Hugs Bugs and Danger

By Lizzie Lewis

A Button Up Detective Agency Cozy Mystery #2. As Janika Jones settles into her new career as a private investigator – fully trained, of course – she is asked to take the part of a New York art collector’s assistant to investigate a picture in a London art gallery, where she has to obtain vital photographic evidence without being caught. The theft of a collection of wartime medals leads to a gruesome discovery. And being accused of poisoning an unwelcome visitor is just another event in Janika’s hectic life at the Button Up Detective Agency.

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Tree Publishing
• Release date: Mar 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781913950002

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About the Book

As Janika Jones settles into her new career as a private investigator – fully trained, of course – she is asked to take the part of a New York art collector’s assistant to investigate a picture in a London art gallery, where she has to obtain vital photographic evidence without being caught. The theft of a collection of wartime medals leads to a gruesome discovery. And being accused of poisoning an unwelcome visitor is just another event in Janika’s hectic life at the Button Up Detective Agency.

Hugs Bugs and Danger

A Button Up Detective Agency Cozy Mystery #2

by

Lizzie Lewis ©2021

This eBook ISBN: 978-1-913950-00-2

Also available as a paperback

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-913950-01-9

Published by

White Tree Publishing

Bristol

UNITED KINGDOM

[e-mail]

Full list of books and updates on

https://whitetreepublishing.com/

Hugs Bugs and Danger is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this abridged edition.

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Book

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

The Abi Button Cozy Mystery Romance Series

About White Tree Publishing

Chapter 1

Of course it’s raining hard, and the wind is driving sheets of it across the road in enormous gusts. It’s 2 o’clock in the morning, and I don’t really want to get out of the car. I’ve parked behind Button Up coffee shop, and the area is completely deserted. At least, I hope it is. Even at the best of times I worry about walking from my parking space, round to the door to my office and living accommodation

I’ve just come back from a surveillance job, keeping an eye on a warehouse for the first night of what was planned to be the first of seven.

It’s where things have mysteriously gone missing. The aircon on my old Nissan Micra isn’t very effective, and of course it only works when the engine is running. A car with a running engine in the early hours of the morning isn’t exactly invisible.

So there I was, with the window wound down sufficiently to be able to keep an eye on things, which meant it was sufficiently far down for the rain to blow in. But I really hit the jackpot. The warehouse owner had told me there was no point in staying after 4 o’clock, because he had good reasons to believe the thefts occurred in the very early hours of the morning.

He was right. Just after midnight a tall van with a high roof-rack came past slowly, which certainly looked suspicious.

It came round twice more before finally stopping outside the warehouse. Two men jumped out, climbed onto the top of the van below an upstairs window. One man helped the other to climb up, simply pull open the window, and disappear out of sight.

The manager had made it absolutely clear that I wasn’t to get personally involved, but phone the police. And that suited me just fine. I made the phone call and knew I would have to wait to give a statement, assuming the police turned up before the men left. And they did. Turn up, that is. Caught in the act, as the saying goes.

I have good reason to be worried about walking around here in the middle of the night, even though it’s only a short walk, or run, to my entrance door. As far as I know the gang that murdered my husband Sam have no further interest in me, but of course there’s always the chance I’m wrong.

When Abi Button, or Abi Wells as she is now, advertised the office and living accommodation above the coffee shop, it sounded ideal. And of course it is, apart from the fact that all the other shops in the road use the upstairs floors for offices and storage.

So there’s absolutely no one around to hear me if I have to scream for help. And scream I certainly will if anyone tries to attack me, even though it will be a total waste of my breath.

I’m not going to bother with my umbrella. The sooner I’m safely indoors in the dry the better. I open the car door, duck my head against the wind and rain, and run round to the front of the building.

I always carry a small flashlight, and I start fumbling with the door keys. Why on earth did I have two locks fitted? I know they make me feel safer when I’m indoors, but they don’t help out here in the dark. One of them is rather fiddly to get the key into in the dark.

I can hear footsteps approaching, and I’m still fumbling with the second lock. I quickly grab my pepper spray from my bag, clutching it ready for use in my left hand, while my right hand continues to fiddle with the key. Come on, come on!

I pause. There’s no point in presenting an attacker with an open door to shove me inside, although the alarm would go off. But who’s around to hear it? Apart from the owner of the footsteps, of course. It’s clearly a man.

I shrink into the doorway which is set back a little from the pavement, standing absolutely still. Someone passes with a brief, Good night, and keeps going. What a chicken I am to be scared of footsteps! Anyway, I haven’t needed to use my pepper spray, so it lives to fight another day. And that’s one blessing.

Within a few seconds I’ve opened the door, locked it behind me and disabled the alarm. Just one more locked door at the top of the stairs, but I can take my time now. I’m shaking. It’s probably the effect of all the adrenaline that kicked in during the arrest of the two men at the warehouse.

I’m inside at last. I slide the metal bar across the door to seal it from any intruders coming up the staircase. It’s already saved my life once. There are three bullet holes in the door to prove it. Splintered around the edges, but clearly identifiable as bullet holes. They came from my first and only unwelcome visitor so far in my new career.

Melanie Donovan’s stepson Liam is nine years old. Melanie is Abi’s business partner, and half owner of Button Up. Liam could hardly believe his eyes when I showed them to him, and he insisted his school friends Sophie and William came to see them the next day after school.

I’m not sure their mother was exactly thrilled to think that her twins were mixing with gangsters, but they were allowed to see them all the same. I also showed them the three marks where the bullets had struck my beautiful antique mahogany desk, but they thought the holes in the door were much more impressive.

