Until It Doesn't Hurt | Rafe Cameron

12

On the same night Eleanor and Rafe had planned to leave Kildare Island, John B and Sarah were presumed dead. Washed out to sea during the tropical storm, there was no trace of them left behind. 

Both the Westbrook family and the Camerons were devastated at the loss of Sarah. Eleanor was heartbroken. Sarah wasn't just her boyfriend's little sister, Sarah was her friend first and foremost.

And then there was Sheriff Peterkin's death. John B. Routledge fatally shot and killed her on the tarmac just before Ward Cameron showed up and tried to save her life. And now justice would not be served because John B was gone; dead.

The Westbrook family stood with the Camerons at the funeral of Sheriff Peterkin. Eleanor stood next to Rafe, holding onto his stiff arm and she rested her head on his shoulder. She stood as the connection between the two of the most prominent families on the island.

They decided to put their plans to move away on hold. It wasn't the right time, with everything going on. Their families needed them right now more than they needed to get away.

"Though she has now departed," the minister spoke, standing at a podium near Peterkin's casket, "let us honor her bravery and sacrifice in the line of duty. Through her memory, let is pursue what is just and right. As we commit her body to the ground, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we shall remember to uphold the ideas which she stood for."

Sheriff Peterkin had a proper burial and funeral for a fallen officer. It was beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time, leaving not a dry eye in the cemetery. 

After the funeral, the families gathered at the Westbrook house to discuss what was next for them. Christopher Westbrook took the job as Ward's lawyer moving forward with the case. Despite a witness, Ward, saying that he saw John B shoot Peterkin, there was still to be an investigation. And Eleanor's father was going to represent them moving forward.

Rafe and Eleanor sat at the top of the stairs, hidden from sight, eavesdropping on the conversation taking place downstairs between the adults.

"You don't have to worry about that, my friend,  'cause they got a whole lot of nothing," Christopher told Ward, "We are good."

Eventually, former deputy, now interim Sherrif, Victor Shoupe came by, which sent both Ward and Christopher into a frenzy.

"We both know who did this, Vic!" Ward stated, "And we both know who vandalized Tannyhill."

After the funeral, they discovered the word "murders" spray painted across the wall outside Tannyhill. Rafe immediately went into a spiral demanding that those Pogues were the ones who did it. 

His shouts got him and Eleanor sent away from the kitchen where the adults were drinking wine and talking through everything.

"They're dangerous," Rafe had said.

"You know what this John B did," Ward told Shoupe, "He attacked me. he killed Peterkin. Because of him, my daughter is dead! Alright, these kids, these friends of his, they're part of his sick gang, so I need you to do your job and shut this shit down, Understand?"

"I will talk to them, okay?" Shoupe offered.

"My family is being terrorized. Do you understand?" Ward was yelling now, "We're the victims here, and we're being terrorized. That sound fair to you? Meanwhile, they get to run around, say any goddamn thing they want about me, about my family, about their family."

"We're trying the best we can with what we got," Shoupe combatted.

"You know what we're trying to do?" Christopher interjected.

"What, Chris?" Shoupe asked, getting visibly angry with the men.

"We're all trying to heal," Christopher stated, "We've all lost so much this past week; Sarah and Peterkin. All we're asking is for you to wrap this thing up so that we can move on as a community."

"If we're gonna do it right, it might take longer than you want, okay?" Shoupe spoke.

"Vic, you that that little "interim" you have in front of your sheriff's title there? I want that to go away. This is not how that happens," Ward threatened.

Without another word, Rafe and Eleanor heard footsteps and the front door slam. Shoupe had left the Westbrook home.

"Well, that was... something," Eleanor huffed.

This was tricky. Their families were so interconnected with this case, more so than any other family on the island. Their every move would be surveyed by others.

"Yeah," Rafe drawled.

Eleanor's phone buzzed in her pocket. She slipped it into her hand and tapped on the notification. "Check out this video Scarlet sent me."

She opened the video, the thumbnail was a still of JJ Maybank, and tapped play.

"Can I have everybody's attention, please? I have a little announcement to make," JJ yells while tapping on a glass with a butterknife as one would do to gather the attention of those around them. "My best friend, John B, did not kill Sheriff Peterkin! Rafe Cameron killed and shot the sheriff in cold blood! That's what happened."

Eleanor's stomach dropped and she turned to Rafe, who was white as a ghost.

"I'll kill him," Rafe seethed.

"Why would he say that?" Eleanor asked, dumbfounded at the accusation. Rafe did not kill Peterkin, Eleanor was certain of that.

"Those fucking Pogues, man," Rafe said, "They're trying to ruin my life."

"Should we tell my dad that the Pogues are accusing you?" Eleanor asked, genuinely trying to help. 

Rafe stood from the spot he had been eavesdropping from and headed down the stairs, "I'll take care of it."