Molly pressed the binoculars against the minivan window and whistled low. "That's a lot of balloon arches for one six-year-old," she said. "Focus. How many adults at the perimeter?" "Three moms by the bouncy castle, one dad grilling hot dogs, and a clown. Bill, they hired a clown." "I hate clowns." "Everyone hates clowns. That's why he's perfect cover. Nobody wants to look at him. We go in through the side gate while he's making balloon animals." "And the presents?" "Giant table, east corner, under a tablecloth that says Princess Sparkle Adventure. Must be thirty boxes piled up there." "Thirty? These kids are spoiled rotten." "That's why we're performing a public service, really. Building character through loss." "You're a philosopher, Molly." "I'm a realist. Now, you distract the dad. Ask him about his grilling technique. Men can't resist that." "What if he asks me to stay for a burger?" "Then you stay for a burger! Buy me time!" "And you'll grab the presents?" "I'll load them into the wagon. They've got a little red wagon just sitting there. It's like they want us to rob them." "This is almost too easy." "Those are famous last words, Bill."