Trust Me

In the meantime, she had a career to think of ... one that she had no intention of giving up. She had studied and worked hard to gain acceptance, and now recognition for her efforts. She didn't see herself as a housewife, tied down to raising children. Any marriage would be a compromise between the two partners. Both would have to agree to those conditions.

~*~

The sale closed quickly and Marshall was given possession at the beginning of September. He contacted the moving company and gave them the address of his new home. All his possessions with the exception of some of his clothes and a few personal items had been in storage until he found a permanent residence. He would be taking possession just before the Labor Day weekend. The furniture would be delivered a week later, giving him time to do any painting and minor renovations he required. He was energized by the thought of finally having the kind of home he really wanted.

He wouldn't be sorry to give up the trailer as his living space. It seemed to be getting smaller every week and he was anxious to have his new home ready to move in. It wouldn't require much to put it in that condition. Two rooms had carpet that needed to be replaced. He ordered a new hardwood plank floor for the room he chose for his office, while two rooms needed painting with some minor trim touch-up, after which it would be ready. The local lumber dealer dealt with the installation of the carpet and wood floor, while Marshall did all the necessary painting.

He was pleased with the end result. The former homeowners had upgraded the kitchen and bathrooms with new appliances and fixtures, along with granite counters. Aside from the minor amount that he had to spend on the floors and walls, he was satisfied that there was nothing else that needed attention.

As housewarming party was the next thing on the agenda. He consulted Antoinette as to who should be invited.

"Why are you asking me?" she wondered. "I'm happy to be a guest, but it's your house and your party. You should decide who to invite."

With that mild rebuke, Marshall rethought his plan. He was going to ask Antoinette's parents as an opportunity to meet them in a social environment. Now, he wondered if that was a good idea. Obviously, he would invite people from his office, but whom else should he include? Antoinette was a given, as was Jennifer, but aside from his partners and staff, he was at a loss if anyone else should be included.

"I guess it will be a small gathering," he mused. "I'm not that familiar with many locals yet."

He didn't see the sly grin on Antoinette's lips as he mumbled his comments.

"Don't pout, Marshall. It doesn't look good on you," she said, moving to his side.

"I'm not pouting ... am I? I'm just short of ideas as to who I should include."

"Well ... who would you like to meet?" she asked. "This would be a perfect opportunity for them and you to be introduced. There's the mayor, the County Commissioner, perhaps the District Attorney, any number of people you might come into contact with."

He nodded, still thinking about asking a different question. At length, he summoned up the courage to ask, "What about your parents? Don't you think I should meet them?"

"Ah ... at last ... the real reason for your question," she smirked.

"Well, we are dating ... and ... I assume ... exclusive," he stumbled awkwardly.

"I can assure you we are exclusive," she said, pulling him closer, almost eyeball to eyeball.

"So ... do you agree? Oh ... wait ... do they know about us?" he asked with a worried expression.

She laughed. She was enjoying his discomfort. "Yes ... they know about us. I'm sure they would love to meet the man who their daughter is dating."

Marshall exhaled in relief. "Good. I'll make sure I invite them then."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" she needled.

"Oh ... I wouldn't say that," he said, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her firmly. "Have they ever met any of your previous boyfriends?"

"Only one, and they didn't like him," she said, barely suppressing her laugh at his nervousness.

"Oh ... uhhm ... why not?"

"Well, I was eighteen at the time and he was twenty-two, I was in first year university and he was in fourth year, and ... I guess the big thing was ... he got into an argument with my father about how the French had abandoned the US after the 9-11 attacks. My father wasn't impressed and when he attempted to explain French politics, my then boyfriend didn't want to hear what he called excuses and grabbed my arm to lead me out of the house. I chose not to go with him," she said.

"Uh huh. Well, I can skillfully avoid any uncomplimentary remarks about France or French politics. My experience in France has been nothing but delightful. Where are your parents originally from?"

"Montreal," she grinned. "Not the one you're thinking of. This Montreal is a little town not far from Carcassonne."

