Once we’d sat down, she aimed rusty-brown eyes at us. One hand drummed a memo pad atop the desk; the other clutched the tubes of a stethoscope. More framed paper than free space on the wall. I found hers on the far right. M.D., Stanford. Internship, residency, and fellowship in high-risk pregnancy, UC San Francisco.
Milo said, “Thanks for seeing us, Doctor.”
“I’m really pretty busy.”
“Then special thanks.”
“The police about Rick? Has he done something?” Ellen Cerillos plucked at a white lapel.
“Doctor, I’m sorry to have to tell you this but Mr. Gurnsey’s deceased.”
Cerillos’s mouth dropped open. Smallish, misaligned teeth. The lack of childhood dental privilege said maybe a poor girl who’d worked her way up. “I don’t understand—deceased? How?”
“I’m afraid he was the victim of a homicide.”
“Oh, my God.” Cerillos sank back in the enormous chair.
Milo said, “You asked if he’d done something. What came to mind?”
“Nothing. It’s just…if the police were here…I mean I didn’t assume anything had happened to him.” Both hands took hold of the stethoscope.
“How well did you know Rick?”
A rosy flush climbed up Cerillos’s neck, shooting from the hollow above the center of her collarbone to a small chin. “We dated. A couple of times. How’d you connect me—oh, his phone?”
Same deduction Joan Blunt had made. The cellular age.
Milo said, “Yes, Doctor.”
“This is unbelievable. I’ve never known anyone before who was—Are you here because you think I can help you in some way? I’m sure I can’t.”
“You and Rick dated a couple of times. Literally, as in two?”
“Maybe three,” said Ellen Cerillos. “Four. That’s it. Four.” The same number of calls between her and Gurnsey.
“Did you stop because of problems?”
The flush took off again, commandeering Cerillos’s entire face. “I didn’t stop, he did. As in see you soon then not calling anymore. I was surprised, there didn’t seem to be problems. At least as far as I could tell.” She tugged at a sprig of red hair. “Talking about my social life with anyone is embarrassing, let alone the police.”
“We’re at the beginning of the investigation, Doctor. If you could just bear with us.” Cerillos glanced at a desk clock backed by a pharmaceutical company’s label. “A few more minutes, I’ve got a waiting room full of patients.”
“We’ll do our best. So four dates, then he stopped calling. Kinda rude.”
“I thought it was. I decided I wasn’t going to call him. Then I relented. For closure, you know? You wonder. I reached him at work, he didn’t sound surprised that I was asking.”
I said, “As if he was used to it.”
“Exactly. As if that was his pattern. So I said to myself, Okay, Ellie, you’ve been played. And proceeded to forget about him. It wasn’t that difficult, there’d been nothing emotional, just…” The blush intensified. “He was just a player. What surprised me is he’d never come across like one. He knew how to act romantic. Emphasis on act. Or I was just gullible.”
“Did he offer you any explanation?”
“He apologized, told me I was a great girl but he needed to move on. Which I took to mean another woman.”
“Did he ever mention other women?”
“Never,” said Cerillos. “Some guys do that, it’s moronic, but Rick never did. Are you saying he mistreated someone and they took it out on him?”
Milo said, “I wish we knew enough to theorize, Dr. Cerillos.”
“But I’m not the only woman you’re talking to.”
“You’re not. So he could come across romantic.”
“Looking back, he was obviously following a routine. Pretending to be interested. The whole medical thing, he kept telling me how smart I was. Smarter than him, he hoped that wouldn’t be an issue.” She smiled. “I suppose it might’ve been had it lasted.”
I said, “How’d the two of you meet?”
The smile dropped like a dry leaf. “Must I get into that? This feels invasive.”
Milo said, “Sorry about that. It’s just that Rick was killed pretty brutally and we haven’t made much progress.”
She winced. “Brutally. My God, don’t even tell me.”
“The point is, Doctor, anything we can learn about Rick—his habits, his approach to life—”
“His approach was obviously hooking up with gullible females.”
“How’d you meet?”
Her small frame shifted forward. “At a restaurant. The Proud Rooster, it’s in Brentwood, they have a cocktail lounge where you can get a light dinner. I live nearby, had been there a couple of times. That particular night, I’d had a tough day. On call for someone else’s patient, fifteen-hour delivery and then the baby ended up being born with a defect that hadn’t been picked up on screening. I drove straight from the hospital to the Rooster, ordered a sandwich and some wine, and tried to decompress. Not at the bar, they have tables, I don’t sit at bars.”
Milo said, “Why’s that?”
Ellen Cerillos said, “It’s been my experience that men who spend extended time at the bar can be less than…appropriate.”
I said, “Rick was also at a table.”
She nodded. “Two tables away, also by himself. I didn’t see him at first, in between us a couple. But when they left Rick and I had a clear view of each other. He didn’t notice me at first, then he did and smiled. Friendly, not gross. I thought he was cute. More than cute, he’s—was a solidly good-looking guy, obviously took care of himself. We exchanged a few more looks and then he went to the bar and bought two drinks, one for me, one for him. I said sure, sit down.”
She looked to the side. “Am I the first on his call list you’re talking to?”
“Why would that be important, Doctor?”
“I wouldn’t want to think that you’re prioritizing me. There’s absolutely no reason to do that.”
“No, there’ve been others.”
“A whole bunch, I’d imagine.” Cerillos frowned and pushed the stethoscope to the side. “I need to cut this short. I’m just out of my fellowship and have a ton of student debt. Getting this job was a great deal, I can’t risk having it jeopardized.”