The coffee shop was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the espresso machine and the occasional clink of a spoon against ceramic. Molly drummed her fingers on the table, her eyes darting from the door to her watch and back again. Bill finally sauntered in, fifteen minutes late, sliding into the seat across from her with a broad smile. "You're late," Molly hissed. "Sorry, traffic was murder. Plus, I was casing the neighborhood. You know, doing actual preparation for the job." Bill reached over and stole a bite of Molly's muffin. Molly swatted his hand away. "So? What's the situation with the Henderson kid's birthday party?" "Goldmine." Bill leaned forward, lowering his voice. "We're talking at least thirty presents. High-end stuff too. These are Westside parents trying to outdo each other. Gaming consoles, tablets, designer clothes. One kid's bringing a drone." "A drone? For a six-year-old?" "Seven. And yes. Rich people, Mol. Different species entirely." Molly sipped her coffee, considering. "Security?" "Minimal. Just the usual suburban setup. Back door will be unlocked during the party with all the kids running in and out to the bounce house." "There's a bounce house?" "Focus, Molly. Yes, there's a bounce house. There's also a cotton candy machine, a magician, and a small petting zoo." "Jesus," Molly whispered. "For a seven-year-old?" "I told you. Different species." Bill grabbed another piece of her muffin. "The presents will be in the living room. Parents usually dump gifts on a table and then go drink mimosas in the kitchen." "How do you know so much about children's parties?" "I have nephews. Lots of nephews." Molly narrowed her eyes. "You don't have any siblings." "Fine. I watched YouTube videos of kid's parties. Research, Mol. It's called research." "So what's the plan? We can't just walk in." Bill grinned. "Actually, we can. I've got us jobs as part of the entertainment." "What? No. No, no, no." "Yes, yes, yes. You're now a face painter, and I'm your assistant." Molly leaned back in her chair. "I can't paint faces." "You've got two days to learn. I've got us the outfits and everything." "This is ridiculous. We're not actual clowns, Bill." "Never said clowns. Just... colorful assistants to the party. We do our bit, locate the presents, and when everyone's watching the magician pull a rabbit out of something, we make our move." "And how exactly do we get thirty presents out unnoticed?" "Already handled. I've got a catering van. We're delivering the cake, remember?" Molly shook her head. "This is insane. We're stealing from children." "Rich children who'll get replacement gifts within twenty-four hours. Come on, Mol. Easy money." "Fine. But I'm not wearing a red nose." "Wouldn't dream of it." Bill stole the last piece of her muffin. "Although the rainbow wig is non-negotiable." Molly glared at him. "I hate you." "You love me. And you'll love your cut of the haul even more."