“Don’t you think we’re a little old for this?” Molly asked, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief, even though she was staring at the security camera feed of a brightly decorated party room. Bill, perched on a stack of old phone books, adjusted his glasses and snorted. “Old? We’re seasoned professionals, Molly. We’re beyond ‘old.’” He tapped the screen, zooming in on a chaotic scene of shrieking children and a frantic-looking woman in a clown costume. “Besides, who wouldn’t want to pull off a heist at a kids’ party?” Molly, a twinkle in her eyes, grinned. “You’re right. It’s practically a public service. Those parents probably wouldn’t know how to deal with those presents anyway. All that plastic, all those flashing lights.” “Exactly! We’ll be doing them a favor.” Bill winked. “Now, let’s get to work.” He picked up a pair of bolt cutters. “The first step? We’ll need to disable the clown. She seems to be the only one with any authority here.”