"Ah hah! I've been in Carcassonne. That magnificent castle and all the surrounding vineyards. What a beautiful place. I stayed in a nice old B & B in Lagrasse and enjoyed every minute of my stay."

"I only remember the castle. I kept asking my mother if a princess lived there, and were there knights to guard her," she laughed.

"I wouldn't have been surprised if a princess did live there at one time," he smiled. But she moved away and came to America."

"You're just saying that to get on my good side," she teased.

"I thought I was already on your good side," he said, feigning surprise.

That brought about a long, deep kiss from her and his concern disappeared.

"I couldn't get over how big that castle was," he said as they broke. "There is a whole town inside the walls. I won't soon forget my time there," he said with a smile.

"Well, it doesn't sound like you're going to have any trouble talking to my parents. When did you travel in France?"

"Uhhm ... let me think. It was just after I graduated from law school and I needed to take a break. That would be 2008. Some friends of mine invited me on a three week tour of the south of France and the Rhone Valley. It was exactly the break I needed. I have a lot of pictures I took along the way."

Antoinette looked thoughtful for a moment before, "You weren't married then?"

"No, I got married that fall when I signed on with Parton-Faraday. I'd known Carolyn Meldrum from my third year in college. She waited for me while I finished my required time in the Marine Corps and then law school. The trip to Europe was like a three week bachelor party. After the wedding, we settled down in Omaha and everything was great for four years until ... until then."

"Only four years and she was cheating on you?" Antoinette said, shocked at the revelation.

"Uhhm, I'd rather not go into that, please. It's something I'm trying to put behind me."

"I'm sorry. I'm incurably nosy. I won't bring it up again," she promised.

He turned to her and laughed. "I don't believe you. You're dying to know all about me."

She could see the smile in his eyes and knew he wasn't rebuking her.

"Well since you brought it up, I didn't know you'd served in the Marines."

"Yes. I was ROTC at Waterloo and that helped pay for my tuition. I owed them one hitch and served it right before I started law school. Three years in Iraq, something I never want to revisit. But the Marines taught me how to be a man. I was just a smart-assed kid when I was inducted. I got older and wiser in a hell of a hurry."

"Is that what those marks on your back are?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah. Shrapnel from an RPG. I was lucky. Two of the guys with me weren't. I spent a month in Landstuhl and was discharged as ... unfit for duty."

"Oh ... I'm sorry ... I mean ... I'm glad. You survived. Are there any lasting affects from your wounds?"

"Some. No nightmares, if that's what you're wondering. A bit of nerve damage that affects my motor skills in the left hand. That was the reason for my discharge. Otherwise, since I'm right handed, no real problems.

I wouldn't have met you if they'd sent you back to Iraq, would I."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't," he said softly, holding her close. "But that's the fickle finger of fate for you. Something bad produces something good."

"Yes ... definitely something good," she agreed.

~*~

Marshall was amazed that nearly forty people showed up to his housewarming party. He'd inadvertently forgotten most of the invitees had wives (or husbands). Luckily, Antoinette was on top of the catering and recognized just how many people would come on a lovely, late summer afternoon. Marshall beamed at the warm welcome he received from his new friends and neighbors. It simply confirmed he had made a very good decision when he chose Ridgeview for his home.

And his good feelings were reinforced as he watched Antoinette circulate, having introduced him to almost every guest. He had no idea she was so well known in the community. But the crowning touch to the day was meeting her parents.

"Monsieur Tomlinson, welcome to our beautiful town," Monique Betancourt smiled as she was introduced.

"Thank you," he said with a broad smile, holding her offered hand gently. "I am so pleased to meet you. Antoinette has told me much about you and your husband."

"Ah ... well, she has told me much about you as well," she grinned slyly.

"Monsieur Betancourt, I am pleased to meet you, Sir."

"And I you," he said in moderately accented English.

"I have been in the district where your former home was located. It was a very beautiful part of France and I intend to return there some day soon."

"Yes, Antoinette mentioned you have been to Carcassonne. A very historic fortress, was it not?"

"Amazing. So large and containing a town inside its walls. I took many pictures, but it was so big that I was unable to get a single picture that included the entire castle."

