Evening had fallen, but the inn was anything but quiet. A good number of Los Angelenos filled the tavern and spilled out into the streets to celebrate the holiday. Inside the tavern, Diego de la Vega, Bernardo, and Alejandro, along with Sergeant Garcia, Corporal Reyes, and many others, tapped their feet along with a flamenco guitar. The wine and brandy were flowing, and two tables had been pushed together just so there was enough room for all the food. Candles were lit around the room and the fireplace mantle and flowers decorated most of the available surfaces and twined their way down the staircase rail and across the railings on the second floor.

Diego sat at a table for four with his father, Sergeant Garcia, and Corporal Reyes. As the guitarist picked up speed and the revelers clapped along with him, Diego leaned across the table, refilled Garcia's glass, and clapped him on the shoulder. "A wonderful celebration, eh?" he questioned with a smile.

"Oh indeed, Don Diego, and gracias for topping me off!" Garcia saluted him with this glass and proceeded to down most of it in one gulp.

"Anything for the greatest soldados in the pueblo!" Diego replied heartily, also adding some more wine to Corporal Reyes's Corporal grinned at him, but his eyes were clearly drawn to the young woman dancing down on the floor. Diego leaned forward so he could be heard. "You know, Sergeant, all this talk of fantasmas and spirits has me thinking. Do you remember when Maria Felipe went missing?"

Garcia nodded. "Oh, si, her brother sent the entire garrison to look for her, almost. A terrible thing."

"And no one ever found any sign of her?"

Garcia shook his head. "Not even a footprint. It was as though she disappeared off the face of the earth."

It was pretty much the same story he'd gotten from his father. Alejandro de la Vega no more believed in ghosts and spirits than he did that any man in charge of the Pueblo de Los Angeles was a trustworthy man. He was convinced that the doctor's death was a heart condition and nothing more, and that Diego's mind was playing tricks on him.

I know what I saw. I know the look I saw in Don Escobar's eyes. My father may be right that it is no ghost, but there is something going on, and I intend to discover what it is.

Someone grabbed Diego's hand, and he jumped in surprise. He looked up into the dark eyes of the flamenco dancer, who shot him a flirtatious smile and then pulled him onto the floor. He caught Bernardo's wide-eyed stare from near the bar, and his father laughing approval. The woman swirled her skirts as Diego moved around her. There had been down time at the universidad, of course, and Diego and his friends had gotten out to explore…and dance. The entire inn began clapping along with the beat.

The door burst open, and a young caballero burst in, panic in his eyes. His entrance brought the festivities to a screeching halt. The young man ran up to Sergeant Garcia and pounded on the table. "Senor Sanchez!" he cried, breathless. "It is Senor Sanchez! Please, come quickly!"

Diego caught his father's eye as the inn emptied out into the street. Alejandro said nothing as the two de la Vega men followed everyone outside and pushed their way to the front of the crowd.

Senor Sanchez lay on the ground near the well, shaking fiercely. Beads of sweat poured down his forehead, and his hands were clenched together tightly around his middle.

"Everyone, clear the way, please clear the way!" Sergeant Garcia's booming baritone echoed through the plaza. The curious crowd did not move, whispering and staring at Senor Sanchez.

"This is ridiculous," Alejandro said. The old ranchero put two fingers to his lips and blew. The loud whistle startled several in the crowd, backing them away from the sound so that Garcia and Reyes could get through. Diego and Alejandro followed close behind, with Bernardo hanging back near the inn doorway.

Senor Sanchez was breathing heavily, his face flushed and his skin clammy. "Senor!" Garcia said. He looked at Don Alejandro. "We must find this man a doctor!"

Alejandro spread his hands. "The only one we have is six feet in the ground, Sergeant!" he reminded him.

Sanchez grasped blindly, latching onto Garcia's banda, startling the bigger man. "La….la….la fantasma!" he gasped. "Maldicion!"

Diego froze, and turned to his father with a raised eyebrow. As he did, Sanchez went rigid on the ground, eyes wide open.

Corporal Reyes placed two fingers on the man's neck, and leaned over Sanchez's gaping mouth. "He's dead!" he announced.

As Garcia called for some assistance moving the body from the square, Alejandro and Diego melted back into the milling crowd. Bernardo met them around the side of the inn. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. "He is dead," Alejandro confirmed. He looked at Diego. "All right, my son, I am starting to believe you." He glanced around. "Perhaps, ah, Zorro might look into this matter?"

Diego nodded. "I'm afraid he may need to, Father," he replied. "It cannot be a coincidence that the two men dead are two of the men who were at Don Felipe's bedside the night he died."

Alejandro understood the connection. "You think perhaps Don Escobar may be the next victim of la fantasma?" he questioned.

Diego nodded. "Father, you go to Senor Sanchez's office, see if you can see anything unusual. Bernardo and I have to…pick up a few things."

He looked at Bernardo. Bernardo made three slashing motions with his finger, and Diego nodded. "Si, Bernardo. Tonight El Zorro must go in search of La Fantasma."

El Zorro made his way over the side wall of the Escobar hacienda and dropped silently to the patio, his cape billowing around him. The lanterns were lit, but no one was outside. He pressed himself against the wall, then peered into the window next to him. It appeared to be a library or office. A candle was lit on the large desk, a full wine glass sitting next to it. Zorro tested the window, found that it opened to the outside, and tugged it open. He threw a boot over the sill, then froze as the door to the room opened. Quickly, he slid back out onto the patio, crouching below the windowsill.

Someone came into the room. Zorro craned his head to look into the room, and saw Don Escobar. Escobar shivered as a fall breeze came into the room. The candle blew out, plunging the room into darkness, and Escobar cried out in surprise.

Zorro ducked away again as Escobar came over. "The window," he heard Escobar stammer. "H-how did…it was closed when I…" The window slammed shut.

Escobar is definitely afraid of something, Diego realized. The older man was on edge. I suppose I would be too, if two men I did business with had died mysteriously in less than 24 hours. Diego studied the layout of the hacienda, trying to figure another way in. He needed information from Don Escobar, and he was getting it tonight before the man dropped dead.

Escobar's office was situated on a corner of the house. Perhaps there was another window on the opposite side. Diego made his way over the wall again and around to the outside, and grinned at the sight of another window at ground level. Excelente. Diego glanced inside, looking at EScobar. He had relit the candle, but he was only sitting at his desk, staring at the piece of paper in front of him. Diego opened the window and slipped silently into the room. He drew his rapier and lightly poked Escobar in the back.

The older man started badly. "Apologies, Senor," Diego said. "You appear to be a little on edge," he noted.

"I thought…I thought you were someone else," Escobar confessed.

"La fantasma, perhaps?" Diego asked. "The ghost that has killed two of your compatriots?"

"H-how did you-"

"I make it my business to know. Now. Would you care to tell me why this ghost has cursed you?"

Escobar swallowed. He reached for the piece of paper on his desk and handed it behind him with a shaky hand. Diego took it with a gloved hand, and read the words:

You cheated Don Felipe. There is a special place in Hell for you and those who conspired with you. I am your emissary, your Charon, that will guide you to the gates of Hell, where you shall remain in torment for eternity because of your misdeeds.

Dos abajo.

Quedan dos.

Diego frowned.Two down, two to go. "Who are the two?" he demanded. "Senor Sanchez, Doctor de la Cruz…who are the others?"

"Myself," Escobar said in resignation. "And Juan Felipe."

"Who sent you this letter?"

"La fantasma," Escobar whispered. "Maria Felipe."

"Maria Felipe is dead."

Escobar shook his head. "No. Her restless spirit is tormenting us all."