Molly crouched behind a dumpster, her eyes scanning the Carnival Kingdom's perimeter. Bill joined her, his shoulders bobbing with each glance over the fence. "Hmmph," Bill muttered. "No guards. Yet." Molly nodded, her ponytail swinging. "Kids' parties. No need for security. Parents too distracted to notice." The sky was a sickly shade of grey, and the air reeked of funnel cakes and stale air. Molly wrinkled her nose. Nine-year-olds laughed and shrieked inside, their joyful chaos a stomach-churning prospect. A decorated table read "Amy's Birthday Bash!" in glittering lettering. Tinseled garlands hung from the posts, giving the scene a Disneyland-era meets carnivalesque sheen. "Know what Amy got last year?" Bill asked, fingers beginning to drum against the dumpster's rusty side. "A Lego castle. Total overkill." Molly's eyes narrowed. "Not my concern. What about the presents?" "Guy Post and his crew botched this one last month. Owners changed the catering order, left the whole party in the evenings when we'd prefer them waiting inside." The gate's oversized latch hung loose, as if begging to be picked. Molly shrugged. Bill gram-checked a map of the interior.