Pixie tried to slam the door, but with a baby in her arms it was impossible to stop the two men from forcing their way into her home. She pulled Petal tightly against her chest. Obviously Arnie was there for her, but she couldn’t understand why Sam was. How did the two men even know each other? Was he really so concerned by her ability to distract Dred that he would go to these kind of lengths to get her out of the way?
Arnie stared at her, aggression seeping from him like a dense fog. He lurked in the entrance hall to the condo, never straying more than a foot or two away from the door, blocking her exit. Pixie tried to think of the best place to go. There was no way she could make it to the bathroom where she could lock herself in. Getting too close to the balcony doors didn’t seem like a smart idea either. She stepped toward the kitchen, hoping the marble island would put some space between them.
“Why are you here?” she asked, suddenly aware that she’d never hung up the phone on Dred’s voice mail. She placed the phone on the counter, hoping it would capture more of the conversation.
“I offered you a chance to pay up, Sarah-Jane,” Arnie said, taking a few steps toward her.
Petal started to whimper, and Pixie tried to relax her grip a little. She took a moment to look toward Sam, who was watching the exchange curiously.
“I gave you all I had,” she lied, praying desperately that her decision to call Arnie’s bluff wasn’t going to cause Dred’s daughter to come to any harm.
Arnie looked around the living room. “Maybe. But then I look around this place and I see you didn’t give me everything. So I decided to get my money another way.”
Pixie shook her head in disbelief. She needed to focus on keeping Petal safe and getting them both out of there. Arnie either didn’t know Brewster was alive, or he didn’t know she knew Brewster was alive. There would be no need to keep up the pretense otherwise. For now, she’d keep that information to herself. “Take the photograph to the police. I don’t care anymore. I’m not going to steal money from my friends, and I won’t let you extort them.”
“None of that matters now,” Arnie growled. “Sam and I came to a new arrangement.”
“What kind of arrangement?” Her entire body shook, and her heart raced so badly she feared she’d pass out.
“Arnie,” Sam warned, stepping around the other side of her. They were caging her in. “That’s enough.”
“No. It’s not enough. What’s happening? How do you know each other?” Pixie asked, hating the way her voice trembled with fear. “You have an arrangement?” She looked quickly between the two of them.
“Yes,” Sam admitted. “You’re going with Arnie, and I’m staying here with Petal. Give her to me.”
Pixie backed away. “No. Like hell I will. Please . . . she’s just a baby. Don’t hurt her.”
“You need to hand her over,” Arnie said, stepping toward her.
“Fuck you, Arnie. You’ll get Petal over my dead body.”
Arnie reached around his back, and retrieved a gun that he pointed straight at her. “That can be arranged, Sarah-Jane.”
“Please,” Pixie begged. She was outnumbered. And very much alone. “I was just on the phone with Dred. He’s on his way home,” she said, wishing she could control the trembling in her lip.
“He isn’t,” Sam replied, “because I just checked in with their producer, and they’re locked up in the recording booth and plan to be there all day.”
Pixie thought about the message she’d been in the middle of leaving. Was it still recording? Would it cut off after a certain amount of time? Discreetly, she looked over to her phone, but the screen was dark. All she could do was pray Dred listened to his messages sooner rather than later. Hopefully it had recorded enough information to help Dred find them, because she was all out of ideas, except kicking and screaming like hell as they attempted to remove her from the apartment.
She looked around the kitchen, damning the ultramodern interior. There wasn’t a single item on display, except the kettle. Knowing Sam was looking to get Petal from her, she wasn’t prepared to put her down while she figured out a way to fight, and couldn’t afford to take the risk of Petal getting hurt.
The first step was to keep them talking. Hopefully it would give Dred more time to see he missed her call. “Your agreement? Tell me, Sam. Don’t you think Dred will be suspicious when he comes home to find you here, but not me?”
“Not when he finds these,” Arnie said, pulling a small bag of white powder, a lighter, a syringe, and a small spoon from his jacket pocket. “You see, your son-of-a-junkie lover won’t do shit once he thinks you’re using again.”
“Wait, how do you . . .”
“We need to get on with this,” Sam said, wiping his forehead.
Confusion crawled over her, as nothing made sense. “Wait, Sam. You told Arnie about Dred’s mom?”