Excerpt of The Stranger Next Door by Chastity Bush

"Dispatch to car twelve. Come in, car twelve. Over." "Car twelve here. Copy." "There's a disturbance at the Quick–E–Mart on South Seventh Street. Over." "Roger that. We're on it." Sliding the receiver back onto the hook, Tess smiled at her partner. "About time we got a little action." Dean grinned. "All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy." He pressed the accelerator and sped down the street. Tess and Dean had been best friends since childhood and partners since their first day on the force more than ten years before. He was a typical adrenaline junkie while she was a basic hopeless romantic. How or why she'd ever become a cop, she'd never know. Perhaps it was her way of showing people she wasn't such a goody two–shoes, which in all honesty, she didn't believe herself to be. Just because she'd rather sit at home with her head in a book, instead of going out clubbing, didn't mean she was prudish. But with Dean, it didn't matter. They knew each other better than they knew anyone else. Never a lull in conversation or a dull moment ever fell between them. Their differences ensured there was always something to discuss or something they could teach one another. After all this time, they were more like sister and brother than partners. "Don't get too excited," Tess warned him. "The last disturbance we got called to here was two ten–year–olds fighting over whether or not Tony Hawk was the greatest skateboarder of all time, remember? It ended with a bloody nose and a broken skateboard." Laughing, Dean shook his head. "You're a party pooper, you know that?" Smiling, Tess leaned back in the seat and relaxed as much as she could for the next four blocks. The clock on the dash read three in the morning, and she was bushed. Patrolling the south side wasn't for the faint at heart. But they'd been assigned here for the night, at Dean's suggestion, no doubt. There was nothing she could do about it, nor did she really want to. They didn't get a lot of action on their regular patrol, and Dean went a little rigid when he didn't get his adrenaline fix. She could live with it for one night. "Here we are," Dean said as he thrust the car into park. "Not a ten–year–old in sight." Stepping out of the car, they looked around cautiously. Trash littered the sidewalks as the wind blew around them. A stray newspaper slapped against her leg. Bending, she dusted it away. An eerie feeling swirled in the air around her, filling her lungs like a choking smoke as she cautiously approached the store. Chalking it up to lack of sleep, Tess shook the feeling aside and shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. Now wasn't the time to get spooked. "Watch yourself. This isn't exactly the good side of town," he said, zipping his jacket. "You're telling me," she murmured, pulling her jacket tight around her as she and Dean pushed through the main entrance. A bell tinkled overhead as they entered the small corner store. Candy and novelties lined the counter on either side of the cash register and around the open space of counter reserved for customers to pay for their purchases. "We received a call about a disturbance," Tess said as she approached the counter where the clerk waited. Sweat dotted the clerk's brow. His thin form shook. He looked utterly terrified as he nodded once, curtly. Something's definitely not right here. Her earlier foreboding intensified. Meeting Dean's eyes, she slowly placed her hand on the butt of her gun. "Sir, is there a problem here?" Dean asked warily. The clerk's eyes darted behind them and then quickly back to their faces. He was pale and sweating. It was clear to Tess the man was terrified, but of what? The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Every instinct she possessed told her to call for backup, but she ignored her inner voice. She chalked this uneasy feeling up to the fact that she was exhausted, it was late, and she was possibly not thinking as sharp as usual. Turning in the direction the clerk kept looking, Tess scanned the area. Everything looked fine. The shelves were filled to the brim with chips, candy, and other snacks. The floors gleamed a brilliant ivory under the bright lights. Cautiously, Tess moved deeper into the store. Something black behind one of the rear shelves caught her eye. Drawing her gun, Tess proceeded toward the object. She gasped. A shoe, and what appeared to be a dead body, rested at the rear of the aisle. Holstering her gun, she closed the distance between herself and the body. "Call for an ambulance!" she called out to Dean as she knelt down beside the lifeless figure. Taking in the size of the hole in the front of the man's jacket, she braced herself for what she'd find inside. Gathering her nerve, she ripped open the blood soaked jacket. She nearly retched. Blood poured from a gaping hole in the young man's chest. Skin, muscle, and bone littered the entrance wound and spattered the racks of food and the glass doors of the coolers all around her. Blood covered the floor beneath them and soaked through the legs of her uniform pants. There was no hope for the victim. He'd sustained too much damage. His face was pale, his lips already tinged the lightest shade of blue. "Help's on the way," Dean said as he knelt down beside her. "I checked the store but didn't see anyone. I also radioed for backup and an ambulance." "I'm afraid there's nothing they can do now," she said, showing Dean the gaping wound before closing the jacket back over it. "Damn, he's gone." Dean shook his head. "Did you get anything from the clerk?" Tess searched the pockets, looking over the dead body for identification. "All he said was a couple of guys came in here and started to argue. After he called the cops, one shot the other, then ran out the back. He didn't kno—Tess get down!" The impact of Dean's body slamming her to the floor knocked the air out of her as a single gunshot ripped through the silence. The sound of running footfalls and approaching sirens reached her ears as the bells on the entrance door chimed. Whoever shot at them had escaped through the front door. "Come on, buddy, get off me; he's getting away," she said, trying to catch her breath. Dean was a lot heavier than he appeared. Again, she pushed at his chest but Dean wouldn't move. "Come on Dean, he's gone. Get up," she urged again, pushing at his large body, but still he remained a dead weight on her back. Something warm and sticky slid down the inside of her collar and dribbled down her neck and chest. Prying one of her arms out from between their bodies, she reached up and touched the warm liquid. Pulling her hand back, she trembled. Blood. Thick, red blood, mixed with something else she couldn't identify, coated her fingers, running into the palm of her hand and down her forearm. "Dean?" she said in a panic as she wiggled around. Struggling from beneath him, she rolled him onto his back and immediately spotted the hole in his forehead. Screaming, she shook his shoulders. "No, please, no! Wake up, Dean! Wake up!" Once again, the bells on the front door chimed and a stream of shouts and curses filled the air. "Get her away from the body; she's in shock!" someone yelled over the sound of incessant screaming ... her screaming. A pair of strong hands clamped her upper arms. "Stop it, he's gone, McCoy! There's nothing you can do! He's gone!" a voice blared in her ears before crushing her against a hard chest, wrapping her, holding her with strong arms. Gone? Dean's gone? The world stilled around her. Everything and everyone froze. No one moved or made a sound. It was as if she were in a movie and someone had hit the pause button. Nothing existed, besides her and her best friend's bloody corpse. The paramedics rolled in a gurney. Sirens, screams and orders were shouted, echoing around. Everything wavered before her eyes, then darkness assailed her.