Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the hood of the van, using a half-eaten corn dog and a stapler to pin down the corners. The crayon markings were meticulous, if somewhat artistic. She had used glitter glue for the entry points. "The party starts at two," she said, tapping a purple star near what appeared to be a bouncy castle. "That gives us exactly one hour before the sugar crash hits and the parents start loading kids into minivans." Bill squinted at the map, turning his head sideways. "Is that a dog or a security guard?" "That's Mrs. Henderson. She runs the HOA. Basically the same thing." "And what's this rectangle with teeth?" "The bouncy castle, Bill. Focus." Bill straightened up and crossed his arms. He was wearing all black, which would have been more impressive if it weren't ninety degrees outside and his balaclava wasn't rolled up on his head like a beanie. Sweat trickled down his temple and into his ear. "Walk me through the present situation again," he said. Molly pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper from her back pocket. She had intercepted the party invitation from a mailbox three streets over, which she maintained was reconnaissance and not a federal crime. "The birthday boy is turning seven. His name is Caleb. Based on the guest list, we're looking at approximately twenty-two gifts, conservatively wrapped. Caleb's parents are loaded, Bill. We're talking the good stuff. LEGOs. Remote control cars. Maybe even one of those tablets with the rubber cases." "I do need a new tablet," Bill admitted. "Exactly. Now here's the plan. You go in through the back gate dressed as the entertainment." Bill's face fell. "What entertainment?" "I hired a clown for the party three weeks ago and then canceled him this morning." "Molly, I'm not going in as a clown." "You're going in as a clown." "I have a documented fear of clowns." "Which means you'll be very convincing. Method acting, Bill." He rubbed his face with both hands and let out a long breath that sounded like a balloon deflating, which Molly felt was already very on theme. "Fine. So I distract the kids. Then what?" "Then I back the van up to the gift table during the chaos, load everything in, and we're gone before anyone notices." "What about Mrs. Henderson?" Molly smiled and reached into the van, producing a Tupperware container. She popped the lid to reveal a dozen brownies arranged in a neat grid. "Loaded with espresso. One bite and she'll be reorganizing her entire garage instead of watching the yard." Bill picked up a brownie, sniffed it, and put it back. "This is either the dumbest thing we've ever done or the greatest." "Those two things have never been mutually exclusive for us." He couldn't argue with that. He never could. He pulled the balaclava down over his face, realized he couldn't breathe, and pulled it back up. "Get the clown nose," he said. "Let's do this."