Webster County deputy's shooting of chase suspect ruled justified
Webster County Sheriff Luke Fleener revealed more information Thursday about the shooting and disclosed the results of the DCI's investigation in a news release.
The April 7th shooting was the result of an incident that began when WCSO was dispatched to a domestic disturbance in Gowrie involving a man who had been drinking. The man, who Sheriff Fleener identified as 41-year-old Shawn Marshall, left the location before deputies arrived, and they were informed he had a gun in his truck and might harm himself or others.
Suspect shot and killed by law enforcement on I-80 identified
Deputies located the truck Marshall was driving, and a chase began that went through Dayton and the southern part of the county. Stop sticks and a PIT maneuver led to the disabling of Marshall's truck near River Road and Highway 175.
As deputies approached Marshall's truck, they ordered him to put his hands up. The WCSO said Marshall reached down to the passenger seat and told deputies he was getting his gun, then made a shooting motion toward a deputy through the back window of the truck.
A WCSO deputy fired one shot through the back passenger window, hitting Marshall in the right hand.
Sheriff Fleener said the deputy who fired the shot was Matt Miller, who has 1 1/2 years of law enforcement experience with the WCSO..
The Sac County Attorney's Office conducted the official review of the officer-involved shooting in order to avoid a conflict of interest. Based on the investigation by the Iowa Division of Criminal Investigation, the SCAO concluded the use of reasonable and deadly force was justified.
Sac County Attorney Ben Smith provided a statement about the investigation.
'Based on the totality of the evidence—including body-worn and dash camera footage, witness statements, dispatch records, and forensic reports—the Sac County Attorney's Office concludes that Deputy Matthew Miller's use of reasonable and deadly force on April 7, 2025, was justified under Iowa Code §§ 704.1 and 704.3. His actions were reasonable, proportionate, and necessary to neutralize an imminent threat posed by Shawn Marshall. Not only did Deputy Miller's actions meet the legal requirements for using deadly force, but he also demonstrated professionalism and extraordinary situational awareness throughout the incident.'
Sac County Attorney Ben Smith
Deputy Miller will be allowed to return to active duty after completing a psychological review, per department policy.
Sheriff Fleener said Marshall remains hospitalized due to his injuries. Criminal charges are pending in the incident.
Webster County deputy's shooting of chase suspect ruled justified
Where in Iowa large hail could fall Thursday night
'Hope cannot be forgotten': Iowa inmates to get cold case playing cards with 52 unsolved cases
ISU students react to proposed tuition price hike
Bill creating a center of intellectual freedom at University of Iowa sent to governor's desk
Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
San Francisco Chronicle
14 hours ago
- San Francisco Chronicle
He earned a small town's trust. He owed $95 million in what authorities say was a Ponzi scheme
HAMILTON, N.Y. (AP) — For decades, Miles 'Burt' Marshall was the man you went to see in a stretch of upstate New York if you had some money to invest but wanted to keep it local. Working from an office in the charming village of Hamilton, down the road from Colgate University, Marshall prepared taxes and sold insurance. He also took money for what was sometimes called the '8% Fund,' which guaranteed that much in annual interest no matter what happened with the financial markets. His clients spread the word to family and friends. Have a retirement nest egg? Let Burt handle it. He'll invest it in local rental properties and your money will grow faster than in a bank. Marshall was friendly and folksy. He gave away gift bags with maple syrup, pickles and local honey in jars labeled with cute sayings like, 'Don't be a sap. For proper insurance coverage call Miles B. Marshall." 'He would tell you about all the other people that invest. Churches invest. Fire companies invest. Doctors invest,' said one client, Christine Corrigan. 'So you'd think, 'Well, they're smart people. They wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't okay to do ... Why are you going to be the suspicious one?' Then it all came crashing down. Marshall owed almost 1,000 people and organizations about $95 million in principal and interest when he filed for bankruptcy protection two years ago, according to the trustee's filings. This summer, the 73-year-old businessman was indicted on charges that his investment business was a Ponzi scheme. He could face prison time if convicted. Marshall's lawyers declined to comment. Total losses by Marshall's investors fall short of the multibillion-dollar Ponzi scheme masterminded by Bernie Madoff. But they loom large in the small, college town of about 6,400 people and its largely rural surrounding area. Many investors were Colgate professors, laborers, office workers or retirees. Some lost their life's savings of tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars. Corrigan and her husband, who own a restaurant 30 miles (48 kilometers) east, were owed about $1.5 million. Now they're wondering how someone who seemed so reliable, who held annual parties for his clients and even called them on their birthdays could betray their trust. 