“I can relate to that,” Daniel said. The sharpness in his voice mellowed as well. “My father was also into all sorts of businesses, some of which were close to being scams. The problem was that they were all failures, meaning he and subsequently my siblings and I became the butt of jokes in the town of Revere, particularly at school, at least those of us who were not part of the ‘in’ crowd, which I surely wasn’t. My father’s nickname was ‘Loser Lowell,’ and unfortunately the epithet had a tendency to trickle down.”

“For me, it was the opposite,” Stephanie said. “We were treated to a kind of deference, which wasn’t pleasant. You know how teenagers like to blend in. Well, it wasn’t possible for me, and I didn’t even know why. I hated it.”

“How come you’ve never told me about any of this?”

“How come you’ve never told me about your family other than the fact that you have eight siblings, none of whom, I might add, I have met? I at least asked you about your family on several occasions.”

“That’s a good point,” Daniel said vaguely. His eyes drifted outside, where a few lonely snowflakes could be seen dancing on the wind gusts. He knew the real answer to Stephanie’s question was that he’d never cared about her family any more than he cared about his own. He cleared his throat and turned back to Stephanie. “Maybe we haven’t talked about our families because we were both embarrassed about our childhoods. Or maybe it’s been a combination of that and our preoccupation with science and founding the company.”

“Perhaps,” Stephanie said without a lot of conviction. She stared out through the front windshield. “It is true that academics have always been my escape. Of course my father never approved, but that only increased my resolve. Hell, he didn’t think I should go college. He thought it was a waste of time and money, saying I was just going to get married and have kids like it was fifty years ago.”

“My father was literally embarrassed that I was good at science. He told everyone that it had to have come from my mother’s side, like it was a genetic disease.”

“What about your brothers and sisters? Was it the same for them?”

“To some degree, because my father was a small enough person to blame his failings on us. You know, sapping the capital he needed to really get started in whatever was the current bright business idea. But my brothers, who were good at sports, fared a bit better, at least back when they were in school, because my father was a sports nut. But getting back to your brother, Tony. Whose idea was it that he invest in CURE, yours or his?” Daniel’s voice regained some of its earlier brusqueness.

“Is this going to become an argument again?”

“Just answer the question!”

“What difference does it make?”

“It was a monumental error in judgment to allow a possible-or probable, as the case may be-mobster to invest in our company.”

“It was a combination of both of us,” Stephanie said. “In contrast with my father, he’s been interested in what I’ve been doing lately, and I’d told him biotechnology was a good place to put some of his money from the restaurants.”

“Wonderful!” Daniel exclaimed sarcastically. “I hope you realize that investors in general don’t like losing money, despite having been adequately warned of the risks in start-up companies. My guess would be that such an attitude would be an understatement for a mobster. Have you ever heard of such inconveniences as smashed patellae?”

“He’s my brother, for Christ’s sake! There’s not going to be any kneecap smashing.”

“Yeah, but I’m not his brother.”

“It’s insulting to even suggest such a thing,” Stephanie snapped. She turned her head to look out her window. Generally she had a reservoir of patience to put up with Daniel’s sarcasm, ego, and antisocial negativity, thanks to the awe she felt about his scientific brilliance, but at the moment and given the morning’s events, it was wearing thin.

“Under the circumstances, I don’t have a lot of interest in hanging around Washington for another night,” Daniel said. “I think we should get our things together, check out, and get on the next shuttle back to Boston.”

“Fine by me,” Stephanie clipped.

Stephanie got out her side of the taxi as Daniel paid the fare. She headed directly into the hotel lobby, only vaguely aware that he was close behind her. She was upset enough to wonder what she’d do when they got back to Boston. In her current state of mind, the idea of returning to Daniel’s Cambridge apartment where she’d been living was not appealing. Daniel’s suggestion that her family was low enough to be capable of physical violence was galling. She wasn’t sure if anyone in her family was involved in loan-sharking or other questionable activities, but she was darn sure no one ever got hurt.

“Dr. D’Agostino, excuse me!” one of the concierges voiced loudly.

Unexpectedly hearing her name called out in the middle of the hotel lobby startled Stephanie enough that she stopped in her tracks. Daniel collided with her, causing him to drop the folder he was carrying.

“Good grief!” Daniel snapped, as he squatted down to retrieve the papers that had wafted out of the folder. A bellman lent a hand. The papers were professionally rendered schematics of HTSR. He’d brought them to the hearing in case it had been appropriate to hand them out to be sure people understood the procedure. Unfortunately, the opportunity hadn’t presented itself.

By the time Daniel had righted himself, Stephanie had returned to his side from the concierge’s desk.

“You could have let me know you were stopping,” Daniel complained.

“Who is Carol Manning?” Stephanie questioned.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea. Why do you ask?”

“You got an urgent message from her.” Stephanie handed over the piece of paper.

Daniel read it rapidly. “I’m supposed to call her. It says it’s an emergency. How can it be an emergency if I don’t even know who it is?”

“What’s the area code?” Stephanie questioned, as she looked over Daniel’s shoulder.

“Two-oh-two!” Daniel said. “Where’s that, do you know?”

“Of course I do! It’s right here in D.C.”

“Washington!” Daniel exclaimed. “Well, that settles it.” He crumpled the note, stepped over to the concierge’s desk, and asked one of them to file it in the circular file.

Stephanie was rooted to the spot where she’d handed Daniel the note. Her mind was churning as she watched Daniel start toward the elevators. Making a sudden decision, she dashed to the desk, took the note from the concierge who still had it clutched in his fist while speaking to another guest, and ran after Daniel.

“I think you should call,” Stephanie said, slightly out of breath as she reached Daniel.

“Oh, really?” Daniel questioned superciliously. “I don’t think so.”

The elevator arrived, and Daniel boarded. Stephanie followed.

“No, I think you should call. I mean, what do you have to lose?”

“A little more of my self-esteem,” Daniel said.

The elevator rose. Daniel’s eyes were glued to the floor indicator. Stephanie’s were glued to Daniel’s. The doors opened. They started down the hall.

“I think I recognized the number’s prefix from having called Senator Ashley Butler’s office last week. I think the prefix was two-two-four, and if it was, then it is a Senate Office Building exchange.”

“All the more reason not to call,” Daniel said. He keyed open the door to their room and entered. Stephanie was right behind him.

While Daniel was removing his coat, Stephanie ducked into the sitting room. At the desk, she smoothed out the note. “It is two-two-four,” she called out to Daniel. “The emergency is underlined. Maybe the old codger changed his mind!”

“That’s about as likely as the moon dropping out of orbit,” Daniel said, joining Stephanie. He looked down at the message. “It is weird. What the hell kind of emergency could it be? Originally I thought it was from the media, but not if it’s a Senate Office Building exchange. You know, I don’t care. Being cooperative with anyone who has anything to do with the U.S. Senate is not high on my priority list at the moment.”