Heather Wells Rocks!
Or, at least, she did. That was before she left the pop-idol
life behind after she gained a dress size or two -- and lost a
boyfriend, a recording contract, and her life savings (when Mom
took the money and ran off to Argentina). Now that the glamour and
glory days of endless mall appearances are in the past, Heather's
perfectly happy with her new size 12 shape (the average for the
American woman!) and her new job as an assistant dorm director at
one of New York's top colleges. That is, until the dead body of a
female student from Heather's residence hall is discovered at the
bottom of an elevator shaft.
The cops and the college president are ready to chalk the death
off as an accident, the result of reckless youthful mischief. But
Heather knows teenage girls . . . and girls do not elevator surf.
Yet no one wants to listen -- not the police, her colleagues, or
the P.I. who owns the brownstone where she lives -- even when more
students start turning up dead in equally ordinary and subtly
sinister ways. So Heather makes the decision to take on yet another
new career: as spunky girl detective!
But her new job comes with few benefits, no cheering crowds, and
lots of liabilities, some of them potentially fatal. And nothing
ticks off a killer more than a portly ex-pop star who's sticking
her nose where it doesn't belong . . .
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