'You look at life differently after this happens. It's like, 'Who do you trust?'' said Dennis Sullivan, who was owed about $40,000. 'It's sad because of what he's done to the area.' A reliable local businessman Marshall and his wife lived in a brick Victorian, blocks from his office. Aside from insurance and tax preparation, he rented more than 100 properties and ran a self-storage business and a print shop. His parents had run an insurance and realty business in the area and the Marshall name was respected locally. Though he quit college, he was a federally enrolled tax professional. To many in the area, he seemed knowledgeable about money and kept a neat office. 'He had French doors and a beautiful carpet and a big desk and he just looked like he was prosperous and reliable," Corrigan said. Marshall began taking money from people to buy and maintain rental properties in the 1980s. People got back promissory notes — slips of paper with the dollar amount written in. Withdrawals could be made with 30 days' notice. People could choose to receive regular interest payments. Participants saw the transactions as investments. Marshall has called them loans. For many years, Marshall made good on his promises to pay interest and process withdrawals. More people took part as word spread. Sullivan recalls how his parents gave Marshall money, then he did, then his fiancee, then his fiancee's daughter, then his son, and even his snowmobile club. 'Everybody gets snowballed into it,' Sullivan said. A number of investors lived in other states, but had connections to the area. The promise of 8% returns was unremarkable in the '80s, a time of higher interest rates. But it stood out later as rates dropped. Marshall told a bankruptcy proceeding that he assumed appreciation on his real estate would more than cover the debts. 'That's obviously false now," he said, according to filings, "but that's what I always thought.' The money stopped flowing by 2023. Marshall filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection that April, declaring more than $90 million in liabilities and $21.5 million in assets, most of it in real estate. He explained in a filing that he had been been hospitalized for a 'serious heart condition' that required two surgeries, costing him $600,000. As news of his illness spread, there was a run on note holders asking for their money back. The bankruptcy trustee, Fred Stevens, blamed Marshall's insolvency on incompetent business practices and borrowing from people at above-market rates. The trustee contended that by 2011, Marshall was using new investment money to pay off previous investors, the hallmark of a Ponzi scheme. Prosecutors claim Marshall falsely represented the profitability of his real estate business and had his staff generate "transaction summaries' with bogus information about account balances and earned interest. Money was funneled into his other businesses and he spent hundreds of thousands of investors' dollars on personal expenses, including airline travel, meals out, groceries and yoga studios, according to prosecutors. Marshall's clients feel betrayed. 'We left it there so that it would accumulate. Well, it accumulated in his pocket,' Barbara Baltusnik said of her investment. The ripple effects of multimillion-dollar losses Marshall pleaded not guilty in June to charges of grand larceny and securities fraud. He's accused of stealing more than $50 million. Marshall's home and properties were sold as part of bankruptcy proceedings, which continue. People who gave Marshall their money stand to recoup around 5.4 cents on the dollar from the asset sales. Potential claims against financial institutions are being pursued, according to the trustee. Baltusnik said she and her husband were owed hundreds of thousands of dollars and now she wonders how she will pay doctors' bills. Sullivan's mother moved in with him after losing her investment. In Epworth, Georgia, retiree Carolyn Call will never see money she hoped would help augment her Social Security payments. She found out about Marshall though an uncle who lived in upstate New York. 'I'm just able to pay my bills and keep going," she said. "Nothing extravagant. No trips. Can't do anything hardly for the grandkids.'
