Trust Me

The file date on the story was a month old. He continued to search the site to see if there was any more recent activity to report but found nothing. Again, he paused to wonder just what prompted involving a FBI shadow in Ridgeview. Was it just a precaution with no direct threat? In typical FBI fashion, they weren't about to tell him. But one thing was certain. He would be more vigilant now. The question that he asked himself was whether to tell Antoinette. For now, the answer was no.

~*~

Marshall began to monitor the Detroit Free Press site for further news on the pending trial and related events. It seemed like the most likely place to find a more current update on the situation. As the weeks passed that summer and early fall, he began to relax and without realizing it, he was less vigilant. That all came to an end one Saturday morning in October. He and Antoinette were sitting in the kitchen, having a conversation over coffee before leaving to do a little shopping in town.

Both heard a crack, followed immediately by a snapping sound of wood. They looked around, wondering what had happened when Antoinette noticed something.

"Marsh ... look at the window. There's a hole in it."

He turned and saw what she had seen and immediately reacted. "Get down! Now! Get down!" he commanded, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to the floor with him.

"What?" she looked at him in shock. "What's happening?"

"I'm pretty sure that was a bullet. Stay down," he said as he reached for his cell phone.

"Call the police," Antoinette said, fear now evident in her voice.

"I've got the FBI on speed dial, just in case," he said, looking around. "Let's hope they're available for a quick response," he mumbled, more to himself.

"Special Agent Tabler," the man answered.

"It's Marshall Tomlinson. We've just been shot at. We're in our home and what looks like a small caliber bullet came through our window in the kitchen while we were sitting there," he reported.

"Anyone hurt?"

"No ... not yet. No second shot. I'm sure the bullet is buried somewhere in the kitchen. We're down on the floor and we can move out of here without revealing ourselves, but I'm not sure where the shot came from."

"We're about twenty minutes out. Find somewhere that isn't visible from outside and stay there. When our people get there, we'll search the area and then come to your house. Leave this line open just in case the shooter makes another attempt. We'll bang three times on one of your doors if we want to come in. Got it?"

"Got it. We'll move to the laundry room. That room and the kitchen are in the back of the house. There's no window in there and I can secure the door."

"Okay. We're on our way. Sit tight, keep this line open, and we'll get to you."

Marshall stuffed the phone in his shirt pocket and turned to a visibly frightened Antoinette. His Marine training had kicked in and he was trying to remain calm and give her some confidence that he could protect her. There were no firearms in the house, so he had no defensive weapons, but if the FBI could get her quickly enough ... well ... that was his hope.

"The cavalry's on the way," he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "We'll crawl over to the laundry room and barricade ourselves in there. We'll be safe until the FBI gets here."

"Who's doing this, Marshall," she asked in a frightened voice.

"I don't know, but we'll find out. I'm guessing it has to do with the shooting of Carolyn, but that's just a guess. For all I know, it could just be a wild shot by a careless hunter."

"No one hunts around here," she said, the fear now much more evident.

"Calm down, Antoinette. We're going to be okay. I'll protect you. I'm the one with experience, remember," he said, sounding braver than he felt.

Together they crawled along the tile floor toward the laundry room. He closed the door behind them before standing and assisting Antoinette. He hugged her to him and offered soothing words of reassurance. It would be a while before she was completely calm.

It was nearly forty-five minutes later than Marshall heard a pounding on the front door. It was the three hits they had agreed on and he opened the laundry room door and ventured out into the kitchen, wary of his surroundings.

"Stay in the laundry room, Antoinette. Close the door and wait until I come and get you. The FBI are here now and I think everything is safe, but just to be sure, stay there, okay?"

She nodded, still the fear showing on her face.

Marshall made his way cautiously to the front door, checking the peep hole and recognizing both Tabler and Patrick before opening it.

"All clear?" he asked them.

"Yes," Tabler confirmed. "We have a team searching the woods off to the back right of your property. We suspect that's where the shot came from. We'll have a look at the bullet trajectory and see if we can spot where the shooter was. A forensic team will be along shortly to see if they can find the bullet."

