Trust Me

"Do your parents use your nickname?"

"No," she laughed. "No ... they insist on the full name. It speaks to my French heritage. Actually, I'm quite proud of my name, so you have full permission to use it regularly."

"Thank you," he smiled. "Now, why don't we find my truck and head for that whale watching place."

"Let's go," she said, taking his hand as they walked away. It was an instinctive but surprising move by her. Again, she noticed that strange feeling when they touched. She could see the flush on his face and knew it had caught him unaware, but he wasn't inclined to let go.

~*~

"We got really lucky today, Marshall. Those Minke and Humpback were feeding right near the edge of the kelp beds."

"It was amazing," he agreed, as they drove south to Newport, retracing their route. "The little whales were so small compared to that huge Humpback. I never realized they could be so big."

"You got a special treat today, courtesy of the State of Oregon," she smiled, delighted by his boyish enthusiasm.

"Courtesy of you, Antoinette. You suggested this, and it was inspired. It made today something really special. Thank you," he said sincerely.

"My pleasure," she smiled again more easily. It was nice to see someone so appreciative of their surroundings. It seemed there was nothing fake about Marshall Tomlinson. Aside from the tragic circumstances surrounding his wife, there was little about him that he wasn't willing to share.

She had noticed the stumble that implied her death might have been by accident rather than medical causes. She assumed if he wanted her to know the details, he would tell her. In the meantime, she would avoid anything leading to that subject.

Chapter 5 Developing a Relationship

As the summer season came to a close with Labor Day, Antoinette and Marshall had fallen into a somewhat steady dating routine. Marshall had begun his practice in his new partnership, easing himself into the waiting files and gaining some insight into the nature of the small office.

Tom Pierce was the senior partner and was happy to guide Marshall toward integrating himself into the practice. Both Tom and James helped him with identifying their retired partner's clients and introducing him to them. They were also rich with information on the nature of these clients. Marshall could not have hoped for more welcoming men to work with.

Along with the two senior partners, there were two paralegals and two secretary/receptionists. After the myriads of staff at Patton-Faraday, Marshall was amazed at how simplified his new office was, and equally pleased at just how efficient as well. More than once he congratulated himself on finding this opportunity.

Along with his delight at his new career, he was also equally happy with his budding relationship with Antoinette Betancourt. They began with Saturday dates; sometimes an afternoon picnic, now and then a dinner, sometimes the theater, and once or twice a music concert. Both of them were surprised at how easy their relationship developed. They had little in common in their backgrounds, yet their conversations were easy and comfortable. Marshall was beginning to examine his feelings for her and, he guessed, she was doing the same.

It came to a head on a windy Saturday afternoon on the Oregon Dunes. The two had been silent for a few minutes as they walked slowly along the beach hand-in-hand, marveling at the height of the dunes and how far inland they extended. But that wasn't the only thing on their minds.

"Marshall, where do you think our ... relationship ... is going?"

He stopped walking and turned to her with a slight smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

"I was thinking it was progressing far too slowly for my liking, but I wasn't about to upset you by pressing you too hard. Does that answer your question?"

"Completely. Now, to set you straight, I would like to see your temporary residence. If we are going to be an exclusive couple, I think it's necessary that I learn all I can about you. And ... I do mean all," she said with what he took to be a determined expression.

"I couldn't agree more," he said, the grin having never left his face. "Shall we go? It's getting chilly out here."

She stepped into him and took his face in her hands before kissing him. It was the most intimate moment they had shared. "Let's go. I'm sure we can find a way to warm each other up."

Antoinette surprised herself with her boldness. She wasn't saying or doing anything that she hadn't thought about. However, it was a spur of the moment decision to ask that important question and she knew with his answer that she had chosen the right moment. There was something about this man that told her he was "the one."

~*~

"I never expected to find a queen size bed in a place this small," she said as she snuggled into his shoulder.

"Just a bit of good luck," he said, stroking the side of her breast. "Very good luck, as it turns out. You can be a little rambunctious ... surprisingly."

