Chapter 2

"First thing we need to do is find one of those baby outfitter stores," Michael said as he and Sam left Fiona's apartment. "Then we go in, just get the bare-bones stuff, and we're out."

"I like it. In and out, works for me." He and Michael glanced at each other, wondering what they'd gotten themselves into. But maybe, if they looked at it like a commando raid, it wouldn't be so bad. As long as they had the intel they needed, this would be a piece of cake because they only had to worry about shoppers. Nobody with guns trying to mow them down.

They walked into the super-sized baby outfitter store and suffered immediate visual overload. No matter where they looked, they saw baby furniture, strollers, high chairs, cribs, clothes, toys, diapers, and all sorts of things stacked from the floor to a very high ceiling. Just about every aisle had at least one mother and child pair or mother and children populating it, and not a single man. They felt as if they'd just encroached upon enemy territory, but no one looked twice at them.

Sam found a kiosk with a touch screen computer near the entrance. Stacks of brochures and shopping lists compartmentalized by ages were tucked into a rack beside it. "Hey Mike, check this out." He picked up one of the lists and showed it to him. "Right there, everything we need."

"We need all of this?" Michael's finger slid down the sheet of paper. "This'll cost a fortune!"

"Well, maybe we can skip some of it." He pulled a pen from the kiosk emblazoned with the store's name and studied the list. "We can avoid all this furniture and just improvise. Car seat, need it. Diapers, bottles, diaper bag, need 'em." He quickly scanned the list, circling items as he went down.

"And how do you know that's correct? You don't have any kids, Sam. You've never done this before."

"No, but...well...I dated a woman once who had a toddler. That was a long time ago, but I still kind of remember what it was like having him around."

Michael sighed and shook his head as he took another copy of the sheet. Finding a saleswoman nearby, he approached her wearing a smile. "Hi, maybe you can help us. We need to know what on this list we absolutely need for a baby."

"Okay," she said and gave Michael a friendly smile. "Is this your first child?"

"Oh, no no no, this isn't for mine. It's uh...it's..."

"Oh, then is it for yours, sir?" She glanced at Sam, and he shook his head.

"Long story." This whole thing was crazy and so overwhelming, it took all Michael's training to keep his cool. "Let's just say we have temporary custody of a baby about three to six months old. What would we definitely need to take care of her?"

The clerk continued to smile at them, but they sensed that once they were out of her sight, she would laugh herself silly. "No problem. Here, let me circle the things you shouldn't be without." She quickly ran down the list and marked half of the things on it. "I would also recommend some of these." She put brackets on her recommendations, marking three-quarters of the items. "There you go! If you need anything else, just let me know. My name is Linda, I'm the manager."

"Thank you, Linda." Michael took the list from her, skimmed it, and noticed that she circled more things than Sam did. He turned to his friend. "We better get a cart."

"I'm on it!"

Michael noticed that the carts were not only bigger, but deeper than any he'd ever navigated around a store. Not even a home improvement store's could compare. Sam kept the list, compared it to his, and between the two of them they decided to stick with Sam's list, with a few exceptions. Not knowing where things were, they walked up and down each aisle searching for the circled items. As he put each one into the cart, Sam checked it off and wrote the price down next to the item.

"Preparing for the sticker shock?" Michael asked wryly as he noted the numbers all over the sheet.

"Yeah. How much cash did you bring?"

Michael took another glance at the list. "I think I'll have enough."

"I've got a couple hundred on me," Sam spoke softly. "We should have asked Fi to chip in before we left."

"Do you still have that credit card the last lady friend gave you?"

"Yeah, but the last time I tried it, it was declined, so I just keep it in my wallet for defeating an easy lock."

Michael shook his head. "Never mind. Just keep writing down those figures and if we don't have enough, we'll just have to not buy some stuff." They turned in to the next aisle and he stopped the cart, staring down the length of it. "Okay, here's the most important thing we need: diapers."

"Don't these things come in sizes?" Sam took a step forward and examined the first package that caught his eye. "Ah, they're sized by age and weight. Only we don't know how old she is or how much she weighs. This could be tough."

"Let's just find the cheapest ones first, then figure out the rest," Michael replied, gearing himself up for the challenge. He pushed the cart to the end of the aisle, scanning the prices on the shelves, until he found the lowest priced diapers. There he also found a woman with a baby in a carrier strapped to her front. He couldn't help but eye the contraption, as he'd never seen anything like it before.

