NINE
Funeral
The funeral was small, but Harper hadn’t really expected it to be any different. Bernie McAllister had planned it himself, long before he died, and he was a simple man, so it made sense that his final wishes would be simple.
After Brian had found out about Bernie’s death, he’d actually called the funeral home to set up something, only to discover that everything had been prepaid. According to the funeral director, Bernie had taken care of it all shortly after his wife died some fifty years ago.
As far as Harper knew, the only family Bernie had was one sister, and she lived in England, if she was even still alive. Bernie had spoken very little of his family, only mentioning his long-deceased wife on occasion.
The service was at the funeral home. Bernie had declined to have a wake, and the service wasn’t very well attended. Bernie had been an old man who kept to himself, and many of his friends had already passed away.
Most of the people there were his former coworkers. Bernie had worked out at the docks for years, long before Harper’s father had started, and according to Brian, Bernie had been very well liked down there.
The poor attendance was probably more a result of it being a Friday afternoon, when it was hard for people to get time off. Brian’s foreman was pretty strict, and it had been a bit of a struggle for him to take the time, but Brian refused to miss the funeral.
Despite the solemnity of the occasion, Brian actually looked better than he had in days. He’d shaved today, and the dark suit he wore looked good on him, even if he looked uncomfortable in it. He always seemed ill at ease in anything other than jeans, but Harper thought her father cleaned up rather well.
Before the funeral got fully under way, people were milling around, speaking to one another in hushed tones. This was the time when they could pay their final respects to Bernie.
Bernie had a closed coffin, and Harper knew why. As hard as she tried to remember the wonderful, warm man he’d been, when she thought of him, the only image that came to her mind was the final one she had of him: his body torn open as he lay bleeding on the island he’d loved so much.
Harper had gone to the front of the room with her father, joining him as he said good-bye to the old man. Brian put his hand on the smooth wood of the coffin, awkwardly rubbing it for a minute before lowering his hand.
“I wish we’d spent more time with him these last few years,” Brian said. He wasn’t crying, at least not yet, but he sniffled and his voice was thick.
“Me, too,” Harper agreed.
Brian shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “Gemma should be here.”
“Yeah. She should.”
Harper had been hoping he wouldn’t bring up Gemma today, but he was right. Gemma should’ve been here.
She didn’t know if Gemma even knew that Bernie was dead. Gemma had been out on the island, but that didn’t mean she’d seen him.
Then a new thought, a horrible, dirty one, wormed itself into her brain. Maybe Gemma had had something to do with Bernie’s death.
As soon as she thought it, Harper dismissed the idea. There was no way her sister would have anything to do with hurting anybody, let alone someone she cared about like Bernie.
But then again, Harper had seen firsthand what the sirens had been able to do, not just to Bernie but to Luke Benfield and the other boys they’d killed. The sirens were evil, so it wasn’t unreasonable to think that Gemma could act monstrous, too.
The service was about to start, so Brian and Harper took their seats. It was a small room in the back of the funeral home, filled with thirty or so folding chairs, and most of them were empty. Since they seemed to be the closest to Bernie during his last years, Brian and Harper sat in the front row.
The pastor gave his brief sermon, then invited people up to say a few words. Harper didn’t think that her dad had planned on saying anything, but when nobody else got up, Brian rose and stood in front of the casket.
“Um, I’m Brian Fisher,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Most of you know me from working out at the docks, and I suppose that’s how you knew Bernie, too.”
Brian kept his eyes down when he spoke, and Harper knew it was because he didn’t want anyone to see the tears pooling in them. When he glanced up at her, she smiled reassuringly, and that seemed to embolden him a bit.
“I’ve known Bernie for over twenty years.” He gestured to the coffin behind him. “He was a hard worker and hardly missed a day in all the time we worked together. He took me under his wing, and outside of work he was a good friend.
“When my wife—” His voice caught in his throat, and he paused a moment to collect himself. “He, um, he took care of my girls when I couldn’t, and for that I will be forever grateful. I don’t know what would’ve happened to my family if it hadn’t been for Bernie.”
Tears filled Harper’s eyes as she listened to her father talk.
“I had the pleasure of seeing him a few days ago,” Brian went on. “And he was as spry and happy as ever. He still had so much life in him.” He let out a long breath, then turned to the coffin. “At least you get to be with your wife now, Bernie. I know you’ve been waiting a long time to see her.”
He looked back at the pastor awkwardly. “I guess that’s all I have to say. Thank you.”
The pastor thanked him as Brian hurried to his seat. He exhaled deeply as he collapsed next to Harper. She looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder.
“That was very sweet, Dad,” she told him. “Bernie would’ve liked that.”
The service finished up shortly afterward. The pastor asked people to come out to the cemetery for the burial if they liked, but most of the attendees seemed to be leaving.
Brian and Harper got up with the intention of heading out to their car when a man in a gray suit approached them. He looked familiar, but everybody in Capri looked familiar. The town wasn’t that big, so even if Harper didn’t personally know certain people, she’d probably seen them around.
“You’re Brian Fisher?” the man asked.
“That’s right,” Brian said cautiously.
“I’m Dean Stanton, Bernie’s lawyer.” The man stuck out his hand, but Brian was slow to shake it.
“Bernie had a lawyer?” Brian sounded genuinely surprised. “What did Bernie need a lawyer for?”
“I handled his will and his estate,” Dean said. “And I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you.”
