The Deadly Coaching Inn (Abigail Summers Cozy Mysteries Book 7)

Murder, Mediums & Mischief at The Three Crows Pub

When Abigail Summers—former dressmaker, now ghostly investigator—arrives at the infamous Three Crows Pub for a paranormal weekend, she expects spectral sightings, not a double murder. But when ghost hunter Tyler Drayton is found dead in haunted Room 6 and a second body appears in the cellar, Abigail and her otherworldly team of sleuths spring into action. Alongside psychic Hayley Moon and the pub’s resident ghosts, they unravel secrets buried deep beneath the old coaching inn and the nearby priory.

The investigation spirals as another murder shocks the village: influencer Felicity Fortescue is found dead in Ridgeway Wood, her body hidden in a birdwatcher’s hide. With ties to the local archery club and whispers of a secret lover, the mystery thickens. As Abigail follows the threads, a toy parrot, a ghostly child, and a long-forgotten family tragedy add chilling layers to an already tangled case.

The Deadly Coaching Inn is the seventh installment in Ann Parker’s acclaimed Becklesfield series—a cozy, clever mystery packed with wit, twists, and the comforting presence of spirits who never rest until the truth is found.

Start your next ghostly adventure with Abigail and the Deadly Detective Agency today.

Excerpt from the book

Police Constable Tom Bennett rubbed his hands together as he stood outside Room six of The Three Crows. The corridor was narrow and the uneven walls were starting to make him feel claustrophobic. It seemed very dark for eleven o’clock in the morning, not helped by the small lattice window, warped with age. There was a chill in the air which reminded him that he was in the most haunted building in the Chiltern Hills, according to the locals. They obviously didn’t know about the house in Church Lane, Becklesfield, where he lived with his wife, Hayley—or Hayley Moon, to followers of the paranormal.

Tom couldn’t help thinking that Hayley would have been a much better celebrity than this Damien Shadow off the television. Then again, Hayley was quite happy helping people and the police while staying out of the public eye.

The young, handsome policeman was used to ghosts, but there was definitely something spooky—perhaps even evil—about this old coaching inn. It was made worse by the dead body he was guarding just six feet away. The forensic team was due, and Tom wished they would hurry up. He peered into the room to look at the body on the bed. The man was sitting up and leaning against the headboard. He could have been thought to have nodded off if it weren’t for the fact that he had been stabbed in the chest. The first thing Tom had done when he got to the scene was phone his boss, Detective Chief Inspector Tony Johnson of Gorebridge CID. Then he had phoned his wife.

Hayley and the team—if you could call five spirits a team—were on their way. Hayley had been quite happy doing a few readings and talks for the Women’s Institute until dressmaker Abigail Summers had been murdered and, with his wife’s help, the case had been solved. After that, they formed The Deadly Detective Agency and assisted the police with their murders—not that the police knew for sure. Hayley would have to stay outside the pub, out of Johnson’s way, but he knew Abigail would soon be there sticking her nose in—or as she called it, investigating. Not that Tom could see her, but she still tended to complicate things for him if he had to pass on any observations she had.

Tom was pleased when he heard footsteps coming up the staircase to the first floor and saw Bob and the others with their equipment and cameras.

“Morning, Tom. Nice old pub, isn’t it? Full of history.”

“Full of something; ghosts, they reckon.”

“You a believer, are you? Mind you, I suppose you have to be with your wife.”

“You stand here for five minutes on your own and you’ll be a believer,” snapped Tom.

“Fair enough. Right, who have we got?”

“One of the ghost hunters, Tyler Drayton.”

“Well, he’s one himself now. What’s the murder weapon? Looks like it’s made of brass.”

“The landlady said it’s the toasting fork that’s always hanging by the fireplace in the bar. It’s been there for years.”