Masked Shadows: A Coach Bangler Mystery Series, #1

By Amy Simone

Dive into a world where an ancient mask holds power over life and death. In "Masked Shadows," retired Saints NFL Coach Joe Bangler and his allies face a malevolent force emanating from the depths of Russian folklore. As they grapple with creeping algae that threatens annihilation, the key to salvation lies in secrets as old as time itself. Are you prepared to witness what lies within the New Orleans warehouse?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Equestrian Basics
• Release date: Apr 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224878079

Book preview

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Chapter 1

The New Orleans Louis Armstrong airport bustled with activity as retired Saints NFL coach Joe Bangler awaited the arrival of his daughter, Eve, and her fiance, Pyotr. He softly tapped his toe against the brushed concrete floor. It had been months since he'd last seen her. She'd been living on the West coast finishing her Russian graduate studies. Coach Joe realized nothing compared to the excitement of reuniting with his only child.

He spotted her in the crowd, her bright smile lighting up the concourse. She wore her long brunette hair in a loose bun and a pale cotton skirt with a peasant blouse in what she called upscale boohoo. Pyotr, a tall jock of a guy who had a confident air about him, stood next to her. They paused, scanned the masses, then made their way towards him. Joe pulled them both into a tight embrace.

Welcome home, sweetheart, he said, planting a kiss on Eve's cheek. As he broke away, he noticed a tiny vibrant green symbol on the side of her neck. It looked like a multi-pronged upwards-pointing fork with uneven tines. Oh, what's this? He touched the artwork.

It's a tattoo, Dad, she smirked.

I didn't know you liked tattoos, Joe said.

Pyotr got one too. It's algae.

Algae? Joe knitted his brows. He whirled his head around, remembering his future son-in-law nearby.

So you got one too?

Pyotr ignored his question. Instead he Joe's hand firmly. It's great to be back in New Orleans. Joe still had a hard time understanding Pyotr's strong Russian accent.

As they made their way to the baggage claim, Joe admired the young man who had captured his daughter's heart. Pyotr was a professional ice hockey player, with a strong chiseled face. The young man was brimming with good health. Joe had spent limited time with him in the past two years. He observed Pyotr's calm demeanor, noting his stance and movement that came with being a successful athlete.

Once they collected their luggage, Joe led them to his sleek black Mercedes in the parking garage. He held the door open for Eve, then settled into the driver's seat. They decided Pyotr should ride up front because he was so tall.

Joe glanced at his daughter through the rear view mirror. How was your flight?

Long, boring, she replied, patting her fiance's shoulder from across the seat. I'm just glad to be home for a while.

What's in store for you guys after the wedding? Joe asked, hopefully.

That's what we needed to tell you, Dad, Eve began. Pyotr's retiring.

Joe's face fell momentarily but he looked away, pretending to observe a person crossing the street at the red light. After a beat, he asked, I was hoping to get to go to some of your matches, Pyotr. What's next, then?

Didn't mom tell you about us renting the warehouse? Eve asked. For our new store here?

Honey, you know I don't talk to your mom much, Joe told her.

She even co-signed the lease.

I could have helped.

I know, Dad, but you already paid for me to study in Russia. She patted the back of the driver's seat. The rest is history. I landed this guy.

Pyotr grinned extra large. His broad cheek bones expanded. Joe always thought his future-son-in-law would have made a great football player.

Wow, retiring. That's quite a change, Joe remarked. You two must be really serious about this new business.

Absolutely, Pyotr replied, his deep-set eyes meeting Joe's I've always been passionate about it, and since Eve is done with her studies, we're going to the next level.

Joe nodded uneasily. He knew his daughter struggled with budgeting. The idea of her diving headfirst into a business venture with her fiance made him queasy. In fact, Joe's ex-wife, Candace had been putting them up in Los Angeles for the better part of a year to help the couple save money. Eve had gotten into trouble with her credit cards. Los Angeles made for some treacherous shopping. Joe's ex could afford to help them because she was a sports analyst for a major network.

As they pulled into the secluded condo building, Joe quietly worried about Eve's future. He wanted her to be happy, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Pyotr's decision to retire from ice hockey might not be the best move.

Let's get you two settled in, he said, forcing a smile. We can talk more about your plans over dinner tonight.

