Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters.

Authors Note: The actual plot from Harper's Island begins to show itself this chapter in the form of John Wakefield's original rampage. You can expect to see more canon in both story and character from here on out, and I'll do my best to do them justice. I'm counting on all of you to let me know how I do.

I want to thank my two kind reviewers as well as those who have simply stopped by to read my story. It would be nice to have a bit more input, but if you're simply enjoying yourself, that's fantastic. That's why it's being written.

In part.

Shane and Sarah are both insistent that their story be told, and between the two of them, there's plenty to be said. Particularly by Shane. Shocker, right? But enough of this, let's get on with the story.

Enjoy!

She Knew Him When …

"It's so weird. You've been here a whole summer without Trish."

"Poor Henry."

"Poor Henry," Abby echoed softly.

"Well, what can I say?" Sarah tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. "All the legal Wellingtons have flown the coop and you know Daddy. He's a stickler for tradition."

"And holding fast to the baby of the family." Abby grinned, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement as the other girl made a face. "It's not really summer on the island until the Wellington's make land. You can set a watch by your Dad's immediateness."

"Is that right? Immediateness? That's a big word," Sarah teased. "Pick that up studying for your SAT's?"

"Yep," Abby responded airily. She tugged on the zipper of her navy jacket. "It may come in handy in college next fall. I hear being a writer calls for knowing a few big words."

"God. Talk about weird. You're all going to be in college."

"But coming back in the summer," the older girl assured her. She placed two fingers across her breast and grinned. "Scout's honor. Besides, we're not all going to be leaving."

"No?"

"Nope."

Abby's ponytail swung back and forth as she shook her head.

"Jimmy?"

"Jimmy."

"He's staying?"

"Fishing's in his blood," Abby replied. She looked towards the line of trees closest to the marina, voice growing distant as she added, "Not unlike most people who grow up here. He wants his own boat someday..."

Sarah stared at Abby, wondering what was passing through her mind. Smiling quickly she waved off any concern.

"We'll make it work."

"Of course you will," Sarah agreed as they linked arms. "Henry and Trish are at two different colleges and they're still going strong."

Something in Abby's posture seemed to relax and she nodded.

"That they are. And you're right," she continued. "Things will be fine. Distance doesn't have to change things."

"No, it doesn't."

Shoes scuffed against the pavement as they walked through town. In the early morning, their movements and words seemed to break the peaceful silence. The sun was bright although it was doing little to warm at that point in the day. Both girls were still bundled up in their sweaters and jeans, but this was typical of island mornings as fall approached.

Taking in the kind smiles and friendly waves as neighbors opened their stores, Sarah wondered what it would be like to live on Harper's Island as a resident, and not a temporary guest.

The little fishing community seemed to thrive despite the small population. People left their doors unlocked, everyone knew who you were when you walked down the street or into one of the small restaurants. Disputes were small, laughter loud, and people seemed content. It was safe, mapped with good memories of generations past.

Harper's Island was a haven away from the rest of the world.

Why would Abby want to leave it all? Sarah wondered idly. What wasn't there to love about this place?

"I don't know about you," Abby blurted, startling Sarah from her thoughts. "But I'm freezing."

"I thought native's were supposed to be able to tough this kind of weather out," Sarah joked, blue eyes dancing.

"Maybe I'm not really a native," Abby joked back. She rubbed her hands together as she tried to ward off the cold. "Miss Betty's shop just opened. Tea?"

"Hot chocolate, please."

"Got it. I'll be right back."

Abby waved to the owner, Betty Chapel, as she approached the door, speaking to her with a cheerful smile on her face. It faltered a little as her father and one of his deputies arrived. Apparently they were feeling the bite of early morning as well.

Leaning against an old lamp post, Sarah hid her laughter as Abby attempted to extricate herself from her dad. But Sheriff Charlie Mills wasn't having any of it that morning. Clearly she wasn't the only one with an over-protective father.

"Makes me wanna gag."

Recognizing the gruff voice before she even saw him, Sarah tilted her head sideways.

"Shane." He raised a sandy eyebrow in greeting. "Don't you have children to torment or something?"

"Or something."

" Witty."

"Whatever."

He looked as if he'd just woken up. Judging by his wrinkled clothes, unruly hair, and the stubble darkening his face, he probably had. "Aren't you going back to the big city today?"

