Molly pressed her face against the chain-link fence, watching the backyard transform into a unicorn-themed nightmare of streamers and inflatable castles. Somewhere beneath that mountain of glittering gift wrap sat their target: thirty-seven presents, conservatively valued at enough money to cover rent and maybe a decent steak dinner. Bill crouched beside her, adjusting his disguise with the confidence of a man who had never successfully disguised himself as anything. The rainbow wig sat crooked on his head, and his face paint made him look less like a cheerful clown and more like a confused zebra having an allergic reaction. She studied the tactical situation. Two exits, one harried mother with wine-glazed eyes, and approximately fifteen sugar-fueled children who would serve as both cover and chaos. The presents had been stacked near the bounce house, guarded only by a golden retriever wearing a party hat. "You remember the plan?" Molly whispered. "Distract the kids, grab the loot, escape through the side gate." "And if something goes wrong?" Bill patted the balloon animal tucked into his waistband. "I make them a giraffe. Nobody suspects the balloon guy." Molly sighed deeply. This was either their greatest scheme or their most embarrassing arrest yet.