What if everything you believed - about the people you trusted, the friend you lost, and the town you called home - turned out to be a lie?
When a mysterious plane goes down in the rugged Ozark Mountains, it doesn’t take long for Alex Abrams to realize something is very wrong. The wreckage burned, the pilot dead, and the cargo missing.
As Alex digs deeper, she uncovers a tangled web of cartel connections, a shadowy security team with ties to Los Angeles, and a betrayal that stretches farther than she ever imagined. But nothing prepares her for the truth behind the friend she thought she lost forever.
The cliffhanger from Bryan’s Bluff finds its explosive conclusion in Cooper’s Creek, the second book in the gripping Alex Abrams mystery thriller series.
As Alex races to unravel the mystery, the stakes grow deadly. With her future on the line and the people she loves in danger, she’ll have to decide how far she’s willing to go, and who she can still trust.
Packed with action, Cooper’s Creek continues the pulse-pounding Alex Abrams series with more danger, deeper secrets, and a past that refuses to stay buried.
Just one more chapter…
What if everything you believed - about the people you trusted, the friend you lost, and the town you called home - turned out to be a lie?
When a mysterious plane goes down in the rugged Ozark Mountains, it doesn’t take long for Alex Abrams to realize something is very wrong. The wreckage burned, the pilot dead, and the cargo missing.
As Alex digs deeper, she uncovers a tangled web of cartel connections, a shadowy security team with ties to Los Angeles, and a betrayal that stretches farther than she ever imagined. But nothing prepares her for the truth behind the friend she thought she lost forever.
The cliffhanger from Bryan’s Bluff finds its explosive conclusion in Cooper’s Creek, the second book in the gripping Alex Abrams mystery thriller series.
As Alex races to unravel the mystery, the stakes grow deadly. With her future on the line and the people she loves in danger, she’ll have to decide how far she’s willing to go, and who she can still trust.
Packed with action, Cooper’s Creek continues the pulse-pounding Alex Abrams series with more danger, deeper secrets, and a past that refuses to stay buried.
Just one more chapter…
The steady hum of the Cessna 172 Skyhawk’s engine was Henry’s only companion as he cut through the early morning haze over the Ozarks. The flight path was familiar, etched into his muscle memory from months of late-night runs, but tonight’s mission was anything but routine. Flying off the books always meant no flight plan, no communication, no safety net, just a man and his machine.
Henry glanced at the altimeter, his nerves steady but his eyes sharp. A faint metallic tang tickled his nostrils. His brow furrowed as his gaze darted to the fuel gauge. The needle was sinking faster than it should. A quick sniff confirmed his growing suspicion: fuel.
“Damn it,” he muttered, his heart rate spiking. He flicked switches and scanned the gauges, hoping for a quick fix. None came. The engine coughed, a sputtering protest that sent a cold shiver of dread through his chest.
The plane shuddered as if in sympathy, and the nose dipped. Henry instinctively pulled back on the yoke, pitching for the best glide speed. The hills below stretched out in every direction, a patchwork of dark woods and glistening streams. Beautiful, but deadly for an emergency landing.
His training kicked in. Checklist, always the checklist. Fuel selector: checked. Throttle: adjusted. Fuel valve: off. The engine’s protests grew weaker, sputtering into silence.
The cockpit fell unnervingly quiet, save for the wind rushing past the fuselage.
Henry's hand hovered over the radio, his thumb itching to call for help. But calling a mayday wasn’t an option. Not this time. This flight couldn’t exist on any record. The risk wasn’t just his life, it was the lives of his family too, everything he stood to lose.
The transponder remained dark.
“Focus,” he growled, his voice filling the small cabin like a command. He scanned the terrain below, his eyes locking on a narrow clearing tucked between a pair of hills. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.
He braced himself, gripping the yoke tightly as the plane descended. He adjusted the flaps, doing his best to bleed off speed without stalling.
The ground rushed up to meet him.
The impact was brutal. The plane’s wheels struck uneven terrain, bouncing violently before the nose dug in, sending the Skyhawk skidding to a stop in a spray of dirt and fallen leaves.
The cockpit went dark.
