The Miller's Daughter (Rick Thane book 2)

Chapter 1: Murder in the Kitchen

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Chapter 1: Murder in the Kitchen

When people ask me to talk to their dead relatives, they usually ask, "Are they okay?" "What's it like to die?" or "Did you mind that I cremated you instead of burying you?" And the usual answers from their relatives happen to be "Yes", "You'll figure it out soon enough", and "No, you tosser." How do I know these answers, you ask? Well, my name is Rick Thane, I'm a qualified Spiritual Therapist, and I happen to see and speak to the dead.

I've been living in the UK for the better part of eleven years, three of which I've spent living in Bath with my wife Penny, who happens to be a ghost hunter. And while I do try and explain that there is a division between ghost hunting and a spiritual therapist, Penny still seems to land me in the mix with mediums, which I firmly disagree on.

In the past, I've despised ghost hunters, mediums and the like. The reason for this is due to the fact that the majority of them are fakes, and they annoy the spirits. So, I've disassociated myself with them. Well, I used to until about a week ago. You see, Penny had been contacted by Paranormal UK TV, asking if she would make an eight-episode series of paranormal investigations around the British Isles. Without thinking it through, she had accepted, signed the contract and was given £50,000 to put a new ghost hunting team together. I was nettled that she hadn't consulted this with me, but I was happy for her. She was finally being recognised for her nosiness in the painful deaths of people past. Well, I was happy until this morning...

Penny had made me breakfast in bed, which was quite unusual. Immediately I expected something fishy was going on. She smiled happily as she placed the tray on my lap and kissed me on the cheek. Wrapping her dressing gown around her, she sat on the side of the bed. 'Good morning.' I glanced down at my toast, eggs, hash browns and bacon. This was a special breakfast. She was going to tell me something I wouldn't like. 'Sleep well?'

'Of course. And you?'

'You never ask if I sleep well,' Edgar complained. I frowned in his direction. The old World War two-spirit was sat on one of the wicker chairs near the bedroom door. He had decided to follow me to Bath, saying that London was getting boring and he needed a change. Penny didn't like the fact that he was hanging around, but there was nothing either of us could do. He'd attached himself to me. 'You Yanks are so rude.'

'I slept very well, thank you,' she beamed. 'You going to eat it cold?' I began to dig in, but I knew what she was up to. While I had food in my mouth, I couldn't argue with her. Conniving woman. 'So, I have my ghost hunting team,' she began as I wolfed down one rasher of bacon. I thought that if I ate it quickly, I could hold a decent conversation without having food in my mouth. 'There's Rufus King; he'll be the cameraman and a technical specialist. Then there's Dannie Favre, she's helping with hair and make-up, and she'll be conducting the investigations with me.' I nodded; it was nice that she was having an actual crew rather than some Brady Bunch rejects like her last group that failed miserably. Penny had found a local paranormal group where most of them were in their late teens and would rather break into abandoned buildings than find spirits. 'And then there's Chris Perkins, who is a historian, and he'll also act as another investigator.'