The woman felt his eyes on her, turned and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"No, uh, I was just looking at...at your baby. How old is he?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why do you want to know?" Her hand unconsciously cradled her son's back as she stared at Michael more intently.

He laughed nervously and gave her a smile. "It's okay. I, I mean, some friends and I, are watching a little girl for awhile. We don't know how old she is, but she's about the size of your son."

The look on her face turned even more disturbed. Sam came up beside him, and she backed up a step. "So, what do you want?"

"I just want to know what size diapers he wears so we can get some for the girl."

"Six to nine months." She grabbed a package and shoved it at him, then grabbed another and hurried away.

"Jeez Mike, what'd ya do? She looked like she thought you were gonna steal her baby or something!"

"Nothing! I just wanted to ask her a question, because her kid looked about the same size as the one we have." He handled the package and looked at the size. "She said these were the ones to get." He tossed the package into the cart and they moved on.

"Woah, almost forgot the baby wipes," Sam said as he grabbed a container on the end of the aisle. He wrote down the price and quickly checked the list. "We're just about done."

"Good. Fi's probably wondering why it's taking us so long." He couldn't wait to get out of there. Michael kept an eye out for the woman, not wanting to spook her any more than he had, but she didn't cross their paths again. He also kept an eye on Sam's list and mentally added up the numbers. If this is how much it costs to have a baby, it's probably a good thing we don't have one. I didn't realize they were so high maintenance, for such simple little beings. Maybe when Fi sees the bill, she'll think twice. It's just too much, too much for us to handle on so many levels!

They met their most challenging task when they reached the clothing section. The little girl clothes were just too cute, and Sam had at least six outfits selected before Michael could consider two of them. Sam caught Michael's disapproving stare and asked, "What?"

"That's too many."

"Are you kidding? Babies go through at least two outfits a day!" He held up another outfit, a frilly yellow dress made of yellow and white polka dotted fabric with flowers embroidered on the front, and considered it.

"But how long are we going to have this kid? Just a couple days, maybe three, since it's a weekend coming up." He snatched all the clothes from Sam's hands and hung them back onto the rack. "That's what a washing machine is for. We'll take three..."

"Four..." Sam picked up three from the bunch Michael discarded. "You can pick out something for her, too."

"Okay, four." Michael gave in as he dropped a sundress into the cart. "That's it."

"Okay, fine." Sam tossed his choices on top of the growing pile. "And she'll need at least one sleeper." He held up two in his other hand.

Michael leaned his forearms on the cart handle. If he picks up one more thing, I swear I'm going to go insane. With gritted teeth, he asked, "Is that it off the list?" It had better be! I can't take any more of this!

Sam ran his index finger down the paper and noticed a few things that they missed. However, when he snuck a glance at his friend's face, he decided that it was better to go without, rather than have Mike blow his cool in the store. If they were spending his money, he'd probably feel the same way considering that it wasn't his kid.

"Yeah, that's it. Let me quick add this up and see where we're at."

While Sam calculated the cost, Michael dropped into a glider rocker and rubbed his forehead to proactively get rid of the headache he was sure to develop when Sam came up with a final figure. Hey, this is kind of nice! He pushed himself into a soothing glide as his hands ran over the smooth surface of the arm rests, and he could feel the tension melting away. Maybe we should get one of these. Then he saw the price tag, and his feet stopped the motion as he paled.

"Okay, good news Mikey, it's not as bad as we feared. The grand total with the tax should be...three hundred twenty eight dollars and some odd cents."

"That's not bad? I hate to think what it would have been with all those things the manager recommended." Michael stood and pushed the cart toward the checkout counter. "Let's get out of here before we blow any more money."

Feeling for his friend's financial shock, Sam kicked in fifty bucks. "Here you go, Mike. For the cause."

"Thanks, Sam."

"Don't mention it. Maybe when we get to Fi's you can milk her for the lion's share if she intends to take care of this kid until Social Services can pick her up. Which reminds me, I should try again before we go and buy all this stuff and it turns out to be for nothing."

The relief on Michael's face was evident. "Good idea!"

Sam hit the speed dial, and it again relayed him to a recording. "Great, this time I got an answering machine or something. What do people do if they have an emergency?"

