me on the phone true?"
"Talk to her, Zeta. Not me."
The golden eyes burned into mine, trying to find a challenge.
He looked back at Ines, turned his palms up in his lap, meditation style. "You got something to say to me?"
"You're shorter than I remember," she muttered.
Zeta's mouth spread into an uneasy smile.
"What you think I should do to you, Sandra? Huh? Tell me that."
His voice was thin, taut, dangerously dry. The fact that he kept smiling didn't help at all.
The strength in Ines' body seemed to be channeling down to her hands - into the fingertips that stayed on Michael's narrow shoulders. She said, "I'm tired of being scared of you."
Zeta laughed. "Don't get tired yet."
"That person you married seven years ago, Anthony - that was a different woman."
"Looked like you, Sandra."
She raised one hand and made a fist. "How long would it have lasted, Anthony? How long would you have put up with getting nothing from me? How long before you hurt me? If we'd had a child, Dios me libre, how long before you hurt him, too?"
Zeta ran a knuckle along his jawline. He seemed vaguely surprised to find his beard gone.
Next to us, the two babies started crying softly.
"I never lied to you, Zeta," Ines said. "I never forced you to kill anyone. But you can't take responsibility for any of it, can you? Couldn't be your fault."
Zeta curled his fingers into his palm, tightened them until they turned white. "What do you want, Sandra? You come to apologize or yell at me?"
"I came to tell you I'm leaving you."
He laughed. "Thought you did that six years ago."
"I'm sorry. I was too afraid to say it then. I'm saying it now."
"And if I get out of here? If I come after you?"
Ines didn't flinch. She said, "I won't run anymore. I won't do that to my son."
I'm not sure which of us was caught off-guard most by the certainty in her voice.
Zeta focused on Michael for the first time. "Hey, chico, come here."
Michael didn't move.
Zeta cupped his hand inward, gesturing for the boy to approach the glass. Michael stepped forward. He kept his head down. He hooked a finger under his collar and scratched.
Zeta crouched a little. "Show me your eyes."
Michael didn't.
Zeta looked at Michael, then Ines. His expression said, Kid sure as bell ain't mine.
"Somebody talks to you," said Zeta, "you need to look them in the eyes, little man. It's respectful."
Michael looked up.
Zeta's face was deadly serious. No smile for the little kid. He looked like he was trying to burn a message into Michael's mind and I had a feeling he'd be able to do it pretty successfully.
"What's your name, little man?"
"Michael."
"M-mml?" Zeta mimicked. "What's your name? Speak up."
"Michael."
"You scared, Michael?"
"My daddy had that, too."
Zeta frowned. "What?"
Michael pressed one finger to the Plexiglas, pointing at Zeta's face, then poked his own cheek. "Cut himself shaving. My daddy let me put the Band-Aid on for him. Yes. I'm scared."
Ines' hands made a tent over her mouth.
Zeta cleared his throat. "I got to tell you something, Michael. Okay?"
Michael shuffled.
"I want you to take care of your mom, little man. You hear me?"
Michael milked his red-and-blue tie.
"You hear me, Michael? Will you promise me that? That's a real important job."
"Okay."
"She gets scared, you're the man to protect her. You hear me?"
Michael nodded.
"How about a 'yes, sir.'"
"Yes, sir."
"All right, then."
Zeta gestured toward the visitors' exit. "Good-bye, Michael. Adios, Sandra."
Ines started to say something, then stopped herself. Closure was a bull's-eye she could've easily overshot. She nodded to Zeta Sanchez, then looked at me.
"I'll be there," I promised. "Go on."
She looked like she wanted to protest that, but her desire to get Michael out of the room was stronger. She held out her arms to reclaim her son. She took Michael's hand and led him toward the exit.
Zeta watched her go. "Shorter than she remembers," he murmured. "Chingate."
Sanchez wore the same expression I'd seen once on a lion on Wild Kingdom - right after the tranquilizer dart hit, the beast stumbling around in irritated bewilderment on the savannah, just before Marlin Perkins said it was safe to approach and the sleepy lion mauled the hell out of Jim or Bob or whatever the hell the assistant's name was. Marlin had had to cut to a Mutual of Omaha commercial pretty quick after that segment.
I said, "If word gets around you let her go - "
Zeta raised a cautionary finger. "My call. You remember