Detective Lansing waited for his prisoner to be brought in.  He didn't believe in coincidence and this case was no exception.  Sure Miquel Sanchez was cooling his heels on death row but, that didn't mean he didn't have connections, scum like him always did. 

While he waited, the detective opened his worn leather notebook and went over the details of Miquel's case.  His wife was stabbed 47 times with a kitchen knife, found at the scene.  His son, 16 times.  What kind of sick twist can stab a three year old 16 times with a butcher knife?  According to Miquel, he had been partying with a friend and hadn't made it home that night.  Of course, the friend is, at this date, nowhere to be found, and Miquel says he was too messed up to remember who else attended their little social event.  How convenient.

The door to the conference room opened and a stoic officier brought Miquel Sanchez in.  He could see why Sonya fell for him, with his prison tats and knifing scars.  Miquel Sanchez was just the guy he'd want dating his daughter Lindsey.  Right.  He watched the prisoner sit down and then leaned forward to stare him in the eye.

"So, who'd you have off Nona?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Miquel, Miquel.  Of course you don't know what I'm talking about.  You didn't know what the cops where talking about when they asked you why you killed your wife and son.  Why should you know what I'm talking about now?"

"I don't you guys I didn't kill my wife and son.  You're the ones who don't believe me."

"Oh yeah, because, you were partying with a bunch of folks who don't exist."  The detective sneared, "Look, I haven't had my morning coffee so, I'm not in the mood for you're crap.  Just tell me who killed Ms. Flores so I can be on my way."

Miquel Sanchez stared across the table and decided to keep his mouth shut.  He hadn't been able to convince the police that he had nothing to do with Sonja and little Miquel's death so, why would he have any luck now.  Yeah, he had made mistakes in life.  He had the scars to prove it.  But, things had been different after he met Sonya. 

Sonya had believed in him and loved him.  Then, their son had come along and she insisted on naming him after his father.  Imagine, she wanted their son named after him.  He couldn't tell the detective sitting across from him that he would have walked through fire before he harmed his family, let alone stab them up like that. But, he knew it was useless.  One look at his tattoos and scars and most people saw a man capable of anything.  This detective was no exception.

"Can I go back to my cell now?"  Miquel asked quietly.

Detective Lansing looked into the other man's eyes then, he stood up.  "Go ahead.  I know where to find you when I need you."

He watched the guard take Miquel out of the room.  He was pretty sure the guy had nothing to do with the Flores murder.  A chill ran up his spine.  If Miquel didn't have Nona Flores murdered, who killed her?  And why? 

Miquel sat on his bunk waiting for the guard to leave.  When the man finally walked away, he reached under his mattress for the faded picture of Sonya and little M.  The picture made his heart ache every time he looked at it.  He ran a large, trembling index finger over the lines of his wife's face and felt crushing grief coarse through his heart.  Who could have hurt such a beautiful human being?  And little Miquel, his little M?  Who could have looked into those beautiful brown eyes and killed his little boy?  How could they believe he could have killed his liitle boy?

Miquel carefully slid the picture back under his mattress and stretched out on the uncomfortable slab he would be calling a bed until his date came up.  In a way, he didn't mind taking the shot.  There wasn't much to live for now that Sonya and Little M were gone.  He even dreamed of them being there to meet him when he crossed over to the other side.

Still, he hoped he lived long enough to see the day they found who the real killer was.  He hoped and prayed for that day.  He wanted to see the face of the man who had ended his life.  Miquel closed his eyes and sighed.  Sonya wouldn't like him thinking like that. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, Baby."  He whispered softly.  "I'm so sorry."

Miquel cleared his mind of all the hurt and grief.  He made himself remember his son being born and Sonya laughing when he was learning to change diapers.  He chose to remember the good times they had together and the fact that he had been happy, if even for a short time, with his life. 

With those memories held firmly in his mind and in his heart, Miquel Sanchez drifted off to sleep.