Book Spotlight: Cold Water Creek by Steven LaBree

Steven is a Florida native who is always curious and creative. Utilizing life experiences, he creates stories of love, mystery, human frailty, and the reality of truth. Creating imperfect and honest characters, he crafts fictional journeys that mirror human nature. He loves to keep you on the edge of your seat with twists and turns served with love and compassion. Apart from his short stories, Steven has released two novels narrated through an engaging voice, drawing from his own life and emotions. His favorite line is, Everything I write is true, except for the parts I make up. Life keeps him near the Atlantic Ocean in Northeast Florida. He continues to work on novels number 3 and number 4.

Cold Water Creek Blurb

This is a spotlight on “Cold Water Creek” by Steven LaBree

Inspiration to write Cold Water Creek…

I attended a seminar with Joyce Sweeny. We talked about story ideas and where they come from. She presented an article from a local paper about a van found in the water. It had sat there for over twenty years before discovery. Joyce said it was an interesting story, but not novel material. I differed in opinion and said, “I believe, with the imagination of a good writer, this could be a great story.” Thus, Cold Water Creek was born about a van found in the depths of the water and it contained the remains of a young woman cut down in her prime of life. How does this happen? Was it intentional? Did she simply drive off the road and drown? That was the thought until the autopsy revealed her demise could have been death by blunt trauma to the back of her skull. But nothing is that simple when it comes to murder.

Steven’s favourite scene from Cold Water Creek…

The drive to the bridge was less than a mile. Joanna turned to her son. “I didn’t ask before with all the confusion. What’s the baby’s name?”

Jeff gave a sad chuckle. “That was the problem. Sara couldn’t decide on a name.”

“But you do that at the hospital when the baby is born.”

“You’re assuming the baby was born at a hospital.”

“Wasn’t he? I mean, how else?”

“It’s a long story, and we can talk about it later. I don’t really feel like discussing it right now.”

The rain had slowed to a drizzle. A light fog lay across the grassy field. Around the bridge was visible. Jefferson looked beyond the dash and checked out the dark area around the bridge for any activity. He swallowed hard but stayed silent.

Joanna opened her car door and stepped out. “Where are the others?”

“Over there. Under the bridge. You can’t see anyone. It’s too dark, but they’re there. Don’t worry–everyone is out like a light.”

“Where’s the girl?”

“She has a name, Mom. Sara. She would be in my van unless she left.” He could only hope he’d been wrong, and she’d woken and gone home to their baby, somehow. They got out of the car and walked to his van.

Jefferson watched as Joanna opened the side door of the van. He looked over her shoulder and saw Sara’s lifeless body. It looked as if she were sleeping. Jeff pushed his mother aside and climbed in. Then he held Sara’s hand. It was cold. He looked back at his mother through his tears. “See, Mom? Nothing.”

His mother climbed into the van, touching Sara’s neck and wrist. She pressed her ear against Sara’s chest. Jefferson remained quiet, his cheeks wet as he watched, unsure who his mother had become.

“Follow me,” she said.

Trembling, Jeff placed Sara’s hands on her stomach, then swiped his arm across his face. He stepped out of the van and slid the door shut.

They stood at the front of the van. “Let me think for a moment.” Joanna lit a cigarette as the rain started again. The wind increased, and the rain pelted them with big drops. The flashes of lightning brightened the dark sky.

“We don’t have a choice,” she said at last.

“What in hell are you saying?” Jefferson growled.

“I am saying your girlfriend is dead, and you will not go to jail for being stupid.”

He looked at her. “Okay, but what does that mean? What do we do? I mean, we can’t leave her here.”

“Push it in,” she said evenly.

“What? Push it in the water? The van?”

“Jefferson, you are not hard of hearing. Push the van down the embankment and into the water.”

“The water? Are you out of your mind? What the hell?”

She reached out and touched his arm. “Listen to me. What’s the alternative? Push the van into the canal and bury this problem before anyone sees us. There’s nothing we can do for Sara. She’s dead. Do it. Now!” she hissed as she flicked her cigarette butt away.

“Mom! You mean leave her in the van? Just like that? Walk away?”

“Jefferson. This is not science. Yes. In the water, walk away and hope this goes away. We don’t have a choice as I see it. What would you tell the police? You accidentally killed your girlfriend because she had your baby? I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t work, would it? You’d spend the rest of your life in jail and destroy all of our lives. You already told me her father doesn’t care where she is; her mother is dead. She has no one else that cares about her but you. Everyone will think she ran away. Now help me do this before your idiot friends wake up. Go on! Move it.”

Jefferson reluctantly agreed with a nod. “Fine. Gimme a minute.” He climbed back into the van and held Sara once more. He kissed her lightly on the forehead, said goodbye, and told her he was sorry again.

He slid through the front seats, placed the transmission into neutral, and then walked to the vehicle’s back. He looked at his mother, who waited, her hands bracing against the van’s back doors.

“Ready?” she said.

“Not really.”

“Push, Jefferson. You can grieve later. We’re running out of time.”

The van moved slowly toward the embankment. Their feet slipped in the mud as they pushed, and Joanna stumbled to her knees. Jefferson continued to push until he was almost waist-deep into the water.

Joanna got to her feet again, wiping the mud from her knees. Her son stopped as the van floated. As water seeped into the vehicle, it tilted and bobbled. He watched as his van descended into the depths of Cold Water Creek.

The top of the van disappeared below the surface, replaced by a large plume of bubbles. As if on cue, the rain stopped. The waters flattened into black silence.

Jefferson continued to stare. Nothing remained but silence as lightning streaked across a western sky.

Joanna tried to remove some of the mud from her hands and wiped them on her blouse. Her whisper was harsh. “What the hell are you doing? Get out of the water and let’s go!”

Steven’s other works…