"Much."

"Good. If you need something warmer, don't hesitate to say so. I have a huge supply of sweaters in the downstairs closet."

We sipped wine in silence while I tried to decide how and where to begin. "I appreciate your taking the time to talk to me."

She smiled faintly. "I considered hiring a detective myself half a dozen times, but I didn't want to undermine the police. I have every confidence in the job they're doing. Apparently, Fiona doesn't."

"She likes the idea of someone devoted solely to the family's interests. The police have other cases requiring their more immediate attention." I paused. "I just want to be clear that any comments you care to make will be safe with me. If you have relevant information, I'll report it to her, but nothing else gets passed on. You can be as candid as you like."

"Thank you. I was wondering about that."

"I'm assuming there's no love lost."

"Hardly. Fiona's done everything in her power to make my life hell on earth." Her face was angular, mouth wide. Her eyes were gray, her brows pale, her lashes thick and black. Aside from mascara, she seemed to wear little or no makeup. I could tell she'd had her eyes done and probably her nose as well. In fact, just about everything I was looking at had been augmented or improved by some merry band of surgeons working on her, piece by piece. Crystal's smile was brief. Look. I know she's busy painting a picture of herself as the victim in all of this, betrayed and put-upon. The truth is, she never gave Dow a thing. It was all take, take, take. Dow reached a point where he had nothing left. Poor guy. When I think of the hours he worked, all the sacrifices he made for them, and in exchange for what? For years, the three of them have stood around with their hands out. Fiona in particular. She was always coming up with some new harebrained scheme, her current business venture being one. Interior design? Who's she trying to kid? She's a Horton Ravine matron spending someone else's money and suddenly, she's talking about her talent and her 'eye' for design. She only has one client – some friend of hers named Dana..."

"She's married to one of Dow's business associates?"

"Joel Glazer, that's right. How do you know him?"

"I don't. I know her, or I did back when she was married to someone else."

"She couldn't be too bright. Fiona's milking her for everything she's worth."

"What about Dow's daughters? What's your relationship to them?"

Crystal shrugged that one off. "They're all right. They don't know the half of what goes on. They probably hate me, but at least they're too polite to say so. They're usually busy sucking up to their dad. I'm sure they're worried he'll die and leave all his money to Griffith and me, which I can understand. I'd worry about the same thing if I were in their shoes."