Molly peered through the hedge at the bouncy castle dominating the suburban backyard. "This is your brilliant plan? Robbing a seven-year-old's birthday party?" "Eight-year-old," Bill corrected, adjusting his fake mustache. "Little Madison Weatherby just turned eight, and according to my sources, her daddy bought her a limited edition American Girl doll worth two grand." "Your sources?" "The mom's Facebook page. She won't shut up about it." Molly watched a clown twist balloon animals for shrieking children. The afternoon sun beat down on her black turtleneck, chosen specifically for this daylight operation despite Bill's protests. "We're really doing this? We're professional thieves, Bill. We've stolen Rembrandts." "Prints of Rembrandts," Bill said. "From that dentist's office, yeah, but still." She gestured at the chaos of children. "This feels beneath us." "Know what's not beneath us? Rent. Which is due tomorrow." Bill pulled out a wrinkled paper. "I've mapped the whole thing. We go in through the side gate, blend with the parents, grab the gift table, and we're gone in ninety seconds." "Blend with the parents? Look at us!" Bill examined their outfits. Molly wore all black despite the ninety-degree weather. He sported a trench coat and fedora. "We'll say we're European," he decided. "That's your solution to everything!" "It's worked before!" "Once! At that wine tasting!" Molly sighed. "What about security?" "You mean Margaret Weatherby and her book club friends? I think we can handle four drunk moms." "They're not drunk." "They will be. That's Janet Morrison's minivan, and she always brings wine in Capri Sun pouches." Molly stared at him. "What? I do research!" A soccer ball flew over the hedge, landing at their feet. A small boy's face appeared through the bushes. "Hi!" he said. They froze. "We're European," Bill announced. The boy blinked and disappeared. "Smooth," Molly muttered. "Look, even if we get in, what then? Walk out carrying wrapped presents while kids are crying?" "I brought garbage bags. We'll look like we're helping clean up." "You brought garbage bags to a child's birthday party. That's not suspicious at all." "Fine! You have a better idea?" Molly considered. "Actually, yeah. You still have that clown costume from the casino job?" "In the car. Why?" "Kids love clowns. Parents trust clowns. Clowns can walk out with anything and nobody questions it." Bill brightened. "That's brilliant! You'll make a great clown!" "Me? This was your idea!" "But you're naturally funny-looking." Molly punched his shoulder. "I meant you, idiot!" "I don't know any balloon animals!" "Then learn! YouTube exists!" They glared at each other as the birthday song began drifting over the hedge. "Cake time," Bill whispered. "All the adults will be distracted. This is our shot." "I can't believe I'm doing this." "Think about Madison's college fund." "She's eight!" "Compound interest, Molly. Her dad's an investment banker." "I hate you." "Save it for after we're rich." Bill straightened his mustache. "Ready?" Molly pulled on pink sparkly sunglasses she'd found in her pocket. "Let's go steal candy from some babies." "Presents. We're stealing presents." "Whatever helps you sleep at night." They headed for the gate.