Pictures Show Portland's Accidental Subaru Thief Returning the Car

Erin Hatzi works hard. She is a chemotherapy nurse and has long shifts. Each day she leaves her home in Southeast Portland, gets in her red 2001 Subaru Impreza and heads to work.

So, imagine her anger and frustration Tuesday night when her husband discovered her car was not in the driveway.

"I was crushed," she tells Patch.

The discovery led to phone calls to the police, to the insurance company. Paperwork, reports to be filed. A lot of aggravation.

One bright spot: Erin and her husband have a security system. And they caught the thief in action.

The thing is — it does not appear to be your everyday car thief. A woman walks up to the car, gets in, turns on the engine and sits there for a couple of minutes while the car warms up.

"It seemed very odd," she says. "Not typical thief behavior."

But what were they going to do? Her car was gone, and they would have to move on.

And they did. Until the next morning.

Hatzi's husband was taking out the garbage. Two police officers were in his driveway. So was Erin's car. And a woman was getting arrested.

The woman was trying to explain to police that while she had ended up with the car, she hadn't exactly "stolen" it. It was a giant misunderstanding.

She pointed the officers to the note she was leaving for the car's owner — along with $30 for gas money.

"Hello, So sorry I stole your car," the note said. "I sent my friend with my key to pick up my red subaru at 7802 SE Woodstock and she came back with your car. I did not see the car until this morning and I said, 'that is not my car.' There is some cash for gas and I more than apologize for the shock and upset this must have caused you. If you need to speak further, with me, I am [omitted] and my number is [omitted].

"So so sorry for this mistake."

While the officers were skeptical, the surveillance tape seemed to back up her story. Along with the fact that she did bring the car back. With a note identifying herself. And cash.

Plus, the police say that with some older Subarus, the keys are interchangeable.

The woman was allowed to go on her way. Hatzi got her car back.

"I was pretty angry at first," Hatzi says. "Now I'm relieved and very amused."

Hatzi is a Portland native who is all too familiar with real life stories that make "Portlandia" seem like a documentary, "but never thought I'd be in the middle of it."

She says that while the "car thief" left her name and number, she has not reached out to her to find out about her Subaru's adventure.

"I wanted to give her some privacy," she says, adding that embarrassment probably doesn't even cover how the woman feels.

Hatzi says that while she wasn't happy when she thought her car was stolen, the experience hasn't soured her on her hometown.

"I do like Portland!" she says.

And how can you not? Just ask Paige Cramond. The "car thief."

"I had come by train from Eugene," she tells Patch on Thursday. "I was coming up to Portland to help a friend move."

Cramond lives in Eugene where she is a speech pathologist. She grew up on the Oregon coast before heading to the University of Oregon where she got her bachelor's and then two graduate degrees.

"I guess I'm not the typical car thief," she says.

"My friend needed help moving into a skilled nursing facility after she had surgery, so she gives me her keys and tells me where her car her is and some things she would like me to do."

Cramond heads over to 78th and Woodstock in Southeast Portland.

"I had her keys and figured how hard could it be?" she says. "I find the red Subaru and if the key works, it's the right car."

Makes sense. You would think, anyway.

"So, I get there. I see a red Subaru. The key works. I open the door. Get in the car. Put the key in and it works. Everything going according to plan."

Cramond does some errands for her friend, loads up the car, and goes to pick her up.

"So, I pull up the car and she looks at it and says, that's not my car," she says. "And I say to her, ha. Ha. Very funny."

Her friend was not kidding.

"I was like, Holy... and trying to figure out what to," she says. "I thought maybe we should go get gas and then bring it back, but then I thought it might be a little shady to be driving around Portland in a stolen car... even if it was so that we could get gas and return it."

So, they drove back to where she had "stolen" the car, dropping her friend off at her red Subaru, which was around the corner.

They wrote a note apologizing and left $30 for gas money since they had chosen not to fill it up.

Cramond put the car back in the driveway and started walking away to go meet up with her friend.

"And then I thought, did I leave the lights on?"

So she walked back.

"And wouldn't you know that's when the police officer showed up. He looked at me. He looked at the car. He said, you know that's a stolen car?

"I told him, well, it's a funny story. And I asked him to look at the note in the car."

It turns out the officer had a device in his car that reads license plates, and when one pops up it alerts the officer.

"He frisked me and told me I would have to sit in the back of the police car and at that point it began to sink in what was happening," she says. "I asked him if I was being detained. He said yes."

The officer called for backup. Cramond watched while one went and read the note while the other one talked with the husband of the woman whose car she had "stolen."

"I saw one of the officers laughing as he read the note, and I sort of realized it was going to work out," she says.

The officers checked out the note, checked out the surveillance and figured that as strange as it all was, it made sense.

"And I was told I could go on my way," she says. "Luckily I'm not very scary looking, had a dopey smiley on and a frail woman in another red Subaru backed up my story.

"Another funny thing. The cops said if it ever happened again to not return it but to call the police. Apparently car thieves are often super shady and it's stressful to approach them."

Cramond also says now that she has one car theft under her belt, she's ready to close the door on her thieving ways.

"I mean, all things considered — I did pretty well," she says. "I stole the car. No one got hurt. And I didn't get caught — until, of course, I returned the car.

"It all worked out."

Cramond's only regret?

"I feel so bad about how the woman must have felt when she thought her car was stolen. A few years ago in Eugene someone stole the wheel off my bicycle, which was my only way to get around.

"And I was like who would steal someone's stuff? And I guess it turns out I am that kind of person."

Photo of Paige Cramond courtesy of Paige Cramond

Photos of the note and surveillance courtesy Erin Hatzi