"It's been a while for me ... and ... well ... I guess I might have been a little uninhibited. But I don't regret it ... if that's what you're wondering."

"It is ... and I'm glad you let go. You had me convinced you were a very reserved and proper young lady, but now I know you have that other side of your personality ... and I welcome it."

"It's been a while for you too, hasn't it Marsh?"

"Almost three years," he admitted. "I can't believe it's been that long. When I was in college, three weeks was an unbearably long time. I hope you won't think too badly of me confessing my misspent youth."

"I think the death of a loved one must be the most traumatic thing anyone can go through. I hope I can wash away all those bad memories. I have a good feeling about you ... about us," she said, reaching up to kiss him once more.

"I'm glad ... and relieved. I wondered if I would ever be able to capture you. I was being so careful, I'm sure I must have missed the signs that you were interested in me too."

"Yes ... almost from the beginning. Don't ask me why. I wasn't sure myself, but you didn't press me, and that was the best thing you could have done. You gave me time and space to figure out my own feelings."

"To answer your original question, I don't yet know where you and I will end up. I know where I'm hoping it will go, but I'm trying very hard to be patient and let you decide. Besides, there are things about me you don't know yet. If we are going to be together, I have to be completely honest with you. I don't know if you are ready for that yet."

"You make it sound ominous," she said, looking at him with concern in her expression.

"In a way, it is. Why don't we sit in the lounge and I'll tell you about it. I don't want any secrets between us. Not now. Not as long as we are together."

She nodded, the questioning look still firmly on her face.

He handed her a robe while he pulled on his boxers and a t-shirt.

The lounge was an L-shaped sofa at the rear of the trailer, with comfortable seating. Marshall poured each of them a glass of wine and sat, waiting for Antoinette to decide where she would sit. She chose to sit next to him. He took that to be a good omen.

"You know I am a widower, but you don't know how that came about. I'm very uncertain how you will react to this when I tell you. My wife, Carolyn, was murdered," he said, pausing to see her reaction.

Antoinette recoiled in shock. "How?" was all she managed as she stared at him.

"She was found in a motel room with another man, both of them dead from gunshot wounds," he said in a monotone. "It appears she was having an affair with this man, since they were both naked in the bed. The police woke me up that night to inform me that they needed to talk to me about my wife, but didn't tell me right away what the circumstances were. I was dazed when I found out that she was dead, and I agreed to accompany them to the morgue to identify the body.

"I was not thinking clearly, but there was no doubt that Carolyn was the body they showed me. After I made the identification, the lead detective took me downtown to police headquarters and began to question me. I put a stop to that immediately. I told him I wanted a lawyer present. He argued that I wasn't being arrested, just questioned. I insisted on legal representation and he said something about it making me look like I was hiding something, but then had to provide me with a phone. I called a colleague of mine who worked at another firm and who agreed to come down right away and meet me."

"Why was the detective being difficult?" she asked.

"The fact is, in cases like this, by far the majority of these 'crimes of passion' are committed by someone close to the victims. Not uncommonly, the husband, or wife, or someone else well known to the victims. I was a natural suspect, or as they call it now, a person of interest. I couldn't blame them, really. A cheating wife in the arms of her lover, shot dead. I was a natural suspect."

"What happened then?"

"My friend arrived and quickly put an end to the third degree. I was released pending further investigation. But that was just the beginning of my problems. The night Carolyn was murdered I had been working late ... as usual. It had become a sore spot with her, but I kept reminding her that my work was producing a very handsome income which she willingly spent. It was the price I had to pay to earn that partnership I was striving for.

"The next day, the police showed up at my door early that morning with a search warrant. I should have expected it, I suppose, but what I didn't expect was them ransacking the house. They made a hell of a mess, then left without so much as a sorry. Now, I was angry. I called my lawyer and he immediately filed a complaint with the police complaints commission. I was pretty sure it would go nowhere, but Dylan, my lawyer, filed notice of suit, citing damages plus punitive awards to get their attention. It worked. A rather unhappy crew of men came and attempted to put the house back in order. I had filmed the damage and Dylan and I used that to extract some money to clean and restore the damage that had been done.

