The Haunted

She was also starting to wonder whether Oscar Cortinez’s version of history had some bearing on her own situation. Which was another reason she was so keen to research the particulars of this case. It might end up being nothing, but it seemed to her that the history of New Mexico and Tomasito County, Jardine in particular, provided clues as to the reasons behind the problems that were afflicting her family.

She might be able to win this case and figure out why their house was haunted.

And she had no doubt that she would win the case, no matter how good the lawyers turned out to be on the opposing side. The legal issues were clear. Oscar Cortinez had been singled out, and the layoff process had not been administered fairly. Beyond that, the teacher’s contention that his curriculum incorporated district standards even as it exceeded those standards seemed unimpeachable.

The more Claire read, the more she talked to Oscar, the more convinced she was that his curriculum should supersede that of the district. She still had a lot of studying to do, but what she’d learned so far was fascinating.

She’d read all of his lecture notes and had gone to the Web sites he’d listed for her—although, in the usual way of Web sites, the information she found there was sketchy and generic, basically what a person would find in an encyclopedia entry—but the crux of his argument for a revised look at local history rested on three books that he’d provided her.

The first book, meticulously researched and heavily corroborated, was published by a small press based in Albuquerque. That did not inspire her with confidence, but when she looked up information about the publisher, she learned that it was well respected within academic circles and even had a Pulitzer prize winner on its roster (which would definitely help their case).

The second book was older and much more informal, a casual narrative written in the early 1900s by a former farmer who was also an amateur historian. He’d put together anecdotal stories from longtime residents as well as written accounts from the diaries of relatives and local law enforcement officers. Surprisingly believable and engagingly written, the self-published book not only provided an unofficial look at the history of Tomasito County and the town of Jardine, but shed light on interesting details of everyday life at the turn of the last century.

The third volume was from a different perspective altogether. A chronicle of Spain’s and Mexico’s adventures in the Southwest, the land’s early exploration and colonization, it was based on eyewitness accounts recorded in official reports. Written by a respected Mexican historian and told from the point of view of those colonizing nations, the book had been published in Mexico in the early 1990s and recently translated by a noted professor from ASU.

All three books approached the same subject from different angles, giving, in toto, a complete picture of the area’s previously unrevealed past. Oscar Cortinez had not only done a lot of research and investigation, all of which informed his teaching, but he was providing the students and future citizens of Jardine a valuable look at their own history. He deserved to be commended for his efforts, not fired, and Claire was going to make sure that this injustice did not go unpunished—as soon as she finished delving into all of the background material the teacher had provided.

Locking the door to her office and pulling down the shades so she wouldn’t be disturbed—

so she couldn’t see Pam

—Claire got a bottle of cold water out of the refrigerator and settled into her desk chair.

She read.

Twenty-two

1598

At night, the horses screamed.

The natives had warned them not to go beyond the hills, but Miguel Huerta and his men were not about to allow the primitive fears of savages to deter them from their mission, so they’d continued on, and were sleeping tonight in a wide, riverless valley that remained completely uninhabited, despite the profusion of tribes in the region. A great massacre had once occurred at this location, according to Tsictnako, their guide, and since that day, generations before, people had shunned this place, afraid of the spirit that lived here, the unseen force that had led brother to slaughter brother, that had caused madness to descend upon all survivors, be they victor or victim.

The guide had not wanted to go here, had led them over the hills only under threat of torture, and he had deserted them sometime during the night, leaving them alone in this hostile, godforsaken land, a fact Huerta discovered when he was awakened by the screaming of the horses.