Molly pressed her face against the smeared window of the suburban rec center. “Balloon arch at the entrance. Classic distraction technique.” Bill fished a jelly bean out of his pocket. “Are you suggesting balloons are a security measure?” “Distraction, Bill, not defense. While everyone oohs and ahhs, we just waltz in.” He popped the jelly bean into his mouth. “Waltz in wearing what? They’re all wearing animal ears. Do you want tiger or bunny?” “Obviously tiger. Tigers command respect. Kids don’t tackle tigers. Bunnies, though? Sitting ducks.” “Have you noticed the cupcake table’s within arm’s reach of the gifts?” Bill pointed. “I call diversion duty. Sugar rush style.” Molly rolled her eyes. “If you get icing on my loot, you’re finding me a new duffel.” “I’m the king of clean getaways. What’s the security layout?” She counted on her fingers. “One exasperated father, two aunts, a magician. Any of them look spry?” “The magician’s suspiciously limber. I saw him limbo under the balloon arch.” “That could be crucial. He’s probably got sleight-of-hand. Or handcuffs.” “I’m not tangling with a birthday magician, Molly. They’re unpredictable. Remember what happened in Peoria?” She shuddered. “Never mention Peoria.” There was a clatter from inside. “We’re running short on time. Birthday kid’s about to do presents.” “Right, we go in, mingle, blend into the conga line—ninety seconds max—then I fake a sneeze, you swipe the blue bag, I fake a bigger sneeze, you swipe the yellow robot box—” He interrupted: “What if you sneeze too well and they bring you a tissue?” “Then I create even more chaos. Cake in the face. Children everywhere. Parents totally distracted. That’s when you dump presents into my duffel by the window.” “And if a kid grabs onto you?” “Tiger roar. Growl. Assert dominance. Kids scatter. Duh.” “I’m getting nervous. Do the parents bite?” “Only if you eat their cupcakes. Focus, Bill! It’s presents or nothing.” “I can’t believe we planned a jewel heist and now we’re stealing action figures.” “Have you seen current toy prices? This is the big league.” Footsteps approached from the corridor. “They’re rounding everyone up for piñata time.” “That’s our cue. Kids and parents distracted. Presents unguarded.” Bill adjusted his bunny ears. “I’m not ready for the moral weight of this, Molly. What if the gifts are educational?” “We’ll make a donation to a library. Later. After we fence the superhero sets.” He squared his shoulders. “Fine. Operation Tiger and Bunny is a go.” She grinned. “Don’t forget—cake is for chaos, not consumption.” “I’ll do my best. Go break a leg, Molly.” “Thanks, Bill. If I get tackled by a magician, avenge me.” “You know it. Maybe even steal him a birthday present.”