Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCQQM1REWYGC75M53H5ZDCG

"The way I see it," Bill said, unrolling a napkin across the diner table, "we go in at fourteen hundred hours, when the piñata drops." Molly stared at the napkin. "That's a map of a bouncy castle." "It's a *floor plan*, Molly. Note the ingress and egress points." "It's got one hole. It's a bouncy castle with one hole." "Which is precisely why we don't use it." He tapped the napkin with a fork. "We come through the hedge. The Fitzgerald hedge is privet, badly maintained, and provides eleven feet of visual cover from the patio. Mrs. Fitzgerald has not trimmed that hedge since the divorce." "How do you know when she got divorced?" "I read the newsletter." "There's a newsletter?" "There's always a newsletter." Bill leaned back, satisfied. "Now. The presents accumulate on a folding table beneath the gazebo, northwest corner. Last year there were thirty-one. Given the boy has since joined the swim team and thereby broadened his social portfolio, I estimate forty." "Forty presents," Molly repeated. "Bill, we stole a Bentley in March." "And we couldn't move the Bentley because you kept driving it to brunch." "It was a nice car." "It was *evidence*, Molly, and you got egg on it." He smoothed the napkin. "Presents are untraceable. No serial numbers. No paperwork. Pure, gift-wrapped liquidity." Molly picked up her coffee, put it down again. "What's in a present for a nine-year-old boy? Genuinely. What's the resale on that?" "Video games. Sneakers. Gift cards, Molly. *Gift cards*." "Okay, that's not nothing." "That's a fence's dream. That's currency with a cartoon dog on it." "And the parents? There'll be, what, twenty adults standing around drinking white wine out of plastic cups?" "Which is why we need a distraction, and this is where you come in." Bill slid a photograph across the table. Molly looked at it for a long moment. "That's a llama." "That's Bartholomew. He's rented." "You rented a llama." "I rented a llama *legitimately*, with a deposit, using a name that does not exist. Bartholomew arrives at fourteen hundred and five for the petting-zoo portion of the festivities. Bartholomew is going to become extremely upset." "Why is Bartholomew going to become upset?" "Because you're going to be wearing a hat." Molly closed her eyes. "I don't like where this is going." "Bartholomew has a documented history with wide-brimmed sun hats. It's on his rental form under 'behavioral notes.' Two lines. Underlined." "So a llama goes berserk, twenty parents chase a llama, and I'm standing there in a hat." "You're *running* in a hat. Toward the hedge. And while every adult in that yard is watching a llama pursue a woman in a sunhat across a slip-and-slide, I am loading forty presents into a wheelbarrow decorated to look like a rustic photo prop." Molly was quiet a while. "You've decorated a wheelbarrow." "Burlap and sunflowers. It's tasteful." "Bill, I want you to hear how this sounds." "It sounds like eleven hundred dollars of gift cards and a genuinely festive afternoon." She sighed and reached for the photograph. "What size hat are we talking about?"