I went down to the Somerset house today, the one we recently evicted our inherited tenants from, in an effort to get some photos to list it for rent. It’s not quite there yet, so I punted on the photos. We have a fantastic handyman doing the final touch-ups, and I love him, but I wish he had another guy to help him move a bit faster.
Since I was there I asked Joe, our handyman, if he’d like to come take a look at our next couple projects since they’re just down the road. He obliged.
Our first stop was The McCarty house and, to my surprise, upon entering the back door, all four burners on the gas stove were on full blast again. There was also a mattress on the floor in the dining room that definitely wasn’t there before.
I went outside to check the garage to know more, recalling that my locksmith had said, “Ha, there’s a car in the garage!”, when we were there changing the locks. I hadn’t bothered to look at it, mentally blocking out that PITA (it’s not easy getting rid of an abandoned car, apparently) for the meantime.
The car was gone. I guess that was the good news.
Whoever was crashing at the house (I had a feeling it was Ms. McCarty’s son), was getting in through an unlocked window in the back of the house. That was evident by the five-gallon paint can that was sitting just below it.
It was trash day, so we got rid of the bucket, locked the window, and I had Kaitlin text Ms. McCarty alerting her that the next time we found someone in the house we’d be having the police come to pick them up.
She had, “no idea” what was going on over there (of course!), but hopefully that’s the last we see of anyone.