Missing at 17

by Christine Conradt

  As Candace and her mother sat at a window table of a coffee shop near the police station, Candace finally asked her mother the question that had come and gone in her mind for the last week and a half. She’d been so preoccupied with everything, including helping Toby’s aunt Patricia plan a funeral for both Toby and Keenan, she hadn’t thought to ask it. “Mom? When I was staying with Toby, how did you find me?”

  Her mother exhaled and set her cup down on the wooden table. “Well . . . the first night, Andrew and I called around to all your friends and we drove around the neighborhoods looking for you . . . then, after you were picked up by the police and ran off the second time, I got Toby’s old address from the police report. I went there, but Toby’s ex-girlfriend—at least I think that’s what she was—wasn’t much help.”

  Candace looked down, feeling guilty as she listened to the effort her mother went through. “Then Andrew had the idea of printing off all the numbers you called from your cell phone, since our plans are all connected, and we started calling them. That led me to the private investigator.”

  “You talked to him?”

  “I went to see him, actually,” her mother said, sipping her latte. “He didn’t want to give me any information but after I threatened to turn him in to the police for aiding a runaway, he changed his mind and gave me Vance’s address. Callie didn’t know where you were, but she figured Vance would, and so I went to talk to him at the garage and he said he’d just sent the tow truck over to get your car, so that was where we figured we’d find you.”

  Candace gazed at her mother, duly impressed and touched. “Wow. That was a lot of work.”

  Her mother thought about the comment for a moment, then gave her a warm look. “It’s what mothers do for their kids. Someday, when you have your own children, you’ll understand.”

  “I hope my kid’s not a pain in the ass like I am,” Candace said, grinning, trying to make her mom smile.

  “Karma,” her mother said, returning the grin and raising an eyebrow. “Maybe you should rethink having kids after all. . . .”

  “You’re probably right.” Candace laughed. It was the first time since she’d lost Toby. “But then the question becomes what did you do as a teenager to deserve a kid like me? Come on, ’fess up. Your karma’s not so great, either.”

  Her mom giggled and then turned serious once again. “Really, though. You’re both good kids. I’m pretty lucky as a mom.” As soon as she heard those words, Candace felt a wall between them crumble. She’d never connected to her mother in this way before. As she looked around the coffee shop at all the people lost in their laptops and books and cell phones, she no longer felt like the outcast—the adopted kid who didn’t know where she belonged. She belonged here. Her family was hers and they weren’t perfect, but whose is? And maybe she wasn’t as difficult to love as she’d believed.

  Nineteen

  A World Without

  “We need more balloons,” Andrew said as he carefully tied a bouquet of shimmery green mylars to the back of a lawn chair. It was Candace’s eighteenth birthday and four months to the day that Toby passed away.

  “I think that’s enough, don’t you?” Candace asked, and gave her little brother a smile.

  “Balloons are going to make this party,” Andrew announced.

  “Huh? I don’t even understand what that means,” she quipped as he disappeared through the patio door. Candace sat back and looked at the festive decorations set up around the backyard. There was a banner that read Happy Birthday, Candace and several tables with green tablecloths and little vases of white flowers.

  Although Candace was happy to be celebrating her birthday with the people she loved, there was one very important person missing. She wished Toby could be with her right now, helping her mother set out the bowls of chips and side dishes, helping her father with the barbeque. She pictured him standing over the coals, laughing and talking to Vance as they cooked up the hot dogs and burgers. The time she’d had with Toby had been so short that she’d already cycled through the memories of things they’d done together a million times. To keep him alive, she had to picture him in situations he’d never take part in and with people he’d never had a chance to meet.

  Candace looked over at Andrew, who was coming out the patio door with more balloons. Where did he get them all? He was followed by her mom, who brought out a beautiful white sheet cake iced with buttercream frosting and adorned with green and yellow flowers. As her mother set the cake down on the table, Candace walked over to check it out.

  “That’s gorgeous, Mom,” she said, wrapping her arm around her mother. In fancy script lettering Happy 18th Birthday, Candy was written across the top. Candace stuck her finger into the icing near the bottom and licked it off.

  “Really, Candy?” her mom said, joking.

  “Hey. It’s my day, I can do anything I want,” Candace joked back. When she saw her mother raise an eyebrow she decided to qualify it. “Within reason, of course.”

  “Happy birthday, honey!” They turned to see Kurt step out with a wrapped box.

  “Dad!” Candace said as she gave him a hug. “I thought you had to work.”

  “I told them there was no possible way I could miss my daughter’s special day, so they canceled the flight,” her father said with a grin.