“What for?” Harper asked, inserting herself in the conversation.
“He’s named you, Brian, as his beneficiary,” Dean said. “He didn’t have much in the way of life insurance. What he did have only covers what he owed on the island, but at least now you get the property free and clear.”
“What?” Brian shook his head, not understanding. “Property?”
“Yes, he’s left everything to you,” Dean explained. “The island and all of its contents, including the cabin, the boathouse, and the boat.”
“He left me the island?” Brian appeared dumbfounded, and he exchanged a confused glance with Harper. “He never told me that.”
“Well, he did,” Dean said. “I’ll need to have you come down to sign some papers.
“Here’s my card,” Dean said as he handed it to Brian. “Give me a call, and we’ll set something up. But right now I’ll let you get back to the funeral. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Brian murmured, sounding distracted and dazed.
The funeral home director was wheeling the casket out the back doors so they could load it into the hearse, and Brian turned back to watch Bernie’s departure as Dean walked away.
“We should get going if we want to be in the procession,” Harper said.
Brian nodded and shoved the lawyer’s business card in his back pocket.
Neither of them said anything about Bernie’s will as they walked out to Brian’s truck. In fact, neither of them said anything at all as they followed the hearse out to the cemetery. They were the only car in the procession, and other than the pastor, they were the only people who watched Bernie’s coffin be lowered into the ground.
Harper was shocked that Bernie had left them the island, and she assumed her father felt the same way. But it did make sense, since he had no real family here, and Brian was one of his closest friends.
That also made her feel guilty, when she realized how little she’d seen Bernie lately. Before they went out to his island this past weekend, it had probably been months since they’d visited him.
Harper didn’t want to see them pour the dirt onto his coffin, so she turned around to head back to the truck. As she did, she spotted Daniel standing several feet away, leaning against a bald cypress tree.
Harper walked over to Daniel, but her father lingered behind a few minutes. She wasn’t sure if Brian was paying his final respects to Bernie or giving her a moment alone with Daniel.
“What are you doing here?” Harper asked.
“I read about his funeral in the paper,” Daniel said. “I thought I’d come check it out.”
“You seem a little underdressed for a funeral.”
Daniel glanced down at his outfit. He wore a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up over a faded Led Zeppelin T-shirt, and his jeans had a hole in the knee.
“At least I put a shirt on,” Daniel teased. Harper had once commented on the fact that he never wore a shirt, or so it seemed whenever she saw him on his boat.
“Hello again, Daniel,” Brian said, walking up behind Harper.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Fisher.” Daniel stepped away from the tree and held out his hand.
Brian shook it quickly and nodded. “Thanks,” he said. “Did you know Bernie well?”
“No, not really.” Daniel shook his head. “But I knew that Harper was close to him, so I wanted to see how she was holding up and offer my condolences.”
“That’s very thoughtful.” Brian eyed him, as if he weren’t quite sure what to make of Daniel, then turned his attention to Harper. “I really hate to do this, but I have to get back to work.”
“I can give her a ride,” Daniel offered. “If you need to get going.”
Brian’s eyes flitted over to Daniel before looking to Harper to see what she wanted to do. Her father would just be going home to change for work and then leaving right away, so it wasn’t as if he needed her to go with him. And she wasn’t really looking forward to spending another day alone in the house.
“You go ahead, Dad,” Harper said. “Daniel can take me home.”
Her father hesitated before nodding. “Okay. I’ll see you later, then.” He leaned over and kissed Harper quickly on the temple before walking away.
“So…” Harper said once her father had left. “Do you often peruse the obituaries for funerals?”
“No.” Daniel stepped away, walking among the headstones, and Harper fell in step with him. “I’ve actually been checking the paper a lot for any info on Gemma.”
“Oh, yeah,” Harper said. “I’ve been doing the same thing.”
“So you haven’t heard anything from her yet?” Daniel asked, watching Harper as she spoke.
“No. Alex has gotten a couple e-mails, but they’ve been false leads so far.” She sighed. “I have no idea where she is. And I don’t know what I’ll do if she never comes home.”
“I hate to break it to you, but … you’ll live,” Daniel said solemnly.
“Why do you make that sound like bad news?”
“Because I’m under the impression that you want to curl up and die,” he said. “Or at least that’s what you think you’re supposed to do if something happens to your sister. But the hard truth is that you won’t. Life will move on, and you’re strong and smart, so you’ll move on with it.”
Harper shook her head. “I can’t imagine that. I can’t ever give up on her.”
“Nobody’s asking you to give up,” Daniel said. “I’m just suggesting that you keep things in perspective.”
“How so?” Harper asked.
Daniel had stopped walking, so she stopped and looked up at him. The sun was shining brightly above them, and the day felt far too lovely for a funeral. He squinted in the light, then gestured to a headstone behind Harper.
“That’s my brother John’s grave,” he said.
Daniel had told her about the accident he’d been in with his brother five years before. John had died, and Daniel had been left with scars covering his back and a few on his head, hidden by his hair.
“I’m sorry,” Harper said.
“I visit him from time to time.” Daniel stared down at the headstone, sounding uncharacteristically solemn. “I loved him a lot. But he’s still dead, and I’m still here.” He looked up at Harper, his eyes resting on her. “And so are you.”
“I know.” She smiled wanly at him. “And I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
“Good.” He smiled at that. “Now come on. It’s too nice out to spend the day at a cemetery. Let’s get out of here.”