Howard gave him a strange look. "Do you always visit the relatives of accident victims on your personal time?"
Len shot Howard a warning look. "When I know them."
Lisa stared at him, fragments of the night before slowly fitting together like a jigsaw puzzle. "Where are they?" The entire scene was surreal.
Howard leaned over her. "Lisa, we need to get some information . . ."
"Howard!" Connie stood up from a chair by the wall. "At least wait until the doctor sees her."
Lisa struggled to sit up. "What information?"
Howard hesitated and shot a questioning glance at Connie, who shrugged and turned away.
"Funeral plans," he said uncertainly. "Do you know what they would want?"
Funeral? The facts drifted in slowly, as if attending a dreaded meeting. Fortunately, her mind was on auto-pilot. It was something she had been told often, but never expected to be asked. "It's in the freezer, in a plastic bag wrapped with foil."
"Good, and the keys to the house?" He sounded relieved.
"I've got her purse over here," Connie said, holding up a shiny red purse.
Howard looked dubious. "Could you get them out?"
Connie handed the purse to Lisa, who immediately found her house keys. "Here they are." She handed them to Howard, who watched her face with a puzzled expression. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Lisa dropped back to the bed. "Of course I'm not alright," she answered with an irritated edge to her voice. "How would you feel if . . ." She sighed and ran fingers through her tangled hair. "My head hurts."
Howard turned and headed for the door, indicating for Quint to follow.
Quint hesitated a moment, watching Lisa with an uncertain expression. Finally he followed Howard. "I'm off duty, you know." Anything else they said faded down the hall after them.
Connie turned around. "I'm sorry. Howard insisted this had to be done right now."
Lisa rolled her face away from the bright window. "He knows best."