Molly leaned against the dilapidated storefront, eyeing the crowd gathered on Smith Street. "I'm telling you, Bill, this is the one," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The little kid's got a mom who's got connections with the party planner. His dad's got connections to the local toy maker. We can get in, grab all the high-end stuff, and we'll be set for a week. Plus the cash is supposed to be coming in tonight, for old times' sake." Bill nodded, his eyes gleaming with excitement, his fingers drumming fingers against the wall. "Fair or foul," he said, grinning, "I say we go through with it. What's the punishment for being a scoundrel."