By Meg Cabot
Existence within reason rosy for plus-size ex-pop superstar became Assistant Dormitory Director and someday sleuth Heather Wells. Her freeloading ex-con dad is eventually relocating out. She nonetheless yearns for her sizzling landlord, Cooper Cartwright, yet her dating with "rebound beau," full of life vegan math professor Tad Tocco, is greater than passable. better of all, no one has died in recent times in "Death Dorm," the aptly nicknamed pupil place of dwelling that Heather assistant-directs. after all each silver lining eventually has a few black cloud hooked up. And whilst the most recent murdered corpse to mess up her jurisdiction seems to be her awfully unlovable boss, Heather unearths herself at the shortlist of top suspects—along with the rabble-rousing boyfriend of her high-strung scholar assistant and an indecently good-looking younger campus minister who is been accused of taking liberties with yes women' choir participants. With repute beckoning her again into express company (as the celebrity of a brand new childrens' show!) it is a quite undesirable time to get wrapped up in one other murder. Plus Tad's been operating himself as much as ask her an immense query, which Heather's uncertain she has a solution for . . .
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Additional info for Big Boned (Heather Wells Mysteries)
All right,” I say. “Out. Both of you. ” Big Boned 33 Sebastian stops smiling. “Aw, come on, Heather. You have to admit, the man was cold. ” Now I glare at Sarah. I can’t believe she told him that. “Does everyone have to keep bringing that up? ” I demand. “And he didn’t yell, he—” “Whatever,” Sarah interrupts. “Heather’s the one who found the body, Sebastian. She’s understandably shaken. I’m supposed to be keeping her company until the cops are ready to interrogate her. ” “I am not shaken,” I cry.
Clearly, death had taken him unaware, and been mercifully quick. But still. I’m pretty sure he didn’t deserve to go that way. Or at all. “Well, whatever,” Sarah says, when I mention this. We’re sitting in an empty storage room down the hall from our own office, which has been cordoned off as a crime scene by the police. Formerly used by the student government as their admin- 28 Meg Cabot istrative office until after months of complaints we offered them a new one—not located directly across from the dining office like this one, and so reeking of smoke from the dining manager’s illicit cigarettes—upstairs, the storage room is supposed to be where we stack old broken chairs from the lobby and misdelivered boxes for the North American Man/ Boy Love Association, which has an office down the street, and whose mail I often “accidentally” forget to forward.
Just a few words about how devastatin’ it was findin’ Owen’s body, and all. ” “Um,” I say. Her breath smells like she just swallowed an entire Listerine Pocket Pak. ” Outside, the spring sky is still as blue as it had been when I’d lost my uterus, just a few hours earlier. It’s unseasonably warm—a hard morning for anyone to spend in an office, or Big Boned 57 slouched in front of a chalkboard, or, you know, at a crime scene. True, the drug dealers have scattered thanks to the strong police presence over by Fischer Hall.
Big Boned (Heather Wells Mysteries) by Meg Cabot