"From the look of the hole in the window glass, it was small caliber," Marshall offered.

"What did you hear?" Patrick asked.

"A cracking sound followed almost at the same time by an impact sound. It sounded like it hit wood, but that's just a guess on my part," Marshall admitted.

"Okay, well, it sounds like we'll find it and then see if we can figure out where the shooter was," Patrick nodded.

As the hour passed, Antoinette appeared to have calmed down and making some coffee for the various strangers in the house. She made some tea for herself and Patrick admitted he preferred tea as well. The calm demeanor of the agents went a long way to calming Antoinette's fears.

~*~

"We've retrieved the bullet from the door frame," Tabler announced. "It's in reasonable shape, so the forensics guys should be able to identify it. I haven't said anything to your wife, but you may have seen this type of ordinance in your military service. It looks like it might be from a sniper rifle. Similar caliber and steel jacketed. We don't see a lot of this type in our usual operations. I think it's best if we move you temporarily and provide you with an escort."

Marshall sighed. It wasn't what he wanted to hear. "Will Antoinette be able to continue her responsibilities at the dairy?"

"Yes. We'll provide her with protection and a separate cover for you. Can you do most of your work from your office?"

Marshall nodded. "Yes. But if I have to go somewhere, I get plenty of notice, so I can contact your people and let them know I'm on the move."

"Good. The less conspicuous we are, the better. We're pretty confident your wife isn't the target, so we will provide her with light cover."

"Yeah ... assuming this is all about the Detroit situation. If it's not, then I don't know what to expect," Marshall said.

"Yeah ... neither do I," Tabler nodded.

~*~

It took a few days for Antoinette to calm down enough to resume her normal activities. She was aware of the FBI escort, but they weren't obtrusive and she was confident no one at the dairy operations was aware of them. She did wonder just how long the escort would be provided.

Marshall had received a phone call from Special Agent Tabler confirming that the bullet was likely of a kind used in a sniper rifle. It was .243 caliber, possibly a rifle available to almost anyone over the Internet. He knew it didn't have to be a big bullet to do a lot of damage to a human. How the sniper had missed was a mystery. Perhaps he was an amateur, rather than an ex-military man ... or woman. The agents plotted the trajectory of the bullet from the impact point through the window and had a pretty good idea where the shot came from. What made Marshall shiver was where he and Antoinette were sitting when the bullet passed them. It must have missed his head by inches, the sound of the glass and wood impact masking the sound of the projectile.

The agents also deduced that the shooter was up in a tree to get a decent angle through the kitchen window. There were a number of alder and maple trees in the woods that could have been climbed to give them the shot they sought. This brought back memories of Taliban snipers in his previous life. They loved to gain high ground to seek out their targets. Their armaments were much heavier and packed a more lethal punch than a .243. He'd managed to avoid them more by luck than cleverness, but he had no wish to encounter another sniper in this lifetime.

~*~

The FBI set up a meeting place out of the way in a small coffee shop attached to a gas station on the road to Eugene. If there was a reason for them to meet, that's where it would take place. The agents did not want to be seen visiting the Tomlinson home any longer. They had moved Marshall and Antoinette to a "safe house" in the outskirts of Eugene. It was close enough to their work to be an easy commute, but mixed in with the college town and the thousands of students made it an effective hiding place.

Marshall had no illusions that they weren't still vulnerable. The drive from Eugene to Ridgeview was over open road with few buildings along the way. The area was a mix of farmland and woods that might provide a sniper with good cover. At the suggestion of agent Tabler, he varied his route and timing to make his appearance irregular and unpredictable.

It was a different matter with Antoinette, however. She was upset and frightened that the attempted killer had not been caught and that Marshall would still be in danger. She desperately wanted to be with her husband, but her nervousness and irritability was eating on both of them.

"Sweetheart, I want you to go and stay with your parents," he said one morning in mid-December. "You're not sleeping well and you're going to make yourself sick if you don't get some rest. I want you with me, but right now, I think the best thing for you is to be with your parents where I know you'll be safe."

"No, Marshall! I'm not leaving you. I married you for better or for worse, remember. We're going to get by this. The FBI will catch this guy somehow. Besides ...," she sighed. "I'm pregnant."

