Sex offenders rarely lose their lives when the public learns of their crimes. But they do often lose the chance to find a place to live.

Much more common than the murders earlier this week of two Maine sex offenders is the reality of ostracism, said Scott Matson, a researcher with the federally funded Center for Sex Offender Management in Maryland.

Landlords won't rent to sex offenders. Neighbors might start public campaigns to drive them out of town.

While few people spare much sympathy for the plight of sex offenders, the problem, said Matson, is that a stable environment may be one of the best ways to prevent the criminals from re-offending.

From the isolation of prison, they find themselves in a world where anyone with access to the Internet can easily learn of their past. "Information can be used to shake (their) stability," said Matson.

In the Upper Valley last week, two sex offenders designated by the state as having a high potential of re-offending had difficulties finding housing following publicity about their release.

Leon Colbeth, who was recently released from prison after serving 13 years on charges including sexual assault of a minor, ended up at the Vermont State Police barracks lobby last Friday with no place to go after his landlord in Randolph Center ordered him to leave.

Colbeth eventually left the barracks with a bag of his belongings, and his cousin said he was camping on a Randolph resident's property.

Thomas Pellerin, another high-risk sex offender who was released last Thursday from Southern State Correctional Facility in Springfield, Vt., had planned to move to Weathersfield, but could not find a place to stay. He is living in Windsor.

Rob Hofmann, commissioner of Vermont Department of Corrections, said that there is not much available for sex offenders who, like Colbeth and Pellerin, serve their maximum prison sentence because they did not participate in treatment programs.

The state does have some halfway houses, but those are reserved for lower-risk offenders, he said. A major reason for that, he said, is that the state has told communities where the housing is located that its presence won't be dangerous. "We need to be honest with the communities we're partnering with," he said.

According to a Department of Corrections report, four offenders considered "high risk" are being released this year.

Housing is a problem for all criminals getting out of prison, said Hofmann, noting that there are now about 100 inmates who have remained in prison beyond their minimum sentences primarily because there is no housing available for them.

Moreover, those high-risk inmates released amid a swirl of publicity are a special case.

"It's certainly an area of concern for us," he said. "The main reason for their predicament is themselves."

At this point, the state counts on the faith-based volunteers who take some of the toughest cases. One is Pastor Pete Fiske of the St. Albans, Vt.-based Church at Prison.

"Society does not give them a chance to be really re-established," said Fiske. "Being rejected by society makes them more antisocial, and makes them much more likely to re-offend."

Many of them wish to start fresh in other states; he said he tries to connect them with a Christian ministry in another state, then helps them with airplane tickets.

"What's really needed is some kind of interim facility," particularly for sex offenders, he said. He said he envisions a work farm that helps them with vocations, gives them a chance to earn money and at the same time removes them from children.

Twenty-six states list all sex offenders against minors on their Web sites, said Matson of the Center for Sex Offender Management. Eight, including Vermont and New Hampshire, list specific types of crimes against children. Another 15 post only those offenders determined to pose moderate or high risk, as determined through a combination of actuarial models and other factors, such as whether the offender received treatment.

"Registries operate on the premise of 'stranger danger,'" said Matson, even though nearly all sex crimes are committed by people known to the victims.

A growing number of states, he said, are taking actions that restrict where offenders can live: 18 have zoning restrictions that say sex offenders cannot live within certain distances of schools, day cares or parks.

"People develop sex offender-free zones," he said.

In Maine, police say Stephen Marshall of Nova Scotia looked up 34 sex offenders on the state's online registry before showing up at the homes of Joseph Gray, 57, and William Elliott, 24, then shooting them with a .45-caliber handgun on the morning of Easter Sunday. Marshall fatally shot himself that night after police confronted him on a bus in Boston.

New Hampshire had its own case of attacks against sex offenders when Lawrence Trant three years ago stabbed a man and lit fires in two buildings in Concord where at least seven convicted sex offenders lived.

He was sentenced to 10 to 30 years in prison after pleading guilty to two counts of attempted murder. In a prison interview in 2004, Trant, then 57, said he thought his crimes were "morally justified."

In the Upper Valley, a much less serious incident of vigilante justice occurred in Lebanon last May when Christopher Dozier, 22, of Plainfield, knocked on the door of a registered sex offender and then punched him in the face.

Dozier had learned Ronald W. Duby, 32, was a sex offender not from the Internet but from his friends, who at that time lived in the apartment below Duby.

His friends told him "the guy upstairs was a convicted child molester," a Lebanon Police affidavit on file at Lebanon District Court says. "Dozier stated that this information ticked him off, so he went upstairs and punched Duby one or two times ... Dozier stated he had no right to do what he did. He just got mad at the fact that Duby was a child molester."

The early morning attack left Duby, who was convicted in 1995 of felonious sexual assault in Windsor County, with a visible fat lip and a sore jaw, police said.