“Another math geek? We’ll set Owen up as his keeper when he gets here. I’ll take this one.” He put Harry in a headlock that thrilled the boy to his toes. “He’s not as short as the others. We’ll head over to the gym. I’ll dump the temporary middle over the bakery on the way.”

“Great. Thanks.” As Ryder left with two boys in tow, Beckett turned to Murphy. “We’d better get our tools.”

Murphy smiled, angel sweet. “Our tools.”

Since both men working in the apartment had kids, Ryder figured they wouldn’t let Liam do anything overly stupid. Still, he hung around several minutes, setting the boy up with light switch covers, a small screwdriver.

The kid was about eight, he thought, and had good hands. He also—maybe that middle child thing—had the most devious mind of the three, and the quickest temper.

“You get a buck an hour if you don’t screw up. Screw up,” Ryder told him, “you get zilch.”

“How much is zilch?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t want zilch,” Liam protested.

“Nobody does, so don’t screw up. He gives you grief,” Ryder told his men, “take him to Beck. Let’s go, Harry Caray.”

“I should get more than Liam, because I’m older.”

“A buck an hour,” Ryder repeated as they went down the outside steps. “That’s the deal across the board.”

“I could get a bonus.”

Amused, and a little fascinated, Ryder studied Harry as they walked. “What the hell do you know?”

“Mom gives people bonuses at Christmas because they work hard.”

“Okay, talk to me at Christmas.”

“Am I going to get to use one of those guns that shoots nails?”

“Sure. In about five years.”

“Gran says you’re making a place where people come to exercise and have fun getting healthy.”

“That’s the plan.”

“We have to eat broccoli ’cause it’s healthy, except when we have Man Night, and we don’t.”

“The beauty of Man Night is broccoli is never on the menu.”

“Am I going to measure stuff? I have a tape measure at home Beckett gave me, but I didn’t bring it.”

“We’ve got some spares.”

When they stepped in, Harry stood, all eyes.

With demo complete, they had exterior walls, a crap roof, and a space big as a barn. Saws buzzed, hammers banged, nail guns thwacked as the crew worked.

“It’s big,” Harry said. “I didn’t think it was big, but it is. How come there’s nothing in it?”

Ryder answered simply. “Because what was here was no good. We’ll build what is.”

“You just build it? The whole thing? How do you know?”

Realizing the kid meant it literally, Ryder walked him over to the plans.

“Beckett made them. I saw him. The roof part doesn’t look like that.”