"Call the cops, I'd suspect, and let Social Services sort it out later."

"Probably right."

They moved into a checkout aisle. Sam helped him put everything on the counter, except for the car seat box. That was big enough that the clerk was able to scan it from where it sat. As the bags filled with new merchandise, Sam stuffed them in and around the box. By the time they emerged from the store into the stifling heat and the humidity that kicked up a few notches thanks to a short afternoon thunderstorm, Michael looked like he was ready for a nap. They put everything into the trunk and returned to Fi's apartment.

Fiona would have felt like a new mom at a baby shower as she opened the bags and examined the contents, but she was too intent on looking for two things in particular. "Michael, Sam, where are the bottles and the formula?" The baby cried in the carrier on the floor.

"Bottles we've got," Sam answered as he pulled out a set from one bag. He glanced at Mike. "We forgot formula."

"I can't believe it. What about cereal? Or baby food?"

"Whoops." Michael cringed.

"Whoops? Whoops? This poor child is starving, Michael, and all you can say 'whoops'?" She let out what could only be described as a growl with a sigh.

"Now Fi, don't get excited. You got any instant oatmeal?" Sam headed for the kitchen.

"Yes, I do. In that cupboard." She pointed to the one where a box of envelopes with different flavors sat on the shelf. She went back to the baby, picked her up, and tried to soothe her with whispers.

"Thanks." He rifled through them quickly, looking for plain. All the while, the baby's cries intensified and the sound grated on their nerves. He pulled a bowl from another cupboard, put some water in it, and shoved it into the microwave. As he waited for it to heat, he asked, "Do you have a coffee grinder?"

"A...yes, right there." She looked at him strangely, not sure why he wanted coffee at a time like this, when it was so important to get the baby fed.

Sam hastily wiped out the grinder, put the oatmeal in it, and ground it up so it was fine. Just in time, the microwave beeped, he pulled the bowl out onto the counter, and dumped the oatmeal in it. He stirred, added a little cold water to cool it down somewhat, and handed it to Fi. "Baby dinner is served."

"Thank you, Sam." She eyed him with cool admiration for thinking of something like that. She would have just cooked the oatmeal and been done with it.

Michael stood with arms crossed, his brow creased, a look of doubt on his face. "Are you sure that's okay for her? Maybe she's too young for solid food."

"Right now, it's all we've got. If she doesn't accept it, then I'll make an emergency run to the store," Sam said as he watched.

Fiona sat at the table with the baby on her lap and tried using a teaspoon to feed her the cereal. "Oh, this it too big! She won't take it!"

"We bought a spoon, I know we did," Sam said.

Michael pawed through the bags. "Yeah, I remember seeing one. Here it is!" He quickly pulled it off the cardboard and washed it, then gave it to Fiona.

Feeding went a lot smoother afterwards. When the decibel level lowered, so did everyone's blood pressure. Sam volunteered to go to the market and get some baby food and formula. As he walked out the door, Michael said, "Hey Sam, pick up something for us while you're gone!"

"Yeah, sure thing, Mike." By the time he returned, the baby was fed, covered with a real diaper and a new outfit, and Fi wore a t-shirt. Not knowing what to get for baby food, he came in bearing a bag full of small jars and plastic containers, a box of baby oatmeal, formula, and juice, and in his other hand, a pizza. "Fi, you changed."

"She spit up on me."

"Oh, sorry."

"No worries. They do that." She smiled and took the bag from him. Her smile widened when she pulled out a magazine. "What's this for?"

"They had an article in it about caring for a new baby. Thought it might come in handy for you. For all of us, if we're going to help out."

Fiona glanced at Michael, her eyes lighting up with her smile. She leaned against the counter and thumbed through the magazine. "That's sweet of you, Sam. Michael hasn't said anything about helping."

Michael stood and approached her, holding the baby in his arms as she slept after her meal. He spoke softly, his eyes on Fiona. "If this isn't helping, I don't know what is."

Sam watched Michael as he brought the sleeping baby over to them. Rarely would he have ever thought his friend was cute, but the look on his face, showing a mix of wonder, fear, and concern about dropping the baby, was precious. If Mike wasn't careful and Fiona picked up on it, he would find himself being pressured into starting a family. Fi had been cranky all day, but the baby seemed to soothe her, and her protectiveness was admirable and endearing. Yes, if they ever had their own, Sam was confident that they would make good parents. Once they got over the initial fright.

