Seconds marched on in blurred succession, and Dane witnessed a transformation in the woman who had sought him out for assistance. What was a scared and nervous victim revealed herself to be smart and decisive. Was the aura and sanctuary of Dane's fidelity the cocoon that prompted her metamorphosis? The analysis that Devin offered brought the sharp clarity of her mind into the limelight, displaying cogent logic and piercing perceptions. It wasn't often than a client came to Dane with the mental apparatus of a super-computer. The professor proved herself much smarter than Dane could ever hope to achieve, but such was the nature of people. Everyone was different; everyone exhibited some aspect that came as either unique or more easily graspable. For Devin, she seemed to benefit from both an intuitive understanding of psycho ... well, whatever it was that she taught. She also seemed to be adept at piecing together strands of information and placing them in abstract array against one another. These qualities made for an excellent college professor, possibly even a keen investigator. Dane, on the other hand, lost out on being blessed with anything resembling a unique skill. He had failed many more things than he won. If anything, his distinctive trait was the wisdom accrued by having endured all of those failings. His father once told him