Henry groaned, his body pinned awkwardly by the seatbelt. Pain radiated from his leg, sharp and unrelenting. He glanced down to see it twisted at an unnatural angle.
“No, no, no...” he mumbled, fumbling with the belt. The acrid smell of leaking fuel mixed with the burnt scent of hot metal.
He had to get out.
Using the seat for leverage, he pushed himself up. White-hot pain shot through his leg, and he collapsed back into the seat, gasping. He tried again, dragging his body toward the door. Each movement sent fresh waves of agony coursing through him.
Just a few more inches.
His vision blurred. His fingers found the latch, but his strength gave out. The last thing Henry saw before the darkness closed in was the glint of moonlight on the cracked cockpit window and the faint wisp of smoke curling from the engine.
Hours slipped by in eerie stillness until pain dragged Henry back from the depths like an anchor through deep water, his mind flailing to grasp how long he’d been out. Henry’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he couldn’t tell where the pounding in his head stopped, and the throb of his broken leg began. He squinted into the darkness, the faint glow of moonlight the only illumination.
The world outside was hauntingly calm, save for the occasional groan of the wind through the trees. Then he heard it: a faint crunch of dead leaves.
His heart lurched.
Henry held his breath, ears straining. Another rustle, closer this time. Someone was out there.
A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the faint light spilling from the broken window. Henry’s eyes widened in recognition.
“You,” he breathed. “Thank God. I thought I was done for.”
The figure didn’t respond; he just stood there, staring.
Henry shifted, wincing as pain shot through his leg again. “The package, it’s in the duffle in the backseat. Take it. But I need your help. My leg’s busted. I can’t move on my own.”
The figure stepped closer, peering into the wreckage. He reached into the plane, grabbed the black duffle bag from the backseat, and slung it over his shoulder.
“Wait,” Henry said, his voice rising with desperation. “Don’t just leave me here. Help me, for God’s sake! I’ll bleed out if…”
The figure turned, slowly walking toward the fuel line. Without a word, he pulled a lighter from his pocket, flicking it open. The flame danced in the moonlight, a harbinger of doom. He dropped it onto the leaking fuel.
Flames roared to life, licking the sides of the plane with voracious hunger.
“No!” Henry screamed, clawing at the door, his body a cage of pain. The fire spread, heat searing his skin.
Desperation flooded his veins, a last burst of adrenaline pushing him to action. He reached into his jacket, fumbling out a small bag filled with pills. With the last ounce of his strength, he tossed it through the shattered window.
As the killer walked away, he paused and turned to watch the flames consume the plane, his silhouette a grim sentinel in the night. Henry’s screams faded into the crackling inferno, leaving only silence and the sinister glow of the burning wreckage.
◊◊◊
The view from the deck wrapped around the Hollywood Hills like a diamond-studded necklace; glittering, excessive, and begging to be flaunted. The mansion itself was rented, the host forgettable, and the music too loud for anyone to hear their own bad decisions.
Inside, the air reeked of cologne, champagne, and barely disguised desperation.
“Little brother,” the eldest sneered, brushing ash off his designer blazer as he stepped into the kitchen. “You hand out another pill for free and I swear I’ll break your damn jaw.”
The younger man looked up from the marble island, where he’d just snorted a line of coke thick enough to power a jet engine. His pupils were huge. He grinned like he’d just won an Oscar for Best Disaster.
“Relax,” he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “They were hot. They wanted to party. It’s called marketing, big bro.”
“It’s called flushing a hundred grand down the toilet.” The eldest stepped in close, voice low. “You think this is a game? You not paying your dealer is why we’re in this mess in the first place.”
The younger brother’s grin faltered, just a flicker. “He said it was cool. Said he’d front me a little something."
“That ‘little something’ had huge strings attached,” the older brother snapped. “And now we’re all on the hook, because you wanted to impress a girl with party favors.”
Across the room, perched on the white leather arm of a sofa, their sister didn’t bother to look up from her phone. She scrolled lazily through a string of instant messages from some guy she barely remembered meeting, her manicured nails tapping a slow rhythm against the screen.