14 hours ago
He earned a small town's trust. He owed $95 million in what authorities say was a Ponzi scheme
HAMILTON, N.Y. -- For decades, Miles 'Burt' Marshall was the man you went to see in a stretch of upstate New York if you had some money to invest but wanted to keep it local. Working from an office in the charming village of Hamilton, down the road from Colgate University, Marshall prepared taxes and sold insurance. He also took money for what was sometimes called the '8% Fund,' which guaranteed that much in annual interest no matter what happened with the financial markets. His clients spread the word to family and friends. Have a retirement nest egg? Let Burt handle it. He'll invest it in local rental properties and your money will grow faster than in a bank. Marshall was friendly and folksy. He gave away gift bags with maple syrup, pickles and local honey in jars labeled with cute sayings like, 'Don't be a sap. For proper insurance coverage call Miles B. Marshall." 'He would tell you about all the other people that invest. Churches invest. Fire companies invest. Doctors invest,' said one client, Christine Corrigan. 'So you'd think, 'Well, they're smart people. They wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't okay to do ... Why are you going to be the suspicious one?' Then it all came crashing down. Marshall owed almost 1,000 people and organizations about $95 million in principal and interest when he filed for bankruptcy protection two years ago, according to the trustee's filings. This summer, the 73-year-old businessman was indicted on charges that his investment business was a Ponzi scheme. He could face prison time if convicted. Marshall's lawyers declined to comment. Total losses by Marshall's investors fall short of the multibillion-dollar Ponzi scheme masterminded by Bernie Madoff. But they loom large in the small, college town of about 6,400 people and its largely rural surrounding area. Many investors were Colgate professors, laborers, office workers or retirees. Some lost their life's savings of tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars. Corrigan and her husband, who own a restaurant 30 miles (48 kilometers) east, were owed about $1.5 million. Now they're wondering how someone who seemed so reliable, who held annual parties for his clients and even called them on their birthdays could betray their trust. 'You look at life differently after this happens. It's like, 'Who do you trust?'' said Dennis Sullivan, who was owed about $40,000. 'It's sad because of what he's done to the area.' Marshall and his wife lived in a brick Victorian, blocks from his office. Aside from insurance and tax preparation, he rented more than 100 properties and ran a self-storage business and a print shop. His parents had run an insurance and realty business in the area and the Marshall name was respected locally. Though he quit college, he was a federally enrolled tax professional. To many in the area, he seemed knowledgeable about money and kept a neat office. 'He had French doors and a beautiful carpet and a big desk and he just looked like he was prosperous and reliable," Corrigan said. Marshall began taking money from people to buy and maintain rental properties in the 1980s. People got back promissory notes — slips of paper with the dollar amount written in. Withdrawals could be made with 30 days' notice. People could choose to receive regular interest payments. Participants saw the transactions as investments. Marshall has called them loans. For many years, Marshall made good on his promises to pay interest and process withdrawals. More people took part as word spread. Sullivan recalls how his parents gave Marshall money, then he did, then his fiancee, then his fiancee's daughter, then his son, and even his snowmobile club. 'Everybody gets snowballed into it,' Sullivan said. A number of investors lived in other states, but had connections to the area. The promise of 8% returns was unremarkable in the '80s, a time of higher interest rates. But it stood out later as rates dropped. Marshall told a bankruptcy proceeding that he assumed appreciation on his real estate would more than cover the debts. 'That's obviously false now," he said, according to filings, "but that's what I always thought.' The money stopped flowing by 2023. Marshall filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection that April, declaring more than $90 million in liabilities and $21.5 million in assets, most of it in real estate. He explained in a filing that he had been been hospitalized for a 'serious heart condition' that required two surgeries, costing him $600,000. As news of his illness spread, there was a run on note holders asking for their money back. The bankruptcy trustee, Fred Stevens, blamed Marshall's insolvency on incompetent business practices and borrowing from people at above-market rates. The trustee contended that by 2011, Marshall was using new investment money to pay off previous investors, the hallmark of a Ponzi scheme. Prosecutors claim Marshall falsely represented the profitability of his real estate business and had his staff generate "transaction summaries' with bogus information about account balances and earned interest. Money was funneled into his other businesses and he spent hundreds of thousands of investors' dollars on personal expenses, including airline travel, meals out, groceries and yoga studios, according to prosecutors. Marshall's clients feel betrayed. 'We left it there so that it would accumulate. Well, it accumulated in his pocket,' Barbara Baltusnik said of her investment. Marshall pleaded not guilty in June to charges of grand larceny and securities fraud. He's accused of stealing more than $50 million. Marshall's home and properties were sold as part of bankruptcy proceedings, which continue. People who gave Marshall their money stand to recoup around 5.4 cents on the dollar from the asset sales. Potential claims against financial institutions are being pursued, according to the trustee. Baltusnik said she and her husband were owed hundreds of thousands of dollars and now she wonders how she will pay doctors' bills. Sullivan's mother moved in with him after losing her investment. In Epworth, Georgia, retiree Carolyn Call will never see money she hoped would help augment her Social Security payments. She found out about Marshall though an uncle who lived in upstate New York. 'I'm just able to pay my bills and keep going," she said. "Nothing extravagant. No trips. Can't do anything hardly for the grandkids.'