"I think it's safe to put her in her carrier to sleep," Fiona spoke softly as she took the baby and laid her in it and set it on the floor. She covered her with a blanket. Her hand lingered over the soft skin on the baby's arm. "I can't believe how sweet she is. So soft. How could anyone let her go?" She looked up at them, blinking back tears.

"I don't know, Fi." Michael felt a tug at his heart upon seeing the anguish in her eyes.

"I wish we at least knew her name." Fiona rocked the carrier before standing. "It's hard not knowing at least that much."

"After we eat, Sam, can you run a check on all the babies that have been born in the Miami area three to six months ago?"

"Mike, that's a lot of babies! All we're gonna get are names. Even if we knew her birthdate, there would still be a lot to go through."

Michael looked down at the sleeping child with growing frustration. There had to be a way to find the parents without involving the police! He wanted to locate them and find out why they abandoned her. While the idea of having his own offspring scared the life out of him sometimes, he still couldn't help but care about a little girl with no name and no family, left on a stranger's doorstep carelessly. Lucky for her it was Fiona's doorstep. What if it had been a child molester, or an abuser? The thought brought back bad memories of his own childhood, and he was again grateful that she wound up at Fiona's place.

"Sam, just do it, and then we'll see if we can narrow things down."

After dinner Sam set up his laptop on the dining room table and went to work. The records were easy to find, and he created a printout of them. Then he came up with an idea. Knowing what little they had on the girl just by observing her behavior and ability to eat the oatmeal, Sam did some research on child development. While he worked, Fiona and Michael spent time with the baby when she woke from her nap. Fiona found something for her to play with, and Michael watched from his perch on the couch as she and the baby played on the floor. She's a natural at this, but me...I wouldn't know the first thing about entertaining a baby and playing with it! Fiona got the baby to roll from her back to her stomach, and he stared in fascination as she pulled herself up onto her arms and tried to crawl.The baby giggled and gurgled ecstatically. When she was dry and fed, she was a very happy baby. After awhile, he tired of watching them and went to see how Sam was doing. He'd been far too quiet for too long.

"Any luck?" He leaned over his friend's shoulder and stared at the screen.

"Well, I've got good news and bad news. Bad news, between three and six months ago, there were over three hundred live births in the area hospitals. The good news is, I was able to shave off some time on our projections of her age. Considering what she's able to do, she should be around five or six months old, so really we've cut off two months." He tapped on some keys. "If we take that into account, that brings down the number of potentials, minus the male births, of course, it goes down to...sixty five possible hits."

"And that's good news?"

"Well, compared to over three hundred, I'd say so." Sam shrugged.

Michael leaned on the edge of the table and studied the data on the screen. "Do the hospitals keep record of footprints or handprints?"

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up. "I think you're onto something there, Mike. We just need to get a print off her, and my buddy can run it through the system." He turned and watched Fiona on the floor with the baby. She had just gotten a bottle, a burping, and a change in that order. Fiona dressed her in one of the sleepers, and they were riveted on the tenderness she showed as she talked to the baby, smiled at her, and played with her hands and feet.

Sam let out a soft sigh. "You owe it to her, Mike."

"What? What do I owe her? Who? The baby? Fi?"

Sam turned his gaze to his friend, looking deeply into his eyes. "I know you're not that stupid." He stretched and straightened in his chair, then stood. "I need to get myself some coffee, unless we're all done here. If that's the case, then I'm going home to bed."

"Yeah, we'll be fine, Sam. Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome." His eyes gravitated back to the baby. "Get me those prints and tomorrow I'll check with my buddy, see what we can find." He packed up his computer. "Hey, what are we going to do about that client we talked with today?"

"Oh, him. When you were at the store, I called him up and said we couldn't really help." He paused when he saw the look on Sam's face. "Come on, Sam, you know it was a case for the police anyway! And besides, we've got another client right now." While talking with him, Michael moved over to Fiona and the baby, crouched, and lightly touched his fingertips to the baby's chest. She looked up at him with her big eyes and smiled.

Jane Doe.

Client.

"Okay, I understand. I'll see you tomorrow, right here?"

"Yeah, Sam. See you tomorrow."