“Don’t look at me,” she said, voice syrupy and venom laced. “I’m not slinging drugs for his screwup. I have brand deals.”
“You don’t have shit,” the eldest snapped. “Not anymore. The money’s gone. Daddy’s dead. You want to keep drinking overpriced rosé and tagging celebrity chefs in your Instagram stories? Then move your ass and help push the product.”
She slid her sunglasses down just far enough to let him see the pure hatred in her eyes. “If you ever speak to me like I’m one of your little street dealers again, I will ruin your life twice. Once in court, and once online.”
“Don’t tempt me, baby sister,” he said. “You already burned through your trust fund. You're just coasting off my business now.”
“Your business?” she snapped. “You mean the one you’re too dumb to understand and too scared to walk away from?”
The younger brother cackled as he refilled his drink with trembling hands. “Oh my God, this is better than Bravo.”
The eldest stepped toward him. “You. Go upstairs. Get your shit together before you OD and make me clean up another mess.”
The younger brother raised his glass in a toast. “To family, totally dysfunctional, morally bankrupt, but always entertaining.”
He sauntered off toward the pool, a girl in a red dress trailing behind him.
“He’s going to get us killed.”
“That sounds like a you problem,” the sister said, pushing up from the couch and strutting toward the doors. “I’m going to Chateau. Good luck with your ‘business’.”
“I hate you both,” he muttered.
◊◊◊
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, a lingering chill clinging to the pre-dawn darkness. Lucca stepped out onto the back deck, stretching as he took in the quiet hush before sunrise. The sky was shifting, deep blues giving way to the faintest hints of orange along the horizon.
Alex sat motionless in one of the faded Adirondack chairs, her phone clutched tightly in her hands. She hadn’t changed clothes from the night before; her dark hoodie and jeans were the same ones she’d worn when she came home looking like she’d seen a ghost.
Lucca sighed, rubbing a hand through his messy hair. “Please tell me you got some sleep.”
Alex didn’t look up. “Can’t.” Her voice was hoarse, like she’d spent the night wrestling with thoughts too loud to ignore.
Lucca dropped into the chair beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. “I bet you’ve listened to it a hundred times, haven’t you?”
Alex turned the phone screen toward him. A single voicemail notification glowed against the dark background. “I had to.” She exhaled, long and slow. “It’s him, Lucca. It’s Shawn.”
Lucca glanced at the phone, then at his sister. “But it can’t be.”
Alex finally looked up, her blue eyes shadowed with exhaustion. “That’s what I thought too. But it’s his voice. The way he says my name… it’s him.” She swallowed hard. “Mrs. Miller buried him, Lucca. Or at least, she thought she did.”
“So, what do we do? We don’t have a number to trace, no way to find out who bought that burner phone. It’s a dead end.”
Alex shook her head. “Not yet.” Her grip on the phone tightened. “Hutch said Shawn’s body was unrecognizable. His mom identified him by what was in his pockets. That means we only have what Hutch told us. And we know how that turned out.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Hutch.
It had only been a few days since she and Lucca had uncovered the horrifying truth: that Hutch, Alex’s high school boyfriend and the town’s trusted medical examiner, had been the serial killer terrorizing Summer Haven. He’d worn the mask of a friend, a colleague, a man they thought they knew. And all along, he had been the one orchestrating the so-called accidents, the murders.
He had captured both Alex and Lucca, convinced that he could outsmart them, manipulate them into becoming just another one of his twisted stories. But Alex had turned the tables. She had overpowered him, used his arrogance against him, and brought him down.
Alex had decided to leave New Orleans behind; to walk away from the crime scenes, the ghosts of the cases that haunted her, and the relentless weight of a job that had slowly chipped away at her. The city had been her refuge once, a place where she could bury herself in work and outrun the memories she wasn’t ready to face. But in the end, it had only given her more scars.
Returning to Summer Haven hadn’t been part of the plan. Not at first. But after everything, the hunt for a killer who had been hiding in plain sight, the betrayal that cut deeper than any knife, and the realization that no matter how far she ran, her past would always catch up, she knew it was time to stop running.
She needed to come home.
