“At what point did the two of you get together, start seeing each other?”

“After a year of exchanging e-mails. We discovered both of us were going to a meeting in the same location at the same time. Orlando. The LPA. That’s when we realized we both have achondroplasia. After Orlando, we began seeing each other. I told you. Three months ago.”

“Why her apartment from the very start?”

“She liked to be in her own place. She’s very neat, obsessively neat and clean.”

“She worried your apartment might be dirty?”

“She worried most places were dirty.”

“Was she obsessive-compulsive? Phobic of germs?”

“When we’d go out somewhere, she’d want both of us to shower when we got back to her place. At first I thought it was about sex, which was fine. Showering with her. Then I realized it was about being clean. I had to be very clean. I used to have long hair, but she made me cut it short because it’s easier to keep clean if it’s short. She said hair collects dirt and bacteria. I was a good sport but said there was one place I was keeping my body hair. Nobody was coming near me down there.”

“Where do you get your hair removal done?”

“A dermatologist on East Seventy-ninth. Laser removal. Other painful things I’ll never bother with again.”

“What about Terri? Did she go to this same dermatologist?”

“She referred me to her. Dr. Elizabeth Stuart. She has a big practice and is well respected. Terri’s been going to her for years.”

Scarpetta wrote down Dr. Stuart’s name and asked about any other doctors or other practitioners Terri might have seen, and Oscar said he didn’t know or he didn’t remember, but he was sure there would be records of that type of information in Terri’s apartment. She was impeccably well organized, he said.

“She never threw anything away that might be important, but everything has its proper place. If I draped my shirt over a chair, she was going to hang it up. I could barely finish eating before the dishes were in the dishwasher. She hated clutter. Hated things out of place. Her pocketbook, her raincoat, her snow boots, whatever it was, she tucked it out of sight even if she planned to use it again five minutes later. I realize that’s not normal.”

“Is her own hair cut short like yours?”

“I keep forgetting you never saw her.”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t.”