The wooden door eased open in silence, revealing the man within and for a brief moment, Devin was caught in stunned silence. Standing before her was not at all what she had expected; after meeting Detective Donovan, she had expected a man similar in stature and looks to the stocky cop. Instead she was facing a man with a quiet masculinity and pleasing features. If she had not been happily married, she probably would have been finding herself a little shy toward Dane Kuger. He spoke then, offering for her to come into his home, and Devin nodded while catching how he had not used her correct title. Many did not expect her to have a PhD, but she had thought he would probably do some background digging or assume it when she had told him she was a professor over the phone. She had never been one to correct others for not using it, unlike her colleagues and her parents.<i>You went through Dissertation Hell to get that title; make sure people use it! </i>Her father always told her, proud his daughter had followed his doctoral steps.<br/><br/>“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice,” Devin said with a business-like tone to her voice as she stepped into the room. In all actuality, the private investigator not using her correct title made her a little nervous, simply because it could have meant he did not look into her and might not be as good as Detective Donovan had said. Nerves getting the best of her with that thought in mind, Devin fumbled the ugly file folder she held in her arms while doing a slow turn in the cabin so she could get a grip on her surroundings. She knew it appeared she was taking in the details, but in truth she was searching for any signs of an unstable, psychopathic hermit. No bodies in corners though, no smeared blood or ghastly weapons. Everything appeared normal and tidy, perhaps even impressively so. She detected no feminine touch in the décor, causing Devin to wonder if she had stumbled upon the rare tidy bachelor.<br/><br/>When she completed the turn, hazel eyes were intent on whom she hoped was going to take all the horrible stress and fear out of her life. “I really am grateful you’ve agreed to meet with me, and it was very kind of you to welcome me into your home,” Devin began, the need to be thankful rooted in her from her Southern upbringing. She hesitated then, knowing she needed to be talking about all the problems she’d been having, but she had already done so once that morning and was weary of it. Eyes losing the business-like façade, fear lit in them as she shrugged, “I don’t really know what else to do, to be honest. The police say they cannot help me unless a crime has happened, so I feel like I’m stuck in a loop of getting these messages, living in fear for a few days, then relaxing when nothing happens…only to have another page show up and the cycle to start all over again.” Her words strung together more quickly the further she went on, the stress of going over everything again frazzling the poised professor a bit.<br/><br/>Uncomfortable with feeling so out of control, Devin took a breath and straightened her shoulders before her modestly manicured fingers of one hand tapped against the file folder. Her other hand rose to brush at her dark bangs across her forehead, a nervous gesture she didn't really realize she was even doing. “I’m sorry,” she sighed, offering Dane a weak smile, “I’m nervous and on edge. My husband insisted I go to the police again, which is how I received your phone number from Detective Donovan. How about I show you what I’ve been receiving? And you can decide if there’s anything you can do to help me.”