Run: 2026-09-23-01M36SCEQXSP77CGNTCHWC250M

The blueprints were spread across the kitchen table like the scattered remnants of someone's dinner party, except these were architectural renderings of the Henderson birthday celebration at 742 Maple Drive. Molly circled the back porch with a red marker while Bill nursed his third coffee of the afternoon. "Twenty-three kids," Molly said, tapping the guest list. "Plus a pony. That's a non-human liability I didn't anticipate." "A pony?" Bill leaned forward. "What kind of neighborhood does these people live in?" "The kind where a six-year-old gets a pony instead of a bicycle." Molly slid a photograph across the table. "Open house at three. Cake cutting at four. Present opening at four-fifteen. That's our window." "How many presents are we talking?" "At least thirty. Probably forty. These people don't do anything small." Molly paused. "Each gift bag is worth a minimum fifty bucks. Estimated total haul: two thousand dollars in merchandise." Bill scratched his jaw. "And we walk in dressed as?" "Clowns. The party's already hired a clown, so we'll blend right in." "We'll be the third clown." "Exactly. Nobody counts clowns, Bill. That's the beauty of it." Molly pulled out a second photograph showing the layout of the Henderson living room. "Presents go in the corner by the sliding glass door. We stage near the buffet, load up the van through the back, and disappear before anyone finishes their juice boxes." "What about the parents?" "There'll be at least eight of them standing in clusters talking about school districts. They won't notice two more adults in clown makeup handing out balloon animals." She paused. "Do you know how to make a balloon animal?" "I took a class in prison." Bill didn't elaborate. The kitchen clock ticked above them. Molly began packing the blueprints into a manila envelope and slipped the marker into her jacket pocket. "If one kid starts crying, we use the distraction. If two kids start crying, we need a contingency." She looked at him. "I've got a contingency." Bill produced a small firecracker from his shirt pocket. "Absolutely not." Molly took it. "I'll just throw candy." "Where are you getting the candy?" Molly held up a bag of assorted lollipops from the pantry. "The Hendersons, as it turns out, have a party supply cabinet. I visited their housewarming last year. Got the code for the back door, too." "You planned a housewarming robbery that never happened and used it as practice?" "I like to be thorough." She locked the envelope in a drawer and turned back to him. "Saturday, three o'clock. Black van with the band decal on the side. No face paint until we're around the block." "You trust this plan?" "I trust nothing, Bill. That's why we've got a second exit route through the Hendersons' basement, a get-go time of four-thirty sharp, and a man on the roof in case anything goes sideways." She put on her jacket. "This is the cleanest job we've ever done." "You're making me nervous saying that." "Good. Nervous keeps you sharp. Now help me tape up these blueprints. I don't want the kids seeing their own present list rearranged."