Family Secrets A Novel

Eagles Nest, Colorado

As was her custom, Myrna had deliberately kept her visitor waiting for half an hour -- a practice that established hierarchy. And the visitor would have had plenty of time to admire and be intimidated by her office with its sleek décor and the view from a spacious deck that jutted out over a veritable abyss and took one's breath away.

The man was on the deck when she entered the room, his hands on the railing, the wind lifting his longish hair as he took in the breathtaking view of Colorado's Elkhead Mountains. She watched him for a time, imagining the firm, youthful body beneath the well-tailored sport coat, and found herself regretting the vast difference in their ages. Not that she would have tried to seduce him, but a little sexual tension was to a business meeting what seasoning was to food; it made the experience more pleasant.

Of course, there had been a time in her life when a pleasant business encounter sometimes led to other things. It had been years, however, since she'd had a man in her arms and life, and probably she never would again. She'd always assumed that a time would arrive when she stopped having sexual thoughts, but they still came unbidden. In the night, they came. Or sometimes in the presence of an appealing man.

She cleared away such thoughts with a shake of her head and crossed the room to the open French doors. "Mr. Farris?"

He turned and smiled. His teeth were white and perfect. "You have the most incredible home I have ever seen," he said.

She accepted his compliment with a nod, then headed toward her desk with Mr. Farris following. She was still tall and erect and carried herself in a manner that belied her age, but she knew that he saw her as a person made all but genderless by advancing years.

Even if he were willing, she had too much pride.

Once they both were seated on their respective sides of her large, highly polished, and absolutely bare desk, he handed her a thick manila folder.

She placed it in front of her and folded her hands on top of it. "Tell me what's inside."

"Basically I discovered nothing about any family member that would cause insurmountable problems in your son's upcoming gubernatorial campaign," he said with his elbows resting on the arms of his chair, his body leaning slightly forward. "Other than Randall's DUIs, your children and their spouses and your grandchildren have been extremely circumspect in conducting their personal lives."

He waited for her to comment. When she remained silent, he said, "Your son has already acknowledged his DUIs in previous campaigns, and they seem to have been written off by voters as youthful indiscretions. His long-standing second marriage to the daughter of a noted architect is certainly in his favor. And Randall has an impressive military record, has been a reasonably effective congressman during his three terms, and is popular with the media."

Again he paused. When she didn't comment, he drew in his breath and slowly let it out.

She suppressed the smile that was playing with her lips. He was either feeling intimidation or frustration. Or both. Poor baby.

"As for your own background," he said with a bit of a stammer, "it is a bit more problematic. While it's not unheard of for birth records to be destroyed in courthouse fires and for an individual to apply for and receive a new birth certificate based on affidavits from relatives, baptismal and school records, and the like, the only documentation provided when you applied for a new birth certificate was an affidavit signed by two 'cousins' who have no paper trail at all, which could make one wonder if these two individuals ever existed."

He squared his shoulders as though expecting her to refute his statement. When she did not, he continued, "And this most likely fraudulent birth certificate is the only sort of documentation I was able to find on you until your second marriage. In fact, the first two decades of your life are devoid of any verifiable information. This absence of a paper trail is unusual at best, and if I were the suspicious sort, I would wonder if you hadn't created a new identity for yourself in young adulthood. According to the brief bio used by your company, you came from a mining family and were raised in Montana, but it would help if I knew something about your parents and your childhood."

"That was a very difficult time in my life," she said, "and I prefer not to make it public."

He regarded her, his head tilted to one side, as though he was trying to decide how insistent he should be. "Ordinarily," he said, "the media might not take much interest in the widowed mother of a potential candidate for high office. Since you are not the usual candidate's mother, however, there will likely be some snooping. Actually I predict there will be a great deal of snooping."

"It's your job to see that such 'snooping' goes no place," she said.

"Yes, of course." He leaned forward and placed his hands on the desk. "As a diversionary tactic, I suggest we clandestinely hire someone to write an 'unauthorized' biography on your life that will put forth a version of your difficult childhood and young adulthood that you can live with. The book will highlight your courage in overcoming adversity, your dedication to your family, your contributions to the mining industry, your generous support of numerous worthy philanthropies, and your incredible success in building one of the nation's largest family-owned companies from the ground up. However, the biography should also include a few salacious and apparently embarrassing details that in reality only serve to make you more interesting and colorful and make the book more believable but will cause no real damage to you or your family's reputation. You will make a public show of trying -- unsuccessfully, of course -- to stop publication of the book, which guarantees that it will be widely read and be used as a seemingly valid source of information for journalists."

She wanted to tell him no. Up to this point, she had led an exceedingly private life. But ironically the last decades of her life were a lead-up to one very public moment that would be played out in front of the Capitol in Washington, D.C. The governor's chair was but a stepping-stone to the presidency.

"The book is an intriguing idea," she said. "I will read your report and get back to you."

Copyright © 2007 by Judith Henry Wall, Inc.

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Excerpted from Family Secrets by Judith Henry Wall
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.