Letter from a Stranger Read Online Free PDF

great father.”
    “That he is, Tita. By the way, I’m thinking of asking Joanne to dinner. I’m assuming there’s enough food.”
    “Oh yes. I made three cottage pies, and Pearl has a ham baking, and there’ll be lots of vegetables. Plenty for everyone.” She grinned. “An army.”
    Justine smiled. “As usual! I’ll call Joanne now, and I’ll let you know if she’s coming later.”
    “No problema,” Tita answered and went down the gallery, calling to Daisy, “See you soon, honeybunny.”
    Justine continued to watch her brother, wondering if he would be able to come with her to Istanbul. He wanted to desperately, she knew that; on the other hand, he was still working on a huge architectural project. His new boutique hotel in Battery Park was almost finished, and she was aware that the final and rather complicated installations would be taking place in the next couple of weeks. She just wasn’t sure he could break free, and anyway she was not afraid to go alone. Justine was accustomed to traveling the world for her documentary filming, but Richard was overly protective of her, and he wouldn’t want her to go by herself; also, he was as anxious to find the truth as she was.
    Richard finally stopped turning and put Daisy down. He held her close to his legs, stroking her hair, asking, “You’re not dizzy, are you, bunnykins?”
    “No, I’m not, Dad, I’m good.”
    He looked across at his sister, standing in the door of his studio, and said, “About our friend … I think I would prefer it if you just said you might be planning to shoot a documentary in Turkey, and leave it at that.”
    “Agreed. It’s better to stay … cool on this matter, don’t you think?”
    He nodded, and releasing Daisy, he walked over to Justine and said, sotto voce, “That letter is lethal, and our lives will never be the same again.”
    “I know,” she responded, staring into those blue eyes remarkably like her own. “A lot of lives are going to be changed.”

 
    Four
    Once Richard had left with Daisy, Justine walked slowly down the gallery, dialing her closest friend, Joanne Brandon. There was no answer; she left a message and headed into her own glass studio.
    Years ago, this had been her father’s office, although its design was totally different today. The huge plate-glass windows Richard had installed gave it spaciousness, wonderful clear daylight, and spectacular views of the property.
    Her desk was a replica of Richard’s, also of his design, a slab of heavy glass on steel sawhorses. Hers was a bit more personalized than his, with several photographs in silver frames, mementos of some of her trips abroad, a Tiffany carriage clock Joanne had given her for her twenty-first, and a silver hunting cup filled with matching pens, another sign of Justine’s tidiness and perfectionism. Behind her, a glass console table held her computer and keyboard. She turned it on, and a few minutes later, when she glanced behind her, she saw there were no messages.
    Sitting back in her chair, she let her thoughts wander, waiting for Joanne to call back. They had been friends since childhood; Joanne’s mother had owned a house lower down on Indian Ridge Hill, and they had grown up together. Joanne had inherited the house, and their friendship had continued into adulthood. Joanne’s mother had been a widow, and Justine’s father had gone out of his way to give Joanne a great deal of affection and later good advice after her mother had died.
    Tony Nolan . He had been struck down in his prime by a fatal heart attack, and he hadn’t even known he had a heart problem … twelve years ago. Justine was well aware that it was because of him that she and her twin had turned out so well. He was the one who had brought them up, given them a regime, a routine in their lives, instilling in them duty, responsibility, and a genuine work ethic.
    He had shown them a great deal of love, devoted himself to them, and, as a consequence, she and