Sitting down and hearing the private investigator assure her he would be putting an end to the torment she’d been suffering relaxed Devin considerably. It was likely not physically obvious at first, she still sat straight in the wooden chair, her hands resting on her knees and her focus solely on Dane, but in her mind she was swimming with relief. Finally, someone who was agreeing something was wrong; finally someone who was saying they could put an end to it. It even made Dane removing the letters from the folder to study easier; before the very sight of them had made her stomach churn. It still wasn’t a pleasant sight for her, but Devin was more interested in how he reacted to them than how creepy they were. There was intelligence in those surprisingly blue eyes and she could see how methodically he looked over each origami piece until one of them caught his eye.<br/><br/>Those eyes continued to be somewhat of a point of fascination for her. Perhaps it was the coloration, reminding her of her husband’s own blue eyes, or maybe it was the way he assessed the situation and scrutinized all she had brought to him. Whatever it was, and Devin was leaning heavily on it being the latter, she could feel hope already beginning to replace the hopeless…until he mentioned how difficult it would be to hear something. Devin’s expression shifted to one of unease all over again when he pointed out how hard all of it would be for her and James. “Whatever your fee is, consider it paid,” she interjected as soon as he mentioned payment, knowing she would happily pay whatever it was for freedom from the invisible shackles the letters seemed to have placed on her.<br/><br/>The question of who could be leaving her notes was one Devin had already answered with the police on two separate occasions. Before she had answered in frustration; with Dane it felt as though she was going to disappoint him. It was a dead end in her mind; his investigating was going to have to dig in another direction. A simple raise of her shoulders was at first her answer before Devin sighed and leaned back in the chair, shaking her head as her gaze escaped his to travel the room. “That could be what’s most frustrating about all of this,” she muttered, pursing her demurely painted lips together, “I haven’t a clue who it could be. My husband and I have been together for over three years and he’s the only serious relationship I’ve had since moving to the Northwest. I doubt someone would have followed me from New Orleans and waited so long, plus my relationships have always ended amicably.” A small, wistful smile tugged at her lips.<i>Diplomatic Dev</i>, her sister had called her when her relationships hadn’t ended in shambles, though it was always said with a level of exasperated admiration. Alden had rarely been so lucky.<br/><br/>“As for students, I’m very…reasonable,” she tried to explain before her eyes widened and shot back over to meet Dane’s, “Not to say I’m an easy professor, far from it. But I also have a background in psychology. My students are rarely an issue when it comes to discussing grades and achievement.” She also tended to avoid confrontations as much as possible, but Dane didn’t need to know. He just needed to understand she was extremely doubtful a student was behind the notes despite what the police thought.<br/><br/>“The police think it’s a student,” Devin pointed out, sitting forward to reach out and tap a modestly manicured nail against the bag of one of the notes, “I suppose given where the notes have been found, it makes sense, but…” She hesitated before shaking her head, “That just seems too easy. Yes, they were found in places my students could be. The bat was in my lecture hall, I found the wolf on my desk in my office, and the flower was on my car. But…well, I think whoever it is did that on purpose. They’re steadily getting closer and closer to more private parts of my life. Like he’s taunting me. That paired with the natures of these letters leads me to think this is someone older than a typical college student. There’s sophistication here.”<br/><br/>She was shifting into a more comfortable position, one where she could teach and share her thoughts, and it relaxed Devin from the wound up mess she’d been when she stepped in. Her features became less flummoxed and more candid, her hazel eyes even daring to connect with Dane’s blue ones more often. “Take how he’s leaving me these letters—and I say 'he' because you and I both know the stats with stalkers,” she reached out to bring one of the letters closer so she could survey it while she spoke, “I think he knows my specialization is in psycholinguistics and that I know how to read people based on what they write…so he’s using words written by someone else to convey a message. Therefore instead of being able to rely on his thoughts on paper, I’m having to interpret them through another medium.”<br/><br/>Devin paused, a smile hinting on her lips, “I knew it was<u>Dracula</u>already and I had also been thinking he might be identifying as The Count. What I’m not sure about is whether that makes me Mina or not…but I also worry if that’s the case, he could begin seeing my husband as Jonathan Harker and begin targeting him as well. I don’t know…and that’s why I’m here…I just don’t know what to do about it.” Resting an elbow on the tabletop, Devin propped her chin up on her hand and gave Dane her full attention, gaze nearly pleading, “That’s where I’m hoping you come in. My husband wants me to stop going to work and that’s out of the question. I won’t let this derail my life, but…it’s beginning to make me feel paranoid. I’m afraid to be alone and that’s something I very much enjoy. So I just need to know what we can do.”