On November 9, 2003, an open house took place in Kalamazoo, Michigan. At 5.05 p.m., the realtor of the property,

Kelly Todd Brewer, was getting ready to call it a day. The open house had started at two.

Kelly, 41, was a veteran realtor at the time.

Five people came through her open house, and by the end, Kelly had lost track of time,

her mind drifting, as she caught up on her work and wrote an advertisement for another listing.

Right after she realized what time it was, another potential home buyer unexpectedly appeared.

This guy came in.

And so I stood up, I greeted him.

And he was wearing sweats.

So he was wearing like, you know, zippered up sweatshirt and then sweatpants. And, you know, like he'd been out for a run or walk or whatever. Actually, he was on a bike. The man asked if he could come through and see the

house. Kelly said yes. My first impression was he was very tan, very well groomed, wore a lot of cologne. I tried to get him to sign in. He did not sign in for me.

Kelly showed off the house. She learned the man's story. He was chatty. He talked about owning a home for sale on Bronson Boulevard, but he didn't like his realtor.

He lived with a girlfriend or wife, Kelly wasn't sure which, who was pregnant.

The man did the grand tour, saw the bedrooms upstairs, the bathrooms.

Then he went into the basement, which had been remodeled to have a rec room, plus your typical basement stuff, like a water heater and a furnace.

I wasn't following them through the house. I don't, at open houses, you don't do that. You just let people look.

And if they have a question and they call you to, you know, say, you know, what can you tell me about this?

You go and you, you know, you answer it.

While the man checked out the basement, Kelly cleaned up the refreshments and got her materials to go home.

And then another group, a trio, arrived to see the house.

They stayed briefly. Kelly spoke to them, and then they left.

But the man was still there. Now he had more questions.

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