"What I didn't know was that I had angered the senior assistant city prosecutor by being what she termed 'uncooperative.' Now she decided that I must be guilty, and had me brought in for questioning. All this was going on while I was supposed to be working on a high profile civil litigation issue for my firm. Once again, Dylan was called in to represent me. While I had a good background in civil law, my criminal law background was shallow. I needed a strong person to represent me and I had chosen well with Dylan McLeod."

"Were there any other suspects?" Antoinette asked, paying intent attention to my story.

"Yes, naturally, the wife of the dead man was questioned as well. I caught a brief glimpse of her later on. She was a rather mousy woman and I could see why her husband would be interested in my wife. When the media got a hold of the names of the victims, they made a big deal out of how rich the woman was. Apparently, it was her money, not his, so she could afford the best in criminal attorneys. I often wondered if she could afford the best in hit men, too."

"Do you think she knew her husband was cheating on her?" she asked.

"I think so. The story going around was that this wasn't the first time he'd strayed, but I never heard anyone corroborate that as fact. In the meantime, we were the two prime suspects and the fallout was mostly dropping on me. It was months later with the investigation still going on that I was called into the office of a senior partner. The upshot was that while I was one of their top people in the firm, I couldn't expect to be in line for a partnership with this hanging over my head. Unless and until it was cleared up, I was just spinning my wheels. My name was being bandied about in the media and I knew the consequences of that would be that clients would be leery of having me represent them. That's when I knew my career at Patton-Faraday was over."

"So ... what's the situation now? They obviously didn't charge you with the murders. Who did it?"

"Unknown. The assistant city prosecutor wanted to charge me on circumstantial evidence, but her boss nixed it. They could clearly claim motive, even though I didn't know anything about her infidelity. But ... you can't prove a negative. Anyway, means and opportunity were not on the table. They checked the clothing I wore that evening for gun shot residue and found nothing. I've never owned a gun in my life. I wasn't the only person working late that night, so I had witnesses that could attest to where I was up until ten that evening. The motel was thirty miles away and more than an hour's drive even at that time of night. The coroner established the approximate time of death at sometime between eight and ten o'clock that evening. The prosecutor's office declined to file charges."

"What about the wife of that guy? Did she have an alibi?"

"I'm not sure. Whatever she told them, they decided they couldn't charge her either. And, there were no other likely suspects. So the case, while still open, was set aside as unsolved. That was the worst possible result for me."

"Why?"

"I couldn't prove my innocence, so the unofficial media could have a field day with all sorts of articles about 'Did Marshall Tomlinson get away with murder?' You can guess what that did to my career? My parents and most of my friends stood by me, but it didn't help. I was finished in Omaha and Council Bluffs. I negotiated a severance and a letter of recommendation from my firm, but I was done ... no matter the final outcome."

"Oh, Marsh ... that's awful. I've heard of things like this happening, but I've never been close to something like you've gone through. Is there nothing you can do to clear your name?"

He shook his head. "Not unless the police come up with the person who committed the murders. There's no statute of limitations on murder. The case will remain open indefinitely. It may end up in a cold case file, but it won't be closed until there is a resolution."

Antoinette sat quietly, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. She was lost in thought. She couldn't bring herself to believe that Marsh had murdered his wife and her lover. It just didn't seem possible that he was capable of that. And then ... another thought crossed her mind.

"Does anyone in Ridgeview know about this?"

"Yes. Both Tom and James are aware of it. They checked out my background pretty thoroughly with both the police and my former employers before they decided to offer me the partnership. To my knowledge, no one else knows about it, but with the internet and access to information, it wouldn't be hard to find out about it. You might want to check it out yourself before you get involved with me," he said sadly.

"Too late," she snapped back. "I'm already involved. I won't pretend I know you so well that I can automatically dismiss the idea that you might have done it, but I am definitely leaning that way. This is a terrible thing to have held over your head. How do you cope with it, Marsh?"

