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building.”
    Waiting while he dealt with the lock and swung the door open, Rylee and the dogs went in first. They moved deep into the empty warehouse. A thin layer of dust coated the floor and windows. The stuffy odor of disuse hung in the air. Brian stood by the door, his hands on his hips.
    “It’s a clean slate.” His voice echoed off the high ceiling. “Tear-out costs will be minimal. The square footage is right and the structure is solid.”
    “And the asking price?”
    “A little steeper than I’d be willing to offer, but after being empty for years Rip is anxious to sell. He is serious about his admiration for the foundation. He’s giving us a first shot before he puts it on the market.”
    He removed the sunglasses and his pale, blue gaze scanned the ten-foot ceiling.
    “Bottom line?”
    “Bottom line is we’ve looked at a lot of properties and this one has everything we’re looking for. Unlike the occupants of our first two buildings, a couple of names on the list will need permanent access to the medical community. The VA is less than a mile away. Sil is working on a partnership with the medical center around the corner. The location is perfect. If Rip is willing to meet our price, this would be my choice.”
    Rylee glanced around the large warehouse space. Its purchase would take the foundation into new territory. Rehabbing the first two buildings hadn’t been cheap, and the purchase and rehab of this one would come close to swallowing the rest of her initial investment. If Adam’s House was to continue its mission, they were going to have to step up the fund-raising—starting with next month’s event. But the investment would be worth the cost. Twenty deserving families could find a home here.
    “Make the offer.”
    She shrieked when Brian crossed the distance on a steady stride, scooped her up in his arms and spun her around in a dizzying circle.
    “Adam would be so proud of you,” he said when he let her feet touch the ground.
    She pushed out of his arms as both Pippin and her well-behaved Belle danced about them in excitement. “Quit it. You’ll make me cry.” She pointed at Pippin. “And that one freaks out when people cry.”
    “Rylee Pierce never cries.” He grinned, tapping a finger to her nose while studying the moisture in her eyes. “She just mists.”
    “Damned straight,” she agreed. Tagging along after Adam and Brian all those years taught Rylee to be tough and Ponzi Pete’s little girl couldn’t afford to show any kind of weakness.
    “Have you eaten lunch?” he asked, leading her out the door and locking it behind them. She cast a pointed glance down at the dogs and he grinned. “There’s a deli right around the corner. They have patio seating. We can test the pea brain’s patience.”
    “Pippin doesn’t have a pea brain,” she cooed, rubbing the dog’s ears. Brian cupped her elbow and started them in the direction of the deli, then hung back to let a group of teenagers pass by. When he stepped to her side again, she added, “And don’t say things like that. You’ll hurt his feelings.”
    “He doesn’t understand a word I say. You’re the only one around here who can talk to animals.”
    “We don’t really talk to each other, I just understand them and they understand me.”
    They rounded the corner and approached the deli’s outside seating. She dropped her outstretched arm then flicked up a palm. Without a word from her, both dogs dropped to the ground beside an open table.
    Brian looked from the dogs to her, his smile wry. “Whatever you say, Ms. Doolittle. Pastrami, rye, right?”
    Rylee licked her lips. “Mmm. Provolone, pickle, mustard.”
    “Be right back.”
    Five minutes later, they were sharing lunch beneath a blue and white striped umbrella. At her feet, Belle accepted the occasional notice of a passerby with her usual calm, while Pippin, whose sheer size tended to create a stir, required an occasional reminder to stay put. For an