"You're not trying to get rid of me so soon are you?" Sarah smiled sweetly at him.

"If I had a catapult I'd use it to toss your scrawny butt back to the mainland."

"Ouch."

Shane grinned, tugging on a strand of dark hair. "You love me."

"Now that makes me want to gag."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You wish you could be so lucky."

Sarah didn't bother to disguise her laughter this time. Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, Shane yawned loudly.

"So what's with the urgency in cutting out a week early? Daddy herding you back to Chez Wellington for a big birthday party?"

"Something like that."

While it was partly true, Sarah didn't feel like elaborating that her Father was also preparing to go on a business trip with his fiancée, Katherine.

Business trip. To Acapulco. Right. How naïve did he think she was? She did have two older sisters that were in relationships.

"…seventeenth birthday?"

"Mmm?"

Sarah pushed her other thoughts aside as Shane cleaned sunglasses against his thermal, putting them atop his head as he gave her a look.

"I boring you, Princess? I asked you what you think you're getting for your birthday. Stocks? Bonds? Baseball team?" His voice was heavy with mockery.

"I prefer football, thanks." She looked over to see Abby heading towards them with their drinks, her father and deputy gone.

"My bad. So really, though. What's the best gift for a seventeen year old in your world?"

"My world?"

"Yeah." Shane scratched at his jaw absently. "You know the one outside of this God forsaken island. Not all of us think living on this rock is 'quaint' you know." He made quotes with his fingers, when she looked at him with surprise.

Considering his question, Sarah pursed her lips, then smiled.

"A car."

"Oh, hell no!" The dismay on his face was evident. "On what planet is letting you behind the wheel of a two-ton vehicle a good thing?"

"I'm a very good driver!" Sarah exclaimed, protesting even as Shane scoffed.

"Tell that to the car you sank in the lake behind the church."

"That was a golf cart, not a car, and it wasn't my fault."

"Car, cart, potato, potato. You were driving it," Shane's pointer finger wiggled in her face. "Your fault, kid. Nearly ran Reverend Fain off the road, too," he continued, a gleam in his eyes.

"Which, if I recall, you thought was pretty darn funny."

"Would've been funnier if you'd hit J.D. instead of swerving," Shane remarked mildly. "Put him out of his misery-and ours." He ignored the dirty look thrown at him. "Still, getting to hear you explain to the good Sheriff just why you were driving like a bat out of hell? Now that was funny. And to think I almost missed it for a rendezvous with Kelly Seaver."

"Ugh." Sarah's lip curled in distaste. At the same time a flush crept up into her face as she remembered how mortified she'd been when her father had to pick her up at the station. He'd been so angry. The visits to the island almost became non-existent because of it. Thankfully, he'd reconsidered.

"Can you go away now?"

"Sure thing." Then he leaned down a little. "But not because you want me to."

Sarah smiled faintly. "Whatever you say, Shane."

"I'm going because I have work to do." He flexed his hands, cracking his neck before he slid his glasses over his eyes.

"Good-bye, Shane," Abby sang as she walked up.

"Was I talking to you?" He shook his head slowly. "Nuh-uh."

Abby handed Sarah her drink, glaring at Shane as he swaggered off towards the marina.

"He's such a creep," Abby grimaced, facing Sarah once again. "Sorry if you've been scarred for life," she said apologetically.

"He's not that bad," Sarah replied as she glanced at his retreating form.

"Ok, then you were obviously talking to a different Shane Pierce that lives on the island," Abby laughed. "Walk with me to Nikki's?"

"Sure. Do you two have plans for tonight?"

"Mayyybe." Abby drew the word out slowly, as if something else were weighing on her mind. Sipping her hot drink she tilted her head, considering. "While we're on the way, why don't you tell me all about how excited you are about becoming an Aunt. "

Sarah smiled brightly.

"Sounds good."

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Thomas Wellington looked down at his phone, eyes narrowing in irritation.

His son-in-law made his eldest daughter happy, he knew this to be true. But Richard Allen was far from a shining star within his real estate company. Case in point, the phone call he'd been dreading. Flipping the cell open he snapped into the receiver.

"I'm here," he answered tersely. "No. I can talk. Just give me a moment. Sweetheart?"

Placing the open phone against his chest to muffle their conversation, Thomas Wellington smiled affectionately at his youngest child.

"Yes, Daddy?" Sarah looked up from where she'd been reading.

