Molly pressed her back against the fence and peered through a knothole at the chaos unfolding in the backyard. Streamers dangled from trees, balloons bobbed in clusters, and approximately seventeen sugar-fueled seven-year-olds screamed with the intensity of air raid sirens. "This is your brilliant score?" Bill whispered, crouching beside her. "A kid's birthday party?" "Not just any party. Little Sophia Carmichael's party. Her parents are the Carmichaels." Molly raised her eyebrows meaningfully. "Am I supposed to know who that is?" "Tech billionaires. They just launched that new cryptocurrency thing. These presents aren't Lego sets and stuffed animals, Bill. Think solid gold toy cars, diamond-encrusted dollhouses, probably a pony wearing a Rolex." Bill squinted through the fence. "I see a piñata shaped like a unicorn." "Obviously a decoy." "It's leaking Tootsie Rolls." Molly waved dismissively. "The good stuff's on that present table by the gazebo. See that enormous box wrapped in gold paper?" "That could literally be anything." "It's opportunity, Bill. Opportunity wrapped in fourteen-carat dreams." She checked her watch. "The clown arrives in eight minutes for his forty-five-minute set. That's our window." "Wait, what clown?" "Zippy the Magnificent. I checked their event schedule on the family calendar app. Amateurs left it public." Bill rubbed his temples. "So your plan is to waltz into a backyard full of witnesses during a clown performance?" "Everyone will be watching Zippy. We'll blend in, grab the high-value targets, exit through the side gate." "Molly, we're thirty-four and twenty-nine years old respectively. We won't exactly blend with the elementary school crowd." "That's why I brought disguises." Molly unzipped her backpack, pulling out two party hats and stick-on mustaches. Bill stared. "You can't be serious." "Would you prefer the balloon animal costume?" "There's a balloon animal costume?" "I came prepared for multiple scenarios." Molly affixed her mustache and party hat. "How do I look?" "Like a thirty-four-year-old woman wearing a party hat and a mustache." "Perfect. Exactly like Sophia's weird Aunt Bernard." "That's not a thing." "It is now." Molly straightened her shoulders. "Look, last week you said you wanted to get back to basics. Small jobs, low risk, quick turnaround." "I was thinking unlocked cars, not grand larceny at a seven-year-old's celebration." The sound of accordion music suddenly blasted from the backyard. Children shrieked with delight. "That's Zippy's entrance music. We're on." Molly adjusted her mustache one final time. Bill sighed deeply, accepting his party hat. "If we get arrested, I'm claiming you kidnapped me." "Deal. Now remember, if anyone asks, you're Uncle Kevin from Minneapolis." "Why Minneapolis?" "Too far to verify." Molly grinned. "Trust me, Bill. By this time tomorrow, we'll be drinking champagne and fencing luxury toys to specialized collectors." "Or eating prison cafeteria meatloaf." "That's the spirit. Now let's go steal some presents."