'How much more?' I interrupted.
'Not a fortune. Ten or fifteen percent.'
'Hmm. Not enough to ring any alarms, but enough to make a seller grab it before Appleseed comes to its senses.'
'I guess,' she said. 'The other thing is, it's not really Appleseed.'
'Oh?' I said. 'Do tell.'
'Velez says he needs more time to work on it, but it looks as though it's Appleseed's money that's making the purchases, but the title to the land is actually put in the name of a thing called Appleseed Holdings, not Appleseed Baby Foods. It's a whole different company, a partnership with two partners.'
'And the partners are . . . ?'
'That's the good part,' Lydia said. 'Mark Sanderson owns forty percent. The other sixty is in the name of Frank Grice.'
Lydia looked at me for a moment, then laughed. 'Boy,' she said, 'that's an expression I don't see on you very often. I'll have to tell Velez.'
'Son of a bitch,' I said. I dropped the cigarette, crushed it underfoot. 'Are you real busy right now?'
'I could probably make some time. What did you have in mind?'
'How about we go see Mark Sanderson?'
'Sounds lovely.'
We left her car in the condo lot, rode to Appleseed in mine. In the car, Lydia went on. 'Velez says to tell you Sanderson's wife disappeared about four years ago.'
'I knew that. Did Velez find her?'
'No, and he looked. Her credit cards haven't been used since the day she left. Her social security number hasn't either. There were no unusual withdrawals from their joint bank accounts in the couple of months before she left. Since then all the activity has been Sanderson's.' She added, 'She supposedly ran away with some guy, but Velez couldn't find anyone.'
I nodded. 'MacGregor said she had a reputation. He said everyone but Sanderson knew it.' We passed the state college campus, turned onto the spur road to the Appleseed plant. 'Were her credit cards canceled?'
'Lena Sanderson's? They weren't renewed when they expired, but they weren't canceled. She could have gone on using them for a couple of months.'
'Except that would have made her easier to find.'
'She must have really wanted to stay lost.'
'You don't know Sanderson. It's a natural reaction.'
Mark Sanderson didn't keep us waiting long this time. We didn't even have time to sit and enjoy the vegetables.
As soon as the secretary's beautiful voice announced us, the door to Sanderson's office flew wide and Sanderson filled the opening.
'Where is she?' he demanded.
'Ask your partner,' I said, pushing past him into the corner office, where the windows offered two different views of the same sullen sky. Lydia followed me, looked Sanderson over. He shot her one glance and then ignored her.
'What the hell are you talking about?' he barked. 'Where's Ginny? That Antonelli punk, his brother was shot last night. What the hell is going on? Where's my daughter?'
'Why didn't you tell me you were still doing business with Frank Grice?'
He stopped dead, his eyes fixed on me as though I'd suddenly mutated into a form of life he'd never seen before. He looked at Lydia again. 'Who the hell is this?'
'Lydia Chin,' I said. 'Lydia, this is Mark Sanderson.' Lydia put out her hand. Sanderson didn't move. Lydia shrugged. 'Lydia and I are business associates,' I told him. 'Like you and Grice.'
'Smith,' he pushed through his teeth, 'it's none of your fucking business, but if you mean Appleseed Holdings, that's a completely legitimate operation.'
'Yeah,' I said. 'Seems to be, so far. What I really want to know is why you didn't tell me about it.'
'Because it was none of your fucking business!' he said again. 'It has nothing to do with my daughter, who is the only reason I let a man like you into my office at all!'
'How about a man like Grice?'
Sanderson forced the muscles in his jaw to relax. He walked around behind his desk, sat down. 'Appleseed Holdings is a profit-making venture. Sometimes business decisions get you involved with people you’d otherwise rather not be involved with.'
'Profit-making for whom? The money that goes into it is Appleseed's. Yours. But Grice owns a bigger share than you do.'
Sanderson smiled a hard, cold smile. 'For us both.'
'But not yet?'
'No,' his smile widened, then flicked off. 'Not yet.'