"Why don't you head down to the docks. I have to take this call," he gestured to the phone. "I'll only be a minute."

"All right." Sarah gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

Making sure the door was secure behind him, Thomas put the phone back to his ear, a deep frown marring his handsome features.

"What the hell has Richard done now?"

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Sarah was almost to the marina when she heard the yelling. Her steps eased up near a group of locals, also curious about the commotion ahead.

It was then that everything exploded.

If the forced hadn't knocked her down, the frantic rush of people would have. Blinking rapidly, she stared up at the fire mutely. It was everywhere. And there was so much yelling and shouting.

It took a full minute for the more primitive of instincts to kick in and she found herself running away from the heat and smoke like everyone else. She didn't even know how far she'd run until she came to a decrepit old shed.

Without thinking she ran inside, slamming the door behind her. She stood there, heart pounding.

Now what? Why had she run here? Where was here? And what had happened at the marina?

Taking a few deep breaths, Sarah gripped the edges of her green sweater and wet her lips. She couldn't stay. Her father would be worried. He didn't know where she was. And she…and she…

And she what?

Blind panic had completely caused her mind to blank and she'd run off without even stopping to think.

"Snap out of it!" she hissed, closing her eyes tightly to regain her bearings. Her eyes reopened after a few moments and feeling calmer, she made her way towards the door. She was going to head back to the marina and find her father. Sheriff Mills. Shane.

Anyone.

She began to turn the knob, but froze as leaves quietly rustled from the other side.

Sarah didn't know exactly why, but the same instincts that urged her to flee the dockes were now screaming at her to remain silent and still. There was something about the noise, something sneaky, furtive. As if whatever-whoever-was making it didn't want to be heard.

It caused a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, and with painful slowness, Sarah let go of the knob and stepped backwards into the shadows of the shed. Her breath hitched when a branch snapped near the door.

"Go away," she whispered. Her heart began to race when the knob turned with deliberate care from the other side. "Please go away."

"Sarah!"

The knob snapped back into place with an audible click, feet crashing through leaves and brush as the person ran off. Exhaling loudly, Sarah waited only a moment more before bursting out of the shed, screaming when a pair of arms caught her.

"Let go!"

"Hey, Sarah! Sarah! Stop it!" The voice sounded familiar, but it was the tattoo's scrolling down his arms that made her stop fighting. Sinking back into his chest, she couldn't stop the uncontrollable shaking from over taking her as her head buried itself beneath his chin. "It's ok. It's ok. I have you."

"There was someone outside the-"

"I know." Shane swallowed hard. He took a quick look around as he began to move. "Whoever it was ran off. Come on."

Pulling her up a little more roughly than he intended, their feet carried them towards the sound of both people and sirens screaming.

"I don't know where she is, sir. I left her at home like you said-"

"Go find her Jimmy, damnit. Make sure Abby's safe. " The sheriff was barking out orders, his own barely concealed panic rising. Beneath the brim of his hat, a little relief was seen as Jimmy ran off, heading towards his truck.

"Sarah! Shane," Sheriff Mills' shoulders visibly sagged as they appeared.

"What the hell happened here?" Shane's eyes were taking everything in, spirits sinking when he saw the Pride and Joy burning alongside several other boats. Something in him died a little as he watched it collapse into the water.

His boat…

"I don't know how…" the sheriff's voice halted. "I don't know."

He put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Shane, we're all doing what we can right now, and hard as it might be, I need you to get Miss Wellington to the other side of the island right away. Her dad has a boat that's going to take them back to the mainland. "

"'Course he does," Shane muttered bitterly.

"Shane." This time his name came out as a warning. He followed the sheriff's glance, taking in Sarah's soot-covered face, and the tears that had left a path across it.

"Hell." He gripped her elbow tightly, leading her to his truck.

Once they were both strapped in, he stuck the key into the ignition. It turned over quickly, but glancing into the mirrors he couldn't help but pause mid-action.

His boat, his legacy, his God-damned income. It was all going to the bottom of the harbor. And just before he could drive off, the Sheriff roared past him in his own truck, phone to his ear, as if the devil himself were chasing him.

"I'm sorry about your boat, Shane."

Glancing at the bedraggled looking girl, he nodded curtly, shifting gears as he pulled out of the lot with the sound of pealing tires.

"Come on, Sarah. We're getting you off this island."

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She never imagined that she'd hear those words again one day.