I’ve still not got round to getting a new panel fitted, but perhaps the holes will strike fear into any potential troublemaker who comes to see me in my office.

Detective Inspector Dickinson has assured me that they are onto the drugs gang that killed Sam, and they have no reason to believe I’m holding onto any information that would incriminate them. The list of names that Sam, a Detective Constable, had written inside the cover of a book is now with the CID in Brevelstone, the sprawling town where Sam and I lived. So what’s still to worry about? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Pull yourself together, Janika.

I feel too wound up to sleep. I’m certainly not going to have a coffee. Anyway, the coffee I make is rubbish compared to the coffee Abi and Melanie make in the café down below. I wonder what’s happening with the men the police arrested, thanks to my expert surveillance ‒ and no thanks to a misted up Nissan Micra.

Now I’m safely in, I feel secure. The office at the front of the apartment is large, and the living accommodation at the back is no more than a bedsit. I hang my rainproof jacket up to dry, and flop down on the bed. I chose the mattress, and it’s perfect for a good night’s sleep.

Whether I’m going to get to sleep is a different matter. All I can see is those two men pleading innocence, saying it was all a mistake. Quite what the mistake was they didn’t say, but no doubt their solicitor will think of a good one.

Abi’s husband Danny is a solicitor ‒ aka lawyer. I hope he’s going to find work for me. He says that’s something he’s working on. So far, business hasn’t been exactly brilliant. I’ve done a few pro bono jobs, which is getting my name known. I’m the only private investigator in town, so surely there are jobs around that need my expert attention.

Expert? Well, I am fully trained ‒ and there’s a framed certificate in the office to prove it. And after tonight’s success, who knows what the future holds? Actually, I’m starting to feel sleepy. Probably exhaustion after the excitement of the arrests, but sleepy all the same.

Chapter 2

It must be 7 o’clock already. I can hear the chairs and tables being moved around down below. That means young Pete Wilders is in. He’s a student doing an evening course at the local college, and a keen and reliable worker in the coffee shop. Abi and Melanie own the business, and take it in turns to be in early, but rarely are they here at this time.

Normally I’m awake before seven, and I find the noise rather comforting. There’s a shriek from the high-pressure coffee machine. I must have had less than four hours sleep, but I’ll not be able to get back to sleep now. As soon as I’ve made myself moderately presentable, I’ll be going down for an excellent coffee and croissant. A great way to start the day, even though I feel ‒ and probably look – half dead.

The thought of a successfully completed job gives me a satisfied feeling. I opened up here just over two months ago, renting the office and living accommodation from Abi and Melanie. I was going to name my new business the Janika Jones Detective Bureau, after my name, but it seemed that Abi has always had a talent for being nosy ‒ aka being interested in what’s going on around her, to use her words.

Abi had decided that when the previous tenant left, it would be good if a detective business rented the upstairs, so she could keep an eye on how things were going, and help out from time to time. Her dream name for the business was the Button Up Detective Agency, and she gently twisted my arm into adopting it.

I now have smart black and gold business cards and flyers which Abi and some other businesses in town leave on their counters for potential clients. It seems to be paying off. Not that I’m short of funds yet, because the compensation from the police and the life insurance for Sam’s murder will last me for many years, even if most of the work I do is free in order to get my name known in the town.

I’ve just finished my shower, and I’m applying a small amount of make up. Should I dress in my black business outfit with a crisp white blouse, or is it a morning for jeans and a clean sweatshirt? Decisions, decisions.

I’m just zipping up my jeans when my phone goes. It’s too early to be clients, surely. Janika Jones.

Janika, Courtney Jacobs. I hope I haven’t woken you.

Detective Constable Jacobs, what can I do for you? I decide to pretend to be very formal with her, although we are becoming friends now. It was Courtney who saw me through the early days of Sam’s murder back in Brevelstone.

Courtney laughs. It’s like this, Private Investigator Jones. I happen to be coming your way today, and thought I’d drop in for a chat. How are you fixed?

I have to laugh. "What you mean to tell me, Courtney, is that you have something important to share with me, and you’re coming here specially. Yes?"

Courtney returns my laugh. You’re a sharp one for a civilian detective, Janika, she teases. You’ve got me there. How are you fixed for 10 o’clock at yours?

Mine or Button Up? Courtney’s answer will give me a clue as to how confidential and serious the matter is.

"Definitely yours, Janika. But I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee first in Button Up, if that’s okay with you. But we don’t discuss business there."

That’s intriguing. It’s also rather scary. Do I need to watch my back in the meantime? I try to say it flippantly, but somehow it comes out much more seriously than I intended. Or perhaps just as seriously as I intended.

Just a bit of an update, Janika. That’s all I’m authorised to say over the phone.

Courtney sounds so serious that it makes me feel uncomfortable. Oh well, at least the two intruders last night are safely behind bars. I just wish the leaders of the drugs gang were equally out of action. It’s obviously something in connection with the gang that murdered Sam.

I look at the large clock on the office wall. It’s really a spy camera with a tiny lens hidden in the bottom of the 1 of the number 10. It’s triggered by movement, and records everything that happens in the office. So now it’s just caught me yawning and stretching back in the chair. Not that anyone is going to see it. The memory card is only in there

Reviews for Hugs Bugs and Danger

[Sheena Gurbakhash · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

another great story in the Button Up Detective Agency Series. This book is published by a Christian Press but doesn't have overt overtones of religion or Christianity in it. Janika (pronounced Yanika) faces her abusive ex-partner, goes to London and looks for missing military medals. The writing is very tight but no details are spared. Janika continues to gain in confidence. A very good read.