USA Today
04-08-2025
- USA Today
Who killed bartender, 3 others in Montana mass shooting? What to know about the killings
Four days after authorities said a lone gunman walked into a Montana bar, brazenly opened fire and killed a bartender and three patrons, the suspected shooter, identified as a former U.S. Army solider, remained on the run. The quadruple shooting, officials from multiple law enforcement jurisdictions reported, took place on Friday, Aug. 1 at The Owl Bar in the rural town of Anaconda in Deer Lodge County, just over a 100-mile drive west of Bozeman. The Montana Division of Criminal Investigation (DCI) reported the killings took place at about 10:30 a.m. local time and, during a weekend press conference in southwest Montana, State Attorney General Austin Knudsen identified the four victims as local residents aging in range from 59-75 including a 64-year-old woman who tended the bar. Officials are pursuing murder suspect Michael Brown, 45, who they said lived next door to the bar, in connection to the victims' deaths. The suspect in the case remained a fugitive from justice, an Anaconda Deer Lodge County Police Department spokesperson confirmed to USA TODAY on Monday, Aug. 4. Here's what to know about the fatal bar shooting as police continue the search for the suspect. 'In cold blood': Police urge vigilance with 'unstable' suspect on run after 4 killed in Montana bar Who is the suspect in Montana bar mass shooting? Law enforcement identified the suspect as a 45-year-old Michael Paul Brown. On Aug. 3, the Granite County Sheriff's Office, also investigating the case, reported Brown's house next door to the bar had been cleared by SWAT but were warning people to avoid the area. "This is an unstable individual who walked in and murdered four people in cold blood for no reason whatsoever. So there absolutely is concern for the public," Knudsen said. Who are the Owl Bar shooting victims? During the press conference, Knudsen identified the victims as: Where is The Owl Bar? The bar is located in the town of Anaconda, Montana, about 100 miles southeast of Missoula. As of Aug. 4 the bar was temporarily closed, an online search showed. USA TODAY has reached out to the bar. What happened in The Owl Bar shooting? About 10:30 a.m. local time, the suspect walked into The Owl Bar and opened fire, killing four people, officials said during the news conference. He then fled the scene in a white truck. Where was the suspected gunman last seen? According to DCI, video surveillance captured the suspect leaving the bar after the shooting. Law enforcement later found the truck, said Lee Johnson, DCI administrator. Residents in the area were notified and, as of Aug. 4, continued to be asked to stay inside their homes as officials said the suspect is considered armed and dangerous. Montana bar shooting suspect description Authorities described Brown as 5 feet, 10 inches tall, weighing about 170 pounds with blue eyes and brown hair. Brown, a U.S. Army veteran, allegedly fled the scene in his white Ford F-150 truck. Brown served as an Army armor crewman from January 2001 to May 2005, which included a deployment to Iraq from February 2004 to March 2005, Army Maj. Dustin Ramos told USA TODAY. He served in the Montana National Guard from April 2006 to March 2009. Who is investigating the Montana bar shooting? The case remained under investigation Aug. 4 with the Montana Highway Patrol, Deer Lodge County Attorney Morgan Smith's Office, and the FBI assisting. "We are doing everything we can to bring this perpetrator to justice," Anaconda Deer Lodge Police Chief Bill Sather said during a news conference the day of the killings. Reward offered in Montana bar mass shooting The U.S Marshals Service is offering a reward of $7,500 for any information leading to Brown's arrest or capture. Anyone who sees Brown is asked to call 911 or call 1-877-926-8332 to report a tip. Natalie Neysa Alund is a senior reporter for USA TODAY. Reach her at nalund@ and follow her on X @nataliealund.