  “Did they really?” Andrew asked, intrigued.

  “No, sweetie,” her mom said. “Don’t you know your father’s sense of humor by now?”

  Andrew smacked his hand against his forehead, causing Kurt to laugh.

  “Seriously, though, Dad, I’m glad you made it. It’s a nice surprise.” Candace was happy that her father had joined them for her birthday party. He hadn’t done that since he moved out. She knew her parents would never get back together, but maybe they’d put some of their differences behind them the way they did when they joined forces to try to find her. Although Candace still felt bad for putting them through all that, maybe this could be the silver lining. They could move forward, at least a little.

  Andrew took the gift from their father and shook it. “What do you think is in here?” he asked Candace with a gleam in his eye.

  “Whatever it is, I hope you didn’t just break it,” she teased, taking the box away from him.

  “I didn’t,” he assured her.

  “You already know what Dad got me, don’t you?” As soon as she said it, Andrew covered his mouth and laughed conspiratorially. “Maybe I’ll have to pin you down and tickle the crap out of you until you tell me. . . .”

  Andrew made a cross with his fingers, holding it up to her as if shielding himself from a vampire. “Stay back!” he yelled, and ran back into the house.

  “He takes after you,” their father said jokingly to Shannon as he grabbed the apron from the picnic table and slipped it over his head, ready to start up the grill. Candace laughed as her mother grinned and shook her head. For a few joyful moments, Candace was in the present, her mind far away from the loss of Toby.

  As her parents went back inside to get more food, Candace received a text from Avery: Sorry I’m late. On my way now! it read. Candace smiled.

  Get your ass over here now! Candace typed back, and followed it with a winky emoticon.

  She laughed when she got Avery’s response: Take it easy, birthday bitch.

  “Let’s get this party started!” She turned to see Vance come out through the patio door holding hands with Monica. Her other hand loosely held a pink gift bag with a white bow that matched her white spaghetti-strap dress.

  “Vance! Monica!” Candace first hugged Vance and then threw her arms around Monica’s tanned shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

  “Happy birthday!” Monica said, and lifted up the gift bag. “Where should I put this?”

  “I’ll take it,” Andrew announced as he snatched it from her hand. He hurried over to the gift table and set it down with the others that he’d already painstakingly arranged.

  It felt surreal to see Vance and M
onica at her parents’ house. As her mom came out and offered everyone something to drink, Candace quietly observed their interactions. Since Toby’s death, everything had felt so thin and hollow. Even though the police had caught and arrested Dawson, Candace couldn’t manage to feel enthusiastic about anything. She’d returned to school, sleepwalked through her classes, and felt pretty much empty most of the time. Today was the first day she actually felt happy. Happy that her new brother and his girlfriend were forming connections with her mom, dad, and Andrew. This strange family of hers was coming together. They were all getting to know each other and she was at the center of it.

  “There’s a surprise coming,” Vance whispered into Candace’s ear with a grin. She gave him a perplexed look until she saw Callie step through the door. She was wearing a new blouse and matching skirt, her hair was clean and pinned up, and she balanced a dinner plate with a homemade, albeit a bit uneven, chocolate cake. Candace gasped, shocked to see her there.

  As Callie looked around uncomfortably, Candace’s mother greeted her warmly and led her over to the table where the green-and-white cake already sat. Shannon inched it over to make room for the small, homemade cake Callie had brought.

  “I should’ve guessed you’d already have a cake,” Callie said, regretful. “And look how beautiful it is, too.” Callie’s cake was far from the spectacular bakery cake Shannon had ordered. Candace presumed Callie’s came from a box you buy at the grocery store, but she was still elated to have it there.

  “I’m glad you brought chocolate,” Shannon reassured her. “This one’s vanilla, so now everyone has a choice.” Candace smiled, appreciative that her mother was going to the effort to help Callie feel at ease. She’d been so welcoming of Vance and Callie into their lives. It meant a lot to Candace. Since the day Toby died and Candace moved back home, things had been different between them. Instead of seeing all the things in her mother that she also hated in herself, she saw a completely different person. Her mom had gone through hell to find her. What determination that took, Candace thought. How much do you have to care for someone in order to do that?

  Candace had thought that maybe her mom would try to dissuade her from hanging out with Vance and Callie but she hadn’t at all. She’d invited them over for dinner a few times, even though Callie never accepted. Vance, on the other hand, happily showed up each time with a bottle of wine and ate seconds of her mom’s cooking, sometimes thirds. Andrew was always impressed with how much Vance could eat.

