered the telephone at the home of his sister, Mary Herko, said she would not talk to reporters.

In New Castle, several people said they find it hard to believe Kimbell would be capable of such violence or be so methodical as to not leave behind evidence.

"The way that things are, I'd have to honestly say, I don't think he did it," said Michael Norris, who lives three doors from Kimbell. "You've got to have proof somebody did it."

Lawrence County District Attorney Matthew Mangino says the case isn't closed, and he is talking to state police about reopening the investigation.

"We have three slaughtered children and a mother," he said. "That case will remain open as long as it can remain open."

And people in New Castle will wait to see if police and prosecutors can charge someone else in the old case as Kimbell readjusts to life after death row.

He has some dreams, of a house and Harley, but he has no job, no wife anymore. He has few prospects.

Sleeping on his sister's living room floor, he's up at 5:30 a.m. every day, still accustomed to prison hours. He talks of suing the state for the time he says he was wrongly incarcerated. He cuts the neighbors' grass for something to do.

Norris, who lives a few doors away, says another neighbor said Kimbell seemed "spooky" -- but who wouldn't, he asks. "If you put a mark on anyone, I guess they look spooky," he said.

Norris doesn't know much about the case, he admitted.

He trusts the jury knew what it was doing when it let Kimbell go.