The air in the van tasted of stale coffee and regret. Under the flickering glow of a map light, a crude diagram of a suburban backyard was spread across a greasy pizza box. Bill, using a half-eaten breadstick as a pointer, traced a jagged circle around a colorful drawing of a bouncy castle. “The primary obstacle,” he declared with theatrical seriousness. “We need a strategy for the bouncy castle.” Molly didn’t look up from sharpening a butter knife with a whetstone. “We are not breaching the bouncy castle, Bill. We are going around it. It’s a children’s party, not Fort Knox. Focus.” “But it’s a choke point! All traffic flows through there. One overzealous seven-year-old and the whole operation could be compromised. I saw it with my own eyes, Molls. Little Timmy from two doors down took out three kids and a poodle last summer.” “Timothy is not the target,” Molly said, her voice dangerously calm. “The presents are the target. The payload. According to my intel, it’s approximately forty percent LEGO, thirty-five percent plush unicorns, and the rest is a grab bag of poorly conceived science kits. We’re in, we grab, we’re out. Simple.” “What about the cake?” “We are not stopping for cake, Bill.” “It’s a triple-chocolate fudge layer cake, Molly. With sprinkles. That’s a morale booster.” “The only morale I’m interested in is the morale of our bank account when we fence these unicorns. Now, what’s your role in this? You’re the distraction.” Bill puffed out his chest. “I am. I’ll be ‘Barnaby the Baffling Clown.’ I’ve got the nose, the squeaky flower, the whole works. I’ll have them so mesmerized with my balloon-animal prowess, they won’t even notice you stuffing gift bags into a duffel.” “Clowns are creepy, Bill. You’ll terrify the hostages.” “They’re not hostages, they’re guests! And Barnaby is more whimsical than creepy. I’ll focus on poodles. Kids love balloon poodles.” He pulled a bright red foam nose from his pocket and stuck it on his face. “See? Harmless.” Molly finally looked up, her expression flat. “Fine. You be the clown. You get in, you create a diversion at the piñata—that’s the go signal. I’ll slip in through the side gate by the hydrangeas. We meet back at the van in ninety seconds. If you’re late, I’m leaving you. And if I see one speck of sprinkle on that duffel bag, you’re walking home.”