By Meg Cabot
Heather Wells Rocks!
Or, not less than, she did. That was once ahead of she left the pop-idol existence at the back of after she won a gown measurement or -- and misplaced a boyfriend, a recording agreement, and her lifestyles rate reductions (when mother took the money and ran off to Argentina). Now that the glamour and glory days of never-ending mall appearances are long ago, Heather's completely pleased with her new dimension 12 form (the general for the yankee woman!) and her new activity as an assistant dorm director at one in every of New York's best faculties. that's, till the useless physique of a feminine scholar from Heather's place of dwelling corridor is found on the backside of an elevator shaft.
The police officers and the school president are able to chalk the loss of life off as an twist of fate, the results of reckless younger mischief. yet Heather knows teenage ladies . . . and women do not elevator surf. but nobody desires to pay attention -- no longer the police, her colleagues, or the P.I. who owns the brownstone the place she lives -- even if extra scholars begin turning up useless in both usual and subtly sinister methods. So Heather makes the choice to tackle another new occupation: as spunky woman detective!
But her new activity comes with few merits, no cheering crowds, and lots of liabilities, a few of them most likely deadly. And not anything ticks off a killer greater than a portly ex-pop big name who is sticking her nostril the place it does not belong . . .