Molly smoothed out the digital map on the tablet, the glow of the screen illuminating the grease stains on her cheek. She tapped the specific coordinates where the open window on the second floor sat like a gaping mouth. "Sullivan's are at the karaoke bar. The playroom is a fortress waiting for us." Bill leaned back in his chair, spinning a pair of stolen sunglasses around his finger, watching them go round and round with hypnotic fascination. He sighed heavily, the sound echoing off the damp walls of their makeshift safe house. "Doesn't look like much. Just a locked door and noise complaints. Plus, I read about a gremlin in their attic." "It's a raccoon, Bill. We're thieves, not janitors. We don't have time for extermination." "Fine. I'll go through the dog door. I'm a black belt." "I'll go through the window. You take the rear guard." "You've got a plan. And a target. How much cash are we looking at?" "Enough for a sports car and retirement in Malibu." "Okay, let's do it. But Bill, don't touch the Lego set."