Jules Betancourt laughed. "The pictures are like pictures of the pyramids in Egypt. They cannot begin to show the greatness of their presence. But I have no regrets that we have chosen this town in America to settle. I have a job I can enjoy and I am well rewarded for my efforts."

They carried on a conversation for several minutes until Antoinette pulled him away to introduce him to some of his other guests.

"Don't worry. They are suitably impressed with you," she smiled.

"Your parents are delightful. But ... that's no surprise, considering their daughter," he smiled, squeezing her to his side.

"Come along, I've got some people I want you to meet, Mr. Flatterer," she grinned.

~*~

They sat beside each other on the wicker settee, looking out over the yard toward the adjoining farm in the distance.

"This is a beautiful setting, Marsh. You've chosen well," Antoinette said.

"It is. It's perfect. You are perfect. You belong here," he said quietly, turning to her. "Is it too soon?"

He could feel her stiffen at his question, then gradually relax. "I think so. We've only known each other for a couple of months. Let's be patient, Marsh. It feels right, I know, but ... I wonder. I wonder if the shadow of Carolyn isn't still with you. The unsolved part of her, that is."

"I don't feel that way, but I'll wait. You're what I've always wanted and didn't know it. You aren't anything like ... her. I don't feel like I have to impress you, or prove I'm going to be king of the world," he smiled.

"You're right. You don't. I like you just the way you are ... even if you're a lawyer," she grinning, leaning into him and kissing him gently. "But the man I'll marry is going to be the king of my world."

That sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Marshall spoke.

"I watched you today. I watched you interact with all those people and saw their reaction to you. They like you and respect you. They like your family too. That king of the world thing is closer to the truth than you realize. You are part of Ridgeview royalty. I'd be marrying into that royalty if you chose me."

She laughed. "I think you're getting carried away, Marshall Tomlinson. Our family has been here for a little less than a generation. The dairy has been here much longer. It's established and an important part of the district. I get to ride on the laurels of its history. My parents and I are comfortable living here. It's where we want to be. I don't have any ambition to move away, and everyone knows that."

"I know. I can sense that. I want to be part of that feeling as well. I had that growing up, but lost contact with it when I moved away to college, then to Omaha and the apartment. This is a lifestyle I understand. No matter what becomes of us, I'll be here."

~*~

Antoinette was quite concerned about her reputation in the community and chose not to stay overnight with Marshall. It didn't prevent them from dating and they certainly made love when they were together, but she had steadfastly declined his invitation to cohabitate, even for one night.

"This is a small community and news travels fast, Marsh," she explained as they sat outside on the patio one evening. "I would be very upset if news of my private life were to become gossip around the district. Small towns like ours tend to be more conservative in thinking and I've learned to accept that. I hope you can as well. It doesn't mean we can't be ... together, just that we both need to be discrete."

Marshall sighed and nodded. "I understand. But I hope there will come a day when you decide in my favor of my offer of marriage and I can be with you when we wake in the morning. I love you, Antoinette. This isn't some fling or infatuation for me. This is serious. I love you and I want you to be my wife."

"I know, Marsh. I can feel it when we are together. Please be patient with me. This is a big step and I must be sure of my feelings. I've never been in love before and I'm trying to understand my feelings. I think you are the man for me, but ... well ... again ... please be a little patient with me. This is all new to me."

He nodded again. "I hope I can be patient enough for you. I'm not going anywhere, so you know where I'll be. In the meantime, if I can only have this time with you, I'll celebrate that."

"Thank you, Marsh. I was hoping you'd understand," she smiled. "Now, why don't we go inside and you can remind me why I'm here with you now."

Chapter 7 The Visit

Marshall had been in his new home only five weeks when he had unexpected visitors.

"Marshall Tomlinson?" one of two suited men asked as he answered his door one evening.

"Yes ... what can I do for you?" he wondered.

"I'm special agent Calvin Tabler, and my partner is special agent Brad Patrick of the FBI. May we come in and talk?" Both men were showing identity cards confirming their status.

