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shooting in the parking lot.
    Vast
collections of trees, shrubs, and flowers decorated the whole estate.   Giant magnolias dotted the large yard
with their dark, waxy leaves.   Azaleas surrounded the unmanned gatehouse, along with a few of those
long grassy plants common to golf courses and suburban neighborhoods.   Poplars, Bradford pears, and even some
coniferous spruce trees stood in rows in the enormous yard.   More hardwoods lined the driveway on
both sides.  
    “Are
those maples?”   Allyson broke the
silence and the awe in which she had been at the beautiful landscaping.
    “Good
eye,” Sean responded, glad to see she wasn’t comatose.   “I planted alternating varieties so
when the fall colors peaked, there would be a more contrasting display of
color.   There are silver, chalk,
sugar, and my personal favorites, the crimson king maples.  The colors
have started to change, but it will be another week or two before they really
look amazing.”
    “They’re
beautiful.”  Allyson continued to look around as the car sped up the
driveway.
    “I’m
kind of a plant lover.   Worked my
way through college doing landscaping for a local family.”
    “I
think it’s wonderful,” she said with a squinting glance.   Even though she was talking, her voice
was still distant.   Her mind was
probably still replaying the incident over and over.
    “You’ve
killed men before, haven’t you?”  
    He
had anticipated this question and had been pondering what to tell and what not
to tell.   After all, she was a
reporter.
    “Yes.   I’ve killed before.   But only out of
necessity—situations where it was either me or the other guy.”
    “Do
you think about it a lot?   I mean,
ending another human’s life is pretty heavy.”
    “To
tell you the truth, I don’t think about it too much.   I just look at it like it was something that had to be
done.   It’s always been survival.   Nothing more.  When I worked for
the government, it was just part of the job. ”
    She
didn’t pursue the government topic, though she was curious. 
    A
beautiful tan-colored house stood at the top of the driveway.   The two-story Mediterranean villa with
a Spanish-tiled roof was not large by any stretch. It could not have been more
than two-thousand square feet.   She
had expected a grand mansion to accompany such a palatial garden scene.   Instead, the home before her was
certainly nice, but it was humble in a way.
    “Bought
it six years ago,” Sean started again.   “Since I live alone, I didn’t need a big house, but I loved the property
here.   I spend a lot of my free
time out here working.”
    “Gardening?”
    “I
enjoy the work.   There’s something
liberating about manual labor.”   His
reply was honest.
    He
pulled the machine around the back of the house to a large four-door garage
that was behind and below the house.   Invisible from the approach up the driveway, the car house stretched out
perpendicular from the basement and seemed to be nearly half as large as the
dwelling.   When one of the four
wooden garage doors opened, Allyson could see there was another car in the spot
where they were about to park. Then she realized that the garage had doors on
both sides.   Convenient for a person
with a lot of cars to park.   In
Sean’s case, a few cars and many motorcycles.  
    Sean
parked the car, and they stepped out into a small collection of old and new
bikes.   Allyson’s gaze went past
the Nissan Maxima in front of her to at least two dozen motorcycles of varying
types.   There were cruisers and
sport bikes from different eras; Harley Davidson, Indian, Buell, and all of the
Japanese makers were represented.   A few British café style racers sat quietly together as well.  
    “Those
two are my favorite.” Sean read the fascination on her face and acknowledged
the machines with a nod.   “The
Norton and the Triumph.   I love the
raw style those bikes have.   No
fairings.   No tricked-out