Thursday's Child by Teri White Page B

hair styled. There was no denying that the headmaster of Paynor Academy was an impressive-looking man.
    Gar felt a little guilty that his visit was serving to ruffle that magnificent facade, at least temporarily. It wasn’t altogether clear whether Thorn was more concerned over the fact that one of his students was missing or over what that fact might mean to the reputation of his school. The only saving grace seemed to be that Beau Epstein had vanished after school was officially out for the summer. That might help keep Paynor blameless. Keeping Paynor’s image clean—which really meant keeping Derek Thorn clean—was clearly the top priority here.
    Gar’s biggest concern at the moment was how to get comfortable in the damned plastic chair he’d been waved into. Even though it was made of plastic, that didn’t mean the chair was a Kmart Blue Light Special or anything like that. The molded black poly-whatever was actually a very trendy item. As a work of art, it was probably okay. As a piece of furniture for actually sitting in, it was a disaster. After struggling in it for several moments, Gar gave up and just resigned himself to being uncomfortable. He rested the cane across his knees and hoped that he’d be able to get up when the time came.
    Thorn was waiting for him to speak.
    â€œI was surprised to find you here when I called,” Gar said. “Don’t you get the summer off?”
    Thorn shook his head, an act which disturbed not a single hair on his head. “Many of our students benefit from additional educational opportunities during the vacation period,” he said.
    â€œRemedial classes, you mean?”
    He admitted that with a reluctant nod. “Was Beau Epstein enrolled for the summer classes?”
    â€œYes. Although his grades were excellent for the short time he was here, his grandfather thought that he might best use the summer to improve his socialization skills.”
    â€œWhat can you tell me about Beau?” Gar shifted his butt a little, so that everything wouldn’t go absolutely numb.
    Thorn frowned. “We do our best with all the students at Paynor,” he said. The words sounded as if they came from a canned speech. “Many of them live what might be termed stressful lives.”
    Gar wasn’t sure that “stressful” was the word he would use. Most of them were spoiled brats. But he also knew that it could be very hard having everything in the world except a pair of loving, attentive parents. He realized, maybe better than most, that a lot of these kids were orphans in all but actual fact. Beau, of course, was the real thing. “How did he fit in with the other students? Given his pretty unique background, I mean.”
    â€œThere were problems, naturally. He simply wasn’t, how shall I say it, accustomed to the way of life here.”
    Gar could only imagine. “Did he make any friends at all?” That was the one piece of information conspicuously missing from the notes Epstein had given him. Usually the parents of even the most wayward youth could provide at least a few names to be pursued. But not this time.
    Thorn was looking increasingly uncomfortable. “Well, as to that,” he said, “unfortunately, I can help you very little.” He made a pyramid of his fingers on top of the desk. “Young people have their own fairly rigid social structure. An adult authority figure like myself has a very difficult time penetrating its walls.”
    Gar thought it was pretty funny that Thorn seemed to think of himself seriously as having any real authority over the student body at Paynor. To the kids, he’d be willing to bet, this fool with his brass buttons was nothing more than a clown. A figure of ridicule, not authority. “Do I have your permission to speak to some of the students on campus?”
    Thorn frowned again. “Well, ordinarily I wouldn’t be terribly comfortable with that.