The Proxy

It was 3 a.m. when the phone rang. Bruss fumbled for it on the nightstand, and Shelly woke up beside him.

"Who could that be?" she asked.

Bruss looked at the caller ID on the phone.

"It's MetroHealth hospital," he said. "Hello?"

A woman on the other end spoke. Her tone was serious and urgent.

"I'm looking for a Patrick Bruss."

"You found him."

"Mr. Bruss, you are listed as Alessandra Kingston's next of kin. She is currently in our E.D. Mr. Bruss. As her next of kin, we need you to come down to make some decisions on her behalf."

"Decisions on her behalf? I don't understand; why can't she make her own decisions?" he asked.

"Mr. Bruss, we need you to get here right away. The detective has been involved in a profoundly serious altercation. She is unconscious and unable to make any decisions," she said. "Do you understand what I am saying, Mr. Bruss?"

"I... I understand. I will be right there."

Bruss felt sick; his heart was beating fast, and his breathing was labored.

Shelly turned on her side table light.

"Baby, what's going on?"

"Allie is down at Metro. She has me listed as her next of kin. They need me down there right now."

"Why are you listed as her next of kin? When not Alex or even Dean. Did you say Metro?" she asked. "Aren't they a level 1 trauma center?"

"Oh my God. You're right, they are," he said, struggling to pull on his sweats. "I don't know why I am listed. Maybe because... I don't know. Jesus H," he said.

"Patrick, you need to calm down. Obviously, she needs you. Breathe! What happened to her?"

"They wouldn't tell me over the phone. All they would say is I am her next of kin, and I need to make decisions on her behalf."

"Like, should she be put on life support kind of decision," she asked wide-eyed.

He tied his shoe. His face had gone white. Shelly was probably right. For example, should she be put on life support for decisions? He kissed her quickly.

"I'll let you know what's going on."

"I think I should go with you?"

"Baby, chances are we won't be able to do much anyway. I will call you," he said.

He grabbed his keys and ran out the door.

The good thing was that there was no traffic at 3 a.m. He went as fast as the car could take him without blowing the engine. His gumball light stuck on the roof of his vehicle was throwing its red light around and around. Bruss didn't see one police shop all the way there. His stress level was intensely high. His phone rang again. It was the central dispatch for Cleveland. He pushed the button on the steering wheel and answered the call.

"Detective Bruss?" the dispatcher asked.

"Yeah, this Bruss, go ahead," he said

"I am calling about Allie Kingston. She was attacked early morning in her home this morning. From What I hear, she really gave the guy a beating. Pulled his arm clear out of the socket."

Bruss smiled. That's my girl, he thought.

"The officers on the scene said she was conscious and talking when they arrived. She had the suspect at gunpoint. She had taken a serious beating herself. Officers said she told them she was fine, then she vomited, and she went unconscious. Crumpled like a piece of paper," she said. "She died."

"WHAT!"

"You didn't let me finish in the RA. She died. I know they were working on her when she pulled into the ambulance bay, but I can't find out anything more, even though I am in law enforcement. They will only talk to family now," she said.

"Who's running the investigation?"

"I knew you were going to ask that. I was told that Sgt. Nagy and Detective Duffy are handling the preliminary investigation."

"Okay, they are good detectives," he said. "Any ID on the suspect?"

"No, none. He left a lot of blood on the scene. But that does not help us right now. He's just John Doe," she said.

He pulled into the emergency department lot. He threw the car into park.

"I'm here. Keep me updated. Tell Nagy and Duffy to do the same."

"Of course, detective. Same on your end."

The fire lane was full of shops—every square inch. It looked like a convoy. There were so many police officers in the waiting area, lobby, and halfway down a hallway—it looked like a police convention. They were in little groups—three here, four over there. A few were in seats with their heads in their hands. They turned and looked at Bruss as he threw the door open.

He immediately went to the nurse's station. A tired-looking woman in pink scrubs was typing on the computer while on the phone. She was visibly annoyed with whoever was on the other end. She looked at Bruss, put one finger up, and rolled her eyes at the conversation on the phone. Finally, 30 long seconds later, she hung up the phone.

"Hi, I'm going to assume you are Mr. Bruss," she said.

"Yes, I got a call about Allie Kingston. I mean Alexsandra Kingston," he said.

"Yes, that was me, Mr. Bruss. I need you to come right down. The condition that Ms. Kingston is in. We need to know what her wishes would be if anything were to happen that would involve her being intubated or put on life support," she said. "Has she spoken to you about any of this?"

"I didn't even know I was listed as her next of kin. As far as we have talked about it, it may have come up at some time in a conversation, but as far as her writing anything down or just coming out and telling me what she would want, I can't say that has ever really been stated outright," he said. "I knew her parents were deceased, but it should be Alex Alvarez or even Dean Carron. They should have been listed as next of kin."

"Mr. Bruss, her records say you are the next of kin, so you are the next of kin."

"How am I supposed to make this kind of decision for her? I don't think I can do this."

"If she put you as next of kin, she knew what she was doing. She knew that whatever you decided to do, it would be the right thing," she said. "I'm going to see if a doctor can talk to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you."

"Of course. We are all praying for her."

"I'm sure she appreciate that."