I’m Emily Westhill. I set my alarm to go off at five fifteen every morning.
I have a cat.
I seldom need that alarm. . .
Deputy Donut is a tortoiseshell tabby with tri-colored tabby stripes and cute circles on her sides that resemble donuts. I usually shorten her name to Dep. After I’ve fed her and eaten my own breakfast, I get out her halter and leash. She usually lets me fasten the halter around her without much batting and biting, probably because she doesn’t want to be left behind and she likes our daily walk to work. Well, I walk. Dep bounces and pounces.
After about six blocks of our start-and-stop progress, we’re in downtown Fallingbrook, Wisconsin. We enter our café, named Deputy Donut after the cat, by the back door leading into our office. After making certain that both the back door and the one leading into the dining room are securely closed, I release Dep. She races up ramps, staircases, and carpeted “trees” to the catwalk surrounding the room just below the ceiling. She dashes through tunnels up there, grabs toys, and bats them off the edge. By the time she gallops down, I try to be in the dining room, with the door securely shut again. Actually, I try to be in the dining room before the toys start raining down.
I go behind the serving counter to the kitchen. Tom, my business partner, is often there first, making dough and batter while oil heats in our deep fryers. He usually does the frying and I usually do the decorating. When customers start arriving at seven thirty, our display counter is full of delicious fried treats and our coffee makers are ready to dispense rich brews from around the world.
Our customers are wonderful. We have a couple of groups who come in nearly every day, and other townsfolk drop in often. Tourists have discovered us. They come to visit the falls for which Fallingbrook is named, and they stop at Deputy Donut for donuts, coffee, tea, and a taste of our friendly community. And then they spread the word . . .
I was a 911 operator for a couple of years until I could no longer stand the stress. Tom retired recently after being Fallingbrook’s very popular police chief. Both of us have lived in Fallingbrook most of our lives. Between us, we have many friends among Fallingbrook’s first responders, many of whom show up at Deputy Donut for their breaks.
Okay, I’ll admit right here and now that donut-loving cops are a stereotype. Cops truly do not spend their entire days eating donuts and drinking coffee. Most of them work out and stay fit.
However, Fallingbrook police officers are especially fond of the donuts that Tom and I make. Actually, everyone is.
Tom and I rush around all day, but we find time to chat with our customers. Deputy Donut is the perfect place to pick up facts, gossip, rumors, and lies, especially if there’s been a crime.
My two best friends since junior high also still live in Fallingbrook. One is a policewoman and the other is an Emergency Medical Technician. The three of us get together often. We tease each other and laugh until we hurt.
Sometimes I envy those two women for the fast vehicles they drive, complete with sirens and flashing lights.
But I’m not very jealous.
I have donuts. And a cat named Deputy Donut.
You can read more about Emily in Survival of the Fritters, the first book in the NEW “Deputy Donut” mystery series.
Emily Westhill runs the best donut shop in Fallingbrook, Wisconsin, alongside her retired police chief father-in-law and her tabby Deputy Donut. But after murder claims a favorite customer, Emily can’t rely on a sidekick to solve the crime—or stay alive.
If Emily has learned anything from her past as a 911 operator, it’s to stay calm during stressful situations. But that’s a tall order when one of her regulars, Georgia Treetor, goes missing. Georgia never skips morning cappuccinos with her knitting circle. Her pals fear the worst—especially Lois, a close friend who recently moved to town. As evening creeps in, Emily and the ladies search for Georgia at home. And they find her—murdered among a scattering of stale donuts . . .
Disturbingly, Georgia’s demise coincides with the five-year anniversary of her son’s murder, a case Emily’s late detective husband failed to solve before his own sudden death. With Lois hiding secrets and an innocent man’s life at stake, Emily’s forced to revisit painful memories on her quest for answers. Though someone’s alibi is full of holes, only a sprinkling of clues have been left behind. And if Emily can’t trace them back to a killer in time, her donut shop will end up permanently closed for business . . .
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About the author
Ginger Bolton writes the Deputy Donut mystery series–cops, crime, coffee, donuts and one curious cat. When Ginger isn’t writing or reading, she’s crocheting, knitting, sewing, walking her two rescue dogs and generally causing trouble. She’s also fond of donuts, coffee, and cafes were folks gather to enjoy those tasty treats and one another’s company. As Janet Bolin, she wrote the Threadville mystery series.
All comments are welcomed.
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