FISCHER: The Case of the Kidnapped Water Softener
Photo supplied, Jen Fischer
Jen FischerWhile enjoying a medium light lemonade on the Upper 40, my brown cocker spaniel at my feet and a snow-white husky standing watch over the valley below, my phone rang with the unmistakable tone of a real estate emergency.
Yes, there are true real estate emergencies. For example, the time when the roofers showed up at my client’s house and refused to let them drop off the roofing tiles onto his driveway until after he went to work … four hours later. Or the time when my elderly client called me at 11:30 p.m. on the night of Christmas to tell me he was out of color flyers for his house. Obviously, “emergency” status is subject to interpretation. This time, however, the buyers were at the other end, and they didn’t sound concerned at all, nor even curious. Instead, they sounded frantic.
“Jen,” one of them shouted, “we need proof of life.” Initially, I was sure that I misunderstood. In most circumstances, that phrase would belong in an episode of Dateline or Forensic Files, not in real estate — unless of course I had walked into a sketchy listing to meet a complete stranger who I hadn’t vetted properly first (which would never happen). In this case, however, the alleged victim was not a person. It was a missing water softener.
When I had first sent my clients this listing to see if they were interested in scheduling a showing, the pictures had included a shot of the utility room. Next to the HVAC unit and sitting right alongside the water heater, appeared a clear picture of a water softener. This same water softener was also present during the initial showing of the property. In fact, it was even there at the time of the final walkthrough the day before closing.
Between walkthrough and move in (roughly 48 hours), the appliance had disappeared. We believe it had been kidnapped. The suspect had been sloppy. There were clues everywhere. In fact, it looked more like the softener had been extracted, like a rotten tooth, rather than uninstalled. The culprit had literally cut what needed cutting and twisted some electrical wires around and walked away without a second thought. Pipes were left open, connections were exposed, and a faint outline of where the softener used to sit appeared like a chalk drawing at the scene of a major plumbing-related crime.
On the very first page of the Real Estate Purchase Contract (REPC), listed in Section 1.1, is an outline of items that are included in the sale unless otherwise specified. The exact language is as follows: “Unless excluded herein, this sale includes the following items if presently owned and in place on the Property: plumbing, heating, air conditioning, fixtures and equipment; solar panels; ovens, ranges and hoods; cook tops; dishwashers; ceiling fans; water heaters; water softeners; light fixtures and bulbs; bathroom fixtures and bathroom mirrors; all window coverings including curtains, draperies, rods, window blinds and shutters; window and door screens; storm doors and window awnings; satellite dishes; all installed TV mounting brackets; all wall and ceiling mounted speakers; affixed carpet; automatic garage door openers and accompanying transmitters; security system; fencing and landscaping.”
While this may seem specific, every single one of these items has likely turned up missing at move-in at some point and the powers that be decided to prevent further lawsuits by including these items so what does or does not stay with the home would no longer be in question. Section 1.3 of the REPC leaves a space to specify any of those items, or any other obvious unlisted items, that would not be included.
In this case, the sellers had either not been instructed on the matter of water softeners, or they had not read through the fine print (and the entire purchase contract is written in fine print). It happens more frequently than one would think.
When does something in a house become part of the house, and when does it become portable treasure? Under Utah real estate law, the dividing line often comes down to the concept of a fixture. A fixture is something attached to the property in a way that suggests it is intended to stay. Clearly that is subject to some interpretation. That is why it has been spelled out specifically on Page No. 1.
The case of the missing water softener was quickly solved. The sellers did the right thing. The kidnapped appliance was returned, professionally reinstalled, and restored to the chalk outline in the basement. All was, once again, well in the world, the pipes were delivering the soft water that was intended.
Later that evening, back on the Upper 40, I finished my medium light lemonade while my cocker spaniel and husky stood watch beside me. The lemonade tasted exceptionally purified and refreshing. Perhaps it was just reminiscent of what a permanently attached fixture can offer.
Jen Fischer is an associate broker and Realtor. She can be reached at jen@jen-fischer.com or 801-645-2134


