Molly squinted through the binoculars at the bouncy castle deflating across the lawn. "Guard's down," she whispered. "Guard? That's a clown," Bill said. "Same difference." Pink streamers fluttered from every surface of the suburban house. A banner reading "HAPPY 6TH BIRTHDAY PRINCESS SOPHIE" stretched across the garage. Bill adjusted his tactical vest, which he'd spray-painted with glitter to blend in. "Precious cargo at three o'clock," Molly noted, watching parents pile wrapped boxes onto a designated gift table. One package was distinctly bicycle-shaped. Another rattled promisingly. Bill pulled out blueprints of the house. Where other heist plans might mark security cameras or motion sensors, his showed the locations of the juice box station, face painting area, and what he'd labeled "DANGER ZONE: Musical Chairs." The petting zoo employee was leading a llama toward the backyard. Molly's eyes lit up. "Thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked. "Create a diversion with the llama?" "Better. We ride it straight to the gift table." Bill considered this. The average six-year-old would definitely be distracted by grand theft llama. He nodded solemnly and pulled two sets of false mustaches from his pocket. If they were going to steal from children, they'd do it with style.