"What! You are? Oh my God! That's incredible ... wonderful! I'm so happy for you and us," he exclaimed as he picked her up and whirled her about in his arms."

His kiss was deep and full of love for his wife. "All the more reason for you to be in the safe haven of your family. The tension will not be good for either you or the baby. We'll still see each other ... I promise. But now it's even more important that you are somewhere where you can relax and get proper rest."

"Marshall, I don't want to leave you. I can manage this. I know I haven't been sleeping well, but now ... with the baby coming ... I'm sure I'll be better. I do know I'll be better when I am with you than if we are apart."

He was shaking his head. "Please, Antoinette, please do as I ask. I can't possibly accept you being in harms way and risking both your life and the life of our child. Please do this ... for me."

The argument was winding down and she realized her husband wasn't about to relent on his plea. In the end, he helped her pack after she'd called her parents and let them know she wanted to stay with them for a while. They immediately worried that something had gone wrong in their marriage, but Antoinette assured them it was nothing like that and promised to explain when she got there the next morning.

Surprisingly, she slept well that night, although there was a tearful goodbye with Marshall when he left for work and she drove off to her parents' home. They had not yet told anyone about the pregnancy and Antoinette would be the bearer of glad tidings. Between Marshall and her, they worked out a modified story about someone out for revenge on Marshall and this separation was just a precaution. They said nothing about the shot that had missed him in their home, nor their contact with the FBI.

They talked to each other each evening on the telephone, deciding to meet for lunch several times during the week. But that wasn't enough for Antoinette. Pregnant women tended to have elevated hormone levels and she longed for Marshall's satisfying lovemaking. Short of renting a motel room, they were both getting rather frustrated with the separation. Something had to break soon. Christmas was coming and Antoinette absolutely refused to spend it apart from her husband.

Chapter 10 Who'd a Thunk?

"Mister Tomlinson, would you come to a meeting with us and the State Police in Salem on Friday?"

The phone call on Thursday afternoon from Special Agent Tabler had not been a great surprise, but the request for a meeting with the State Police was.

"Tomorrow? Why the State Police?" he asked.

"I think we have some useful information that will involve them," Tabler said.

"Oh ... okay, I guess. Should I bring my wife as well?"

"Uhhm, well, she's already been invited," he said cautiously.

"What? What do you mean? Why would you invite her separately?"

"Well, since you're not living together," he stumbled, " ... currently ... we thought it was important that both of you were invited," Tabler said, obviously uncomfortable.

"Is that all there is to it. Antoinette is not living here right now because I don't want her exposed to any danger. I'm the target here," Marshall said, on the edge of his temper.

"Yes, well, that's what we wanted to talk to both of you about," the agent said with a sigh. "Can you be here by ten in the morning?"

"Yes ... of course. Can I assume Antoinette will be there at that time?"

"Yes, she's confirmed she'll be here."

The rest of the conversation was brief with directions on how to find the State Police office and whom they should ask for.

Marshall had barely hung up the phone when he punched in the number for Antoinette's parents.

"Hello, Marshall. Antoinette's not home from work yet," he mother said in a welcoming tone.

"Uhhm ... would you ask her to give me a call when she does. It's important."

"Yes, of course. Is this about the problem you two are having?" she probed.

"Well, yes, indirectly. We'll know more tomorrow. I'm sorry I can be more forthcoming, Monique. I'm hoping all this will be solved soon and out of the way."

"We are so happy that you're going to have a family soon. We've waited a long time for this to happen and both Jules and I are so happy for both of you."

"Thank you, Monique. We are equally delighted and looking forward to parenthood," Marshall said sincerely.

"I'll tell Antoinette you called as soon as she gets home," Monique promised.

"Thank you," he said quietly as he hung up the receiver. "What the hell is going on?" he asked himself. "First the FBI ... and now the State Police."

There were no answers, even after Antoinette had called and told him that she had been invited to the same meeting as Marshall. Neither of them had any idea of what it was about, and neither Tabler nor Patrick was willing to discuss it over the phone. Marshall made arrangements to pick Antoinette up at her parents' home the next morning for the drive to Salem.

