Joe,
It's a matter of trust, isn't it?
You trusted:
someone opened the gate for you.
you were in the right house.
the dog wasn't a man killer.
the cars outside didn't belong to robbers.
whoever opened the gate wasn't Freddy Kruger.
the people who can home later were in fact the owners.
They trusted:
you were in fact a piano technician.
you didn't rob them blind.
you didn't eat their cookies.
you'd bill them accordingly, including hazardous duty pay.
Seriously, even though it's 90 miles, I'd leave a note and bill them for the time/mileage. What if something HAD happened while you were there? What if you'd found robbers or a body or whatever . . .
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