"Uh ... well ... yes, I guess so. What's this about?" he asked as the two men politely entered the home.

"We'd like to talk to you about your late wife, Carolyn Meldrum," agent Tabler said.

"I don't understand. Her death was investigated three years ago by the Omaha police department in conjunction with the Iowa State Patrol. How is the FBI involved?"

"Do you know what WITSEC is, Mr. Tomlinson?" Tabler asked.

"Yes ... it's the witness protection program, but I've never been involved with it."

"I'm sure that's true," agent Tabler nodded. "I'm also sure you were never aware that your former wife was in the WITSEC program under an assumed name."

"What?" Marshall exclaimed. "I don't believe it. Surely she would have told me that. We were married for four years and knew each other for two years before that. I can't believe she would have kept something like that from me."

"She did. She was warned not to reveal her true identity to anyone regardless of the circumstances. That included her immediate family, who assumed she was dead. It was for her own protection. As far as we can determine, she kept that commitment," agent Patrick said.

"You'd better fill me in, gentlemen," Marshall said, now sitting down. "I'm having a hard time connecting her death, her life before that, and what you've just told me. Why are you here?"

The two men looked at each other before agent Tabler nodded and they sat on the sofa across from Marshall.

"I don't know what your late wife told you about her history, but she was born Cynthia Moore in Livonia, Michigan. That's a suburb of Detroit. When she was eighteen, her father was indicted on money laundering charges and held in custody for his own protection. Various members of organized crime did not want him testifying against them. Unfortunately, he was murdered while in custody. We suspect someone on the inside of the jail was bribed to look the other way.

"We were certain that Mr. Moore's wife was also involved or at least knowledgeable about the laundering and along with Cynthia, they were both scooped up by the US Marshals Service and moved to a safer location. Mrs. Andrea Moore, Cynthia's mother, supposedly committed suicide a few months later. We are not convinced that it wasn't murder and arranged to appear to be suicide. Once again, we moved Cynthia to another location, this time Waterloo, Iowa.

"She was provided with another identity and enrolled at the local university. Needless to say, her appearance was altered to further protect her. Since no other attempts were made on her, we, and the US Marshals Service, were convinced she was successfully hidden. Obviously, we were wrong. We are confident neither you nor Mrs. Vance, the other victim's wife, were involved in the murders. We are equally sure that the killers were once again making certain that no one could testify against them. As a consequence, the case against the crime syndicate has been stayed pending a decision by the United States Attorney's Office. I can't tell you any more than that."

Marshall sat back in his chair. "How does this affect me?"

"Our concern is that the accused organization may consider you a risk," Patrick said. "They might believe your wife may have revealed her identity and the reasons for her being in the WITSEC program. That would put you and perhaps others close to you in danger."

"Why wouldn't they have come after me before now?" Marshall wondered aloud. "It's been three years since the murders."

Both men were shaking their heads. "We don't know. Perhaps they thought when you were questioned about the murders that if you knew something it would come out then. When you left Omaha, I would have thought they might come after you, but that doesn't seem to have happened. You aren't exactly hiding here in Oregon, and most of the people you worked with knew where you were going. We're baffled too. But the case against this outfit is still active despite the loss of witnesses. They know that and I'm sure they're trying to eliminate anyone who might have information that would be harmful to them."

"Yes ... but anything I might have known would be hearsay and not admissible," Marshall said.

"In court, you're right. But these people don't observe the niceties of law. I doubt they would want to risk their futures on a judge's decision on a point of law. That's why we're here today," Tabler said.

"What happens now?" Marshall asked. "I don't know anything that can incriminate them. I knew nothing about the witness protection my wife was under. I was certainly unaware of her real identity. So ... what happens now?" Marshall repeated.

"Maybe nothing," Patrick said. "Like you said, it's been three years and they haven't come after you. But you can help us and yourself if you notice any unusual activity: someone watching you, or following you, for example. We just want you to be aware of what is going on around you. We operate out of the Portland office and we'll leave you our cards with our direct phone lines. We don't want to alarm you, but we do want to make sure you know what this is about."