Eve looked around her dad's living room, then poked her head into the massive chef's kitchen. Where's Gwen? she asked, inquiring about his in-home cook.

She has the day off, honey. You'll see her tomorrow. She left us a great spread to eat. You and Pyotr can take any of the bedrooms upstairs.

Actually, I'm taking Pyotr out tonight, Eve announced. I want to try this place we read about online. Come along if you like.

Joe shook his head. I better not. Need to watch my intake. He patted his belly which had gotten larger than he liked since he'd quit working for the Saints.

As the couple went up the narrow stairs to the second level, Joe fought his instinct to wince. Pyotr stood well over six-foot-three. Joe hoped he wouldn't bang his head on the overhang. The historic building had been renovated years earlier but there were some structural elements that had to stay.

Watch your head! Joe managed to say just in time. He saw the gargantuan Pyotr duck, barely avoiding colliding with the overhang.

Joe stood at the bottom of the stairs. You texted your mama yet that you made it here okay, didn't you? Joe called up the stairs.

Yeah, we did, came a muffled reply from Eve.

Joe returned to his wood-paneled den and clicked on his oversized TV. One of his coaching friends had sent him videos of a set of prospective players, seeking his opinion.

***

Later, Joe sat in his man cave, sipping a scotch and soda, savoring the smoky flavor. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the soft glow of the lamp on the side table and his oversized screen. He was alone, and had left his his sound system on low. A faint jazz track played in the background. Suddenly he got an itch to leave the house. Usually at this time of day he was at The Knee Jerk, a bar around the corner where he frequently met with his old Notre Dame college friend Edmond Clellan, a retired running back. Of late, Joe had begun dating the bartender, a woman in her thirties named Callie, a real looker.

He poured out the spent ice in his kitchen sink and slipped into a worn pair of dark brown deck shoes. The bar was so close he almost could count on all the digits of his hands and feet how many steps he'd have to take to get there.

The bar was tucked away on a narrow street just off Bourbon, its weathered sign and neon beer logos beckoning those seeking refuge from the chaos of the Quarter. Inside, the dim lighting and dark shellacked bar exuded a comfortable, lived-in ambiance.

Joe smiled. His craggy face transformed as he spotted his old friend Edmond Clellan nursing a glass of bourbon at the far end of the bar. There he is, the pride of N'awlins! he bellowed, making his way over, clapping Edmond heartily on the shoulder.

Edmond turned, his gargantuan moon face had eyes that crinkled at the corners. Joey Bangler, you're the man! Why are you here tonight? You're supposed to be out with the kids.

Eve and Pyotr got in safe and sound. She wanted to treat him to a romantic night on the town, Joe sighed. Gwen will notice all her fine food didn't get eaten but we always have tomorrow. Joe snapped his head around, zeroing in on the bartender. Callie, darlin', make me a Sazerac, would you?

Callie flashed him a thumbs up as she leaned over a deep sink behind the bar. She had on a visor to hold back her thick chestnut hair. Her voluminous chest peeked out from a deep-V cut torso-hugging top which accentuated her tiny waist. She explained to Joe that she dressed this way to help with the tips.

You got it, sugar. As she mixed the drink, she arched an eyebrow at Joe. So, we still on for later?

Joe chuckled. You know I can't say no to you, Callie. After I catch up with Edmond here.

Turning back to his friend, Joe turned serious, How's Jeremy?

We're taking Jeremy to Minnesota next week to see a specialist about his asthma.

Joe's expression sobered. Ah, I'm sorry to hear your little guy's still struggling. You and Sulu must be going half out of your minds with worry.

Well, you know us, Edmond said with a tired smile. We're not giving up until we find something that works for his lungs.

As Callie set Joe's drink in front of him, she gave Edmond's arm a sympathetic squeeze. You just let me know if there's anything I can do, Edmond. Jeremy's a real sweetheart.

I appreciate that, Callie, Edmond replied.

***

After Joe returned home, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and saw a dreaded familiar number—Candace, his ex, calling from Los Angeles. He hesitated, debating whether to answer, but curiosity got the better of him.

Hello, Candace, he said evenly, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Joe, darling, how lovely to hear your voice, Candace cooed, her tone sickeningly sweet. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important.

Joe rolled his eyes. Cut the act, Candace. What do you want?

Candace ignored his brusque tone and launched into her request. She was flying into New Orleans tomorrow