Not just to protect the town that had shaped her, but to try and put herself back together. To face the wounds she had ignored for too long. To heal. And maybe, just maybe, to find a way to start over.
But when Sheriff Lou Daniels announced his resignation and offered her the job, she hesitated. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to step into those boots, to take on an even larger role in protecting the town she once ran from.
She had planned to talk it over with Lucca, but then the voicemail had come.
A message from a dead man.
Lucca blew out a breath. “If Hutch was wrong about Shawn’s body, then where the hell is he? And who the hell is in his casket?”
“That’s what we need to find out.”
The first slivers of sunlight peeked through the trees, casting long shadows across the deck. Birds began to stir, their calls breaking the quiet dawn.
Lucca nodded toward the phone. “Play it again.”
Alex hesitated, then pressed play.
A burst of static crackled through the speaker. Then, a voice, barely above a whisper.
“Alex, it’s Shawn. I need your help.”
The message ended.
Lucca ran a hand down his face. “Shit.”
“He’s out there, Lucca. And I’m gonna find him.”
The twins sat quietly, each lost in their own thoughts for what felt like eternity when Alex’s phone rang, shattering the silence. She flinched, her pulse spiking as Lucca’s eyes snapped to the glowing screen between them.
Unknown Caller.
Alex sucked in a breath, her fingers tightening around the device. “Do you think… ”
“Answer it,”
She hesitated for only a second before swiping to accept the call. “This is Alex.”
A familiar voice came through the line, heavy with something that sent a chill down her spine.
“Alex, it’s Lou.”
She exhaled sharply, slumping back in her chair. Not Shawn.
“Lou, it’s barely six in the morning.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please tell me this is just a courtesy call about my job offer.”
“I wish,” he said. “But I need your help. There’s been a plane crash down by Cooper’s Creek.”
Alex sat up straight. “A crash?”
“Small aircraft. Went down sometime in the night. Emergency crews just got on scene.” He hesitated. “They found something, Alex. Something you’re gonna want to see.”
Alex’s stomach twisted. “What is it?”
A pause.
“I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”
She didn’t like the way he said that. Not one bit.
Alex glanced at Lucca, who was already pushing to his feet, reading the shift in her expression.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Heading to the site now.” A beat of static crackled through the line. “Meet me at the ranger station off County Road 3986. And Alex… get here fast.”
The call disconnected.
Alex and Lucca locked eyes.
“Guess I’m going to Cooper’s Creek,” she muttered, already walking towards the door.
Review: Cooper’s Creek by C.D. Sharpe
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ | Mystery, Thriller, Small-Town Suspense
253 pages | Book 2 in the Alex Abrams series
Cooper’s Creek by C.D. Sharpe blends rural mystery with cartel intrigue, betrayals, and the gritty resilience of a small-town heroine worth rooting for. Though I haven’t read book one, I found myself immediately drawn into Alex Abrams’ world—a place where danger lurks in the hills and every old friend might carry a new secret.
The story kicks off with a mysterious plane crash in the Ozarks and never really slows down. Alex, a former Air Force vet turned homicide detective, investigates a web of connections that leads her deep into cartel activity, a shadowy security team, and questions about a friend she thought she lost forever. The plot is well-paced, the tension tight, and the themes of trust, trauma, and reckoning lend the story emotional weight.
What stood out most was Alex herself—tough, loyal, and smart. Her interactions with side characters like Mrs. Miller, her brother Lucca, and longtime friend Shawn give the novel heart. The banter (“To Sam Elliott and awesome 80's movies”) adds levity that helps ground the heavier moments.
There were some elements that could use more clarity—name drops that never quite pay off, character introductions (like Jesse the dog) that could be clearer, and some shifts in perspective that momentarily jarred me. But I stayed invested throughout. Even the off-page action (like Alex snapping photos as a summary rather than in real time) didn’t derail the pace too badly.
In short, Cooper’s Creek is a gripping second installment that reads fast, hits hard, and leaves just enough loose ends to pull you into the next book. A must-read for fans of small-town thrillers and resilient female leads.
I will be picking up the next book in the series when it becomes available!
🔗 Read my full review at: elizajunesapphire.com/bookreviews