Molly paced the length of the bare apartment, her brow furrowed in concentration. Across the room, Bill lounged on the lumpy sofa, fingertips resting thoughtfully under his dimpled chin. The planning session had reached an impasse. "We'll go in through the open window," Molly said, jabbing her finger for emphasis. "I'll rig the window lock so it'll slam shut behind us. There's no escape that way." "Brilliant!" Bill smirked. "They'll never see us coming." "Then we'll distract the adults. I'll tell them a treasure hunt for the kiddos is coming from Santa's elves. Should keep them cordoned off on one side of the ballroom. You'll be 'Spirit Bubbles' the Clown, remember? Keep the rugrats spinning pinwheels or blowing up balloons to keep 'em from straying." "Got it. Best damned clown these snooty snots have ever seen." Bill stood and pretended to polish an imaginary nose with flourish. "Distractors in place, we split up. You rifle through the loot bags while I act as lookout. Our window closes in five minutes." Molly checked her watch. "We're in the clear in fifteenminutes, tops. Look for electronics. iPhones, Kindles, whatever. We're out of there like a flake when the clock hits 15:00. You take the score over the fire escape to the alley. I'll slip out the front with the discarded wrapping. Meet on the side street." "Smooth criminals. Ha!" Bill chuckled. "Betcha never thought you'd stoop this low, stealing right from under mamas' noses!" Molly flashed him a conspiratorial grin. "I don't mind helping out a bunch of greedy kids who have way too much to begin with. A little wealth redistribution, you know?" "Damn straight, sister! Let's get suited up. Kick-off is in thirty." He ambled to the closet to pull out his red jumper. Molly shouldered her bag of tricks and followed, the jingle bells on her Santa cap making cheerful music. A heist this merry could only bring a full stocking...for them.