Antonia can tell Beaumont is uncomfortable. Dealing with the gang over the phone is one thing, having to talk to them face-to-face is another. He minces around with a phony smile and flapping hands like he’s worried they’re going to track mud on his carpet while a costumed servant named Tommy passes out drinks.

“You shine the man’s shoes too?” Bob says to Tommy.

“I’m Monsieur’s driver and houseman,” Tommy replies, picking up an empty glass.

“Ooh la la,” Bob says and turns to Pedro. “You want Tommy here to bring you anything?”

“Got any more beer?” Pedro says.

“Hop to it,” Bob says. “Fetch the man a beer.”

At 11 p.m., an hour before Jesse and the others are supposed to arrive, the Fiends go out to the garage, where they’ll wait to make their entrance. Yuma sits on the floor next to Real Deal. She draws her revolver, swings out the cylinder, and spins it.

“There was a little man who had a little gun, and his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead,” she chants. “He went to the brook and saw a little duck and shot it right through the head, head, head.”

“What’s that?” Real Deal says.

“Something my mama used to recite.”

Johnny farts.

“That’s something Johnny’s mama used to recite,” Bob says.

“Quiet,” Antonia says.

She’s sitting on her Harley, the gasoline fumes in the garage making her nauseous. Elijah is straddling his bike, too, arms crossed over his chest. His wristwatch has glow-in-the-dark numbers, and after a while everyone’s staring at them, mesmerized.

The sound of an approaching car gooses them out of their reverie. They drop to the floor as headlights flash through the little window in the garage door and sweep across the ceiling. Doors slam, someone tells someone to comb his hair, and a girl laughs. The new arrivals go to the porch and ring the bell. Beaumont lets them in.

Another half hour passes, during which the Fiends hear singing, muffled conversation, and Beaumont calling for champagne. Their pistols are out, their knives ready. One of them knocks over a broom, and the crack of the handle hitting concrete is as loud as a gunshot, but the party inside continues.

The overhead bulb finally flashes three times, the signal for them to come inside. Antonia opens the door to the living room, and one by one they slip through.

Beaumont, Jesse, his brother, and the girl are sitting at the table on the patio. The Fiends glide like black smoke to their positions behind the glass sliders, passing Tommy as he hurries for the front door. At a sign from Beaumont, they all step out onto the patio at once.

An hour later those of them still alive are back at Bull’s, sitting at the picnic table again and passing the tequila as they piece together what just went down.