Chapter 4
"Sam, what's this about?" Freddie asked for the billionth time.
"I told you." she answered calmly, intently staring at the road in front of her.
"You can't honestly expect me to believe that-" He started, cut off by Sam putting her hand up.
"Its what happened, I just know it Freddie, she's out there somewhere waiting for us." Sam claimed, turning the car into an empty parking lot.
"Where are we? SAM!" he called, as his wife raced ahead of him. They turned corner after corner, down endless hallways until she stopped suddenly almost making Freddie ram into her.
"In here." she said, knocking harshly on the door.
"Come in." a rough voice called, followed by a loud crash. "FOR THE LOVE OF-" the voice cried. Sam opened the door, and pulled Freddie inside.
He pulled his arm away from Sam's harsh grip. Absently rubbing his arm, Freddie looked around. they seemed to be in a small office space crammed with books, papers, and ancient piles of unopened mail. suddenly something, or rather someone crashed into him, knocking him off of his feet and into the wall.
"Geez, sorry fella." the man apologized, standing and holding his hand out to Freddie.
"I'm good." Freddie stated pulling himself off the dirty brown carpet.
The man walked walked to the other side of the room, and bent over a large box.
"Sam!" Freddie exclaimed under his breath. "Why are we here?" he asked. the man stood up abruptly.
"Pardon me, I seemed to leave my manners in my other trousers." the man said,
reaching out his hand. "My name is Oliver B. Cambridge. Sam here tells me you to are in need of my," he lowered his voice and leaned in "Assistance."
"Yes sir, I was told you could help us." Sam said.
"Help with what exactly?" Freddie asked, looking at the man suspiciously
Oliver Cambridge was defiantly short, probably four 1/2 possibly five feet, shorter than both Freddie and Sam. He was dressed in a suit that could have been pulled from an ancient history book. His hair, was gray and stuck out on the top but was smoothed flat around the sides. He was almost egg shaped, had a thick handle bar mustache that hid his mouth almost completely
"You really think you can help us find our baby?" Sam asked, sitting directly in front of the man, and leaned over his desk.
"Sam, we know where are baby is he can't-" She silenced him.
"If we knew where she was, we wouldn't be here." She said, not looking away from Mr. Cambridge's face. "Can you tell us what you know?" Sam continued, intent on prying every drop of information out of the man.
"I'm afraid its not much, but here's what we know," He started. "Alright, five years ago an unnamed women registered as a nurse at the same hospital where you two last seen your daughter. The women is said to have dark hair, and dark eyes. It is also known that this women was there for the delivery of your baby. She was the one to pronounce the baby's death."
"What does this have to do with anything? What does this even have to do with us?" Freddie questioned, only to receive a sharp punch in the shoulder from his wife.
"Sorry sir, please continue." Sam said, shooting a harsh glare at Freddie.
"Yes. Well, The women was supposedly seen leaving the hospital that same day with a newborn. To be specific, a BLOND newborn." He sat back and let it sink in, before he continued. "Only a few days later, the women quite her job over the phone. Nobody has had record of this women since." He finished.
"Is that all you know?" Sam asked, knowing that she will need more information to find answers. It would probably take more information just to convince Freddie that she's not crazy.
suddenly, a realization hit Sam. She still hadn't told Freddie about- she groaned out load. this case was defiantly not going to be solved easily.