  Candace was shocked that Callie actually showed up. When she’d invited them, Callie had originally told her that she wouldn’t be there. Candace wasn’t sure why she’d changed her mind. It didn’t matter. Candace gave Callie a warm hug.

  “I’m so happy you decided to come,” she said. Callie smiled shyly.

  “Me too” was all Callie said as she went to twirl a lock of hair, but realizing it was all up in a pin, she quickly wrung her hands.

  “I have something to show you,” Vance whispered to Candace. She noticed that Andrew had pulled Monica over to the very back of the yard near the fence and was pointing out something that probably wasn’t very interesting in the grass.

  “I know what it is,” Candace said, excited, and motioned for her brother to follow her inside.

  In the kitchen, Vance pulled a tiny box from his pocket and opened it. Inside was a beautiful solitaire engagement ring. Candace clapped softly, trying to contain her giddiness.

  “When are you going to do it?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said nervously. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “I’m telling you! The top of the Ferris wheel at the Santa Monica pier. It’ll be awesome. Oh wait! No! You should win her a stuffed animal or something and then have it in the bear’s mouth or something.”

  “What if I don’t win anything, though?” Vance said with a chuckle. “I can’t stand there all night trying to knock down cups and stuff.”

  Candace laughed. “Do you suck that bad?”

  “Nerves,” he explained.

  “Okay, okay,” Candace said. “The Ferris wheel is your best bet.” Candace turned in time to see Andrew and Monica walking toward them. “Hide it! She’s coming in!”

  Vance quickly tucked the ring box back into his pocket before Monica could catch a glimpse of it.

  “Your mom said she needs you to bring napkins out,” Monica said sweetly.

  “Got ’em,” Candace replied. She grabbed the napkins and headed back out to the party with Monica and her two brothers.

  Looking at the cakes side by side, Candace felt complete for the first time in a long time. She had two mothers, two brothers, two families, and eighteen years after her birth, they had finally come together. Most people see their eighteenth birthday as a celebration of their arrival into adulthood, Candace thought as she gazed over at Callie helping her mother with the iced tea, Vance tossing a miniature football to Andrew, and her dad chatting with Monica behind the smoke of the grill. The end of being a child, and the start of an adult life with freedom, new opportunities, and responsibility. Weird how everything changes so fast. In the last year as a “kid,” she’d lost herself, found love, lost someone she loved, gained a new family, and finally found herself all over again.

  As difficult as it was to remember how it felt to lie in Toby’s arms, their time together, though short, would always be with her. In the days after his murder, she’d driven several times to his quiet house and just sat in her car, staring at the crime tape that stretched across the door. She’d closed her eyes and imagined it the way it had been a week before when it was full of people, full of life. Part of her found it hard to accept that she could never open that front door and see Toby sitting on the sofa, playing poker with his cousin and drinking a beer. None of them, herself included, would ever set foot in that house again. Those memories had become woven into her, stamped on her soul like a tattoo.

  Toby’s life may be over. But mine is just beginning. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was that life is fragile. She vowed to make every day count and treat the people she loved with care because they could be gone in the blink of an eye or the sound of a gunshot. Her quest to find Callie had started with the need to find herself. But I already know who I am, Candace realized. I’m the person I choose to be. The past didn’t matter. What mattered was how she was going to take what she learned and move forward. Candace wasn’t sure what the future held, but she no longer felt lost. She no longer felt like a child. She felt like a woman. And whatever the future brought, she was ready.

  About the Author

  Photo by Jenn James

  Originally from Nebraska, CHRISTINE CONRADT moved to Los Angeles at eighteen years old to attend the University of Southern California, where she obtained a BFA in screenwriting. She worked briefly in development before making a name for herself as a screenwriter, producer, and director. Focused on writing thrillers and crime dramas, Christine went on to receive an MA in criminal justice from Boston University. She has penned more than sixty movies, which have aired on USA, Lifetime, LMN, Fox, and Showtime. She is the primary writer behind some of Lifetime Network’s most successful franchises, including the At 17 series. When Christine is not writing or directing a film, she enjoys traveling and has been to sixteen countries throughout North and South America, Europe, and Asia. She resides in Los Angeles with her husband and their two rescued cats. Visit her online at www.christineconradt.com.

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  Books by Christine Conradt

  Missing at 17

  Pregnant at 17

  Murdered at 17

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  HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

  MISSING AT 17. Copyright © 2018 by Christine Conradt. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

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  Cover photography by wazzzzo / Getty Images

  Cover design and lettering by Jenna Stempel-Lobell

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017959280

  Digital Edition MAY 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-265165-5

  Print ISBN: 978-0-06-265164-8

  1819202122PC/LSCH 10987654321

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