The van smelled like stale coffee and regret. Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the dashboard while Bill squinted at it through his reading glasses. "So let me get this straight," Bill said, tapping the crayon-marked layout. "We're hitting a seven-year-old's birthday party." "Not just any seven-year-old. This is Maximilian Pemberton the Fourth. His grandfather owns half the shipping industry on the eastern seaboard." "And you think the presents are worth it?" "Bill, these people give Rolexes to toddlers. Last year, some kid at this party got a pony. An actual pony. Wrapped in a bow." "How do you wrap a pony?" "That's not the point. The point is these gifts are going to be worth a small fortune, and they're going to be guarded by nothing more than a balloon arch and a man in a dinosaur costume." Bill scratched his chin. "What about security?" "Two guys. Both currently distracted by the open bar the Pembertons set up for the parents. I've been monitoring their champagne intake for the last hour. They're absolutely useless by now." "And our entry point?" "The bounce house." "I'm sorry, did you say bounce house?" "It connects to the east side of the tent. We go in through the emergency flap, crawl through the inflatable tunnel, and we're right next to the gift table." "Molly, I weigh two hundred and forty pounds. I'm not crawling through a bounce house." "You'll be fine. I brought knee pads." "Oh, wonderful. Knee pads. That changes everything." "Don't be dramatic. Once we're inside, we load up the presents into these bags." She pulled out two large sacks. "I had them custom made to look like party favor bags. No one will question us." "They're covered in pictures of that cartoon dog. The annoying one." "Exactly. We'll blend right in." Bill stared at her for a long moment. "What's our exit strategy?" "The clown." "There's a clown?" "There's always a clown, Bill. His name is Dizzy Pete, and he owes me a favor from the Cincinnati job. He's going to create a distraction at exactly three fifteen. Something involving a unicycle and approximately forty feet of scarves." "I don't want to know what happened in Cincinnati." "No, you don't. While everyone's watching Dizzy Pete, we slip out through the catering entrance. The van will be waiting behind the hedgerow." "This is insane. We're going to get caught by a bunch of sugar-high children and their drunk parents." "Have a little faith. I've planned everything down to the last detail. I even know what flavor the cake is." "Why does that matter?" "It doesn't. I just really like chocolate." Bill folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his seat. "Fine. But if I get taken down by a kid with a juice box, I'm blaming you entirely." Molly grinned and started the engine. "That's the spirit. Now put on your party hat. We've got presents to steal."