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Just When I Thought I was Safe – One dreary afternoon …I found myself alone on an estate appraisal that would have made Alfred Hitchcock’s imagination run wild. My client was a slightly older than middle-aged gentleman who had lived alone with his mother. She had died almost a year earlier but her slippers still sat eerily in place by the side of her bed. His boyish bedroom seemed frozen in time from 1945. Shortly after inspecting his collection of figurines, which were seamlessly glued back together after being severed at the head, he asked me to go with him to the basement to appraise some furniture stored there. With trepidation, I followed him into the dark cellar, my cell phone gripped tightly in the palm of my hand. I couldn’t help but think of Tony Perkins in “Psycho.” Thankfully there was no one down there waiting for me in a rocking chair, but I still wondered that evening how much water damage would be done to my bathroom if I showered with the curtain open.

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