"I can't understand what the State Police have to do with this," Antoinette said as they headed north to Salem and their appointment.

"Neither can I, and they're not telling either. I suppose we'll find out soon enough when we meet with them," Marshall said with sigh.

They were met in the lobby by the familiar two agents; Tabler and Patrick. They announced our presence to the security officer and he nodded and made a quick phone call. It was a little before ten when they were ushered into a plain undecorated meeting room in the State Police headquarters.

They were introduced to Captain Ullman, the head of the Criminal Investigation Department.

"I know you're wondering why we've included the State Police in this investigation," Agent Tabler began. "I think it is appropriate since we've had a breakthrough in our investigation of the money laundering scheme I referred to. We've rounded up all the known suspects in that case and all of them are in custody. They have been questioned carefully about any attempt on your life, Mister Tomlinson, and we can find no indication that you were ever on their radar.

"That led us to look in a different direction, and for that, we contacted Captain Ullman to request his assistance. We believe that that shot that was taken at you, Sir, was for an entirely different reason. In that case, again with the assistance of the State Police, we looked a little deeper into this case. We did a search of all gun shops, and retail outlets in the four adjoining states to Oregon looking for any sales of a weapon which might be used for the attempt on you. We also searched the Internet for any sales of rifles which might be considered sniper rifles and were calibrated for .243 ammunition.

"Fortunately, it was a very short list and we were hoping either you, or Mrs. Tomlinson could help us identify anyone on our list who might have a reason to take a shot at you."

With that, Tabler pushed a plain piece of paper with the typed names of seven individuals on it. Marshall scanned the list quickly and shook his head, then passed the list to Antoinette. She looked at it and was visibly surprised at one of the names.

"You recognize someone, Mrs. Tomlinson?" Agent Tabler asked.

"Uh ... well ... yes ... I think so," she stammered.

"Which name?" Tabler asked again.

"This one," she said pointing at a name near the bottom of the list. "Terrance Wilford."

"And how do you know Mr. Wilford?" Tabler asked once more.

"Well ... I dated him a few times ... before I was married," she answered haltingly.

"Did you break up with him, or was it the other way around?" Tabler continued with the questioning.

"I broke up with him," she answered, clearly uneasy with the questions.

"Why?"

"He ... uhmm ... was getting quite ... involved with me. I wasn't feeling that strongly about him, but he was quite serious about our relationship," she managed.

"When was the last time you saw Mr. Wilford?" the Captain asked.

"Oh ... about a year ago," she answered, looking very uneasy.

"A year?" the police officer persisted. "Isn't it true you dated him more recently? In fact, weren't you seen in his company three weeks ago in Corvallis?"

"No ... that's not true. Who told you that?" Antoinette was clearly upset with the line of questioning.

"Let's just say a reliable witness saw you and Mr. Wilford enter the College Park Motor Inn on Thursday, November 17th. Would you like to change your answer to my question now?"

Antoinette appeared to be on the verge of collapse, while Marshall looked at her in shock. What was going on? Where was this leading?

"Is this true?" Marshall asked his wife, hoping against hope that it wasn't.

She had buried her face in her hands and was sobbing uncontrollably. "I didn't want to. I told him it was over. I'm married and ... I couldn't be with him again."

"So," the State Police Captain persisted, "you attempted to end a relationship with Terrance Wilford. How did he react to that?"

Antoinette was sobbing as she tried to answer. "He said ... he said it wouldn't be over ... until he said so."

"Were you aware that Mr. Wilford has admitted that he took a shot at your husband several weeks ago?"

She looked up in shock. "No! I had no idea he would do something like that."

Marshall was also in shock and the details of his wife's involvement with a man who attempted to kill him. He could only sit and listen as she admitted that she'd had an affair with another man only months after they were married.

The interview went on for almost another hour before it ended. Antoinette had admitted that Terrance Wilford had attempted to coerce her into continuing their relationship during her courtship with Marshall, and after they had married. It was a humiliating experience for both Marshall and Antoinette. It was also a breaking point for Marshall.