"I've had three years to learn how. The investigation dragged on for almost twenty months before they gave up. I made no secret of my anger at the media for painting me a murderer without a trial or any evidence. Even the police, off the record, admitted they had nothing that linked me to the crime other than it was my wife and she was shacking up with this guy. By the time I left Omaha, there was no way I could have stayed and been left to make a living with the constant harassment the self-appointed vigilantes always on my tail. Even my parents had to move away for some peace and privacy."

"Where did they go?"

"Arizona. They found a nice home in Scottsdale and settled there. I talk to them regularly and they seem to be happy. I think Mom would rather be back in Council Bluffs, but she says she's making new friends and getting along okay."

"So here you are in Oregon, trying to make a new life for yourself," she smiled. It was the first smile he'd seen from her since he began to tell her about his troubles.

"Yes. I just hope it isn't a fool's paradise," he said quietly.

There was a protracted silence between them as they sipped their wine and looked anywhere but at each other.

Finally, "I don't think you're a fool ... or a murderer. Maybe I'm the fool, but I believe you. Don't ask me why. I don't want to examine my motives too closely."

"Thank you," he said, looking directly at her. "I'm grateful. But I guess the big question now is ... what about us?"

She didn't answer him immediately, but studied his face for a few moments before, "I think we answered that question about a half hour ago. In fact, maybe more of that might be good therapy for you," she smiled.

She heard his breath exhale in relief and almost laughed. "I take it you agree," she smiled.

"Wholeheartedly," he said, rising and offering her his hand.

They walked the few feet back to the now well-used bed. As he stripped and moved onto the bed, she could see unshed tears in the corner of his eyes. It was at that moment she was convinced he was not guilty of any crime. It may have been faulty reasoning, but it was her firm belief.

Chapter 6 A House is not a Home

Marshall thought long and hard about including Antoinette in his house-hunting efforts. For the present, he decided not to, although he wasn't sure why. There weren't a lot of listings in Ridgeview proper, but as he got to know the surrounding area, he could see that almost any of the surrounding towns and villages would be within easy reach of the law office. He widened his search before deciding to use the services of a real estate agent.

He found what he was looking for in the southern outskirts of Junction City. A classic ranch style home on a two acre lot in what appeared to be a prosperous area. The price was higher than he had anticipated, but a viewing of the house and the surrounding area convinced him that it was worth the money. As an afterthought, he invited Antoinette to look it over and give him an opinion.

"It's lovely, Marshall," she said as they toured the home. "All the appliances are new and the place is spotless. Four bedrooms, I notice. A little big for a single man," she said without looking at him. "A nice big back yard that backs onto farmland, too. It would give you privacy and a place to keep a dog."

He side-stepped the "single man" comment. "I was thinking that same thing," he agreed. "I'd probably want to fence part of the back and maybe install a pool. I think the weather's warm enough to get some good use out of it."

"It is ... from June to September. The rest of the time, it's a leaf collector," she grinned. "I have to tell you that swimming pools don't seem to be common around here for some reason. It may be drainage, or regulation, or something I don't know about, but I don't often see one."

"Can't say I haven't been warned then," he smiled. "I'll take that under advisement."

"So ... what's the verdict?" she asked, curious about his decision as they completed their inspection.

"Oh, I think this is what I want. Pool or no pool, I can be happy here ... with the right company, of course."

"Is that a condition of sale?" she asked slyly.

"No, not entirely, but it's more related to just how happy I could be living here," he said quietly. "I'm not trying to be obtuse, just an observation about myself. I have been living alone for three years and it was really difficult at first ... getting used to not having someone else in the house after nearly four years of being married."

She chose not to chase that comment any further. ~*~

Antoinette secretly delighted in Marshall's choice of a home. In her mind's eye, she could see herself living there, raising a family. It fit what she dreamed of as the ideal lifestyle. Whether that would ever come to pass was an entirely different question. It was too soon to think about a permanent relationship with Marshall ... or anyone else for that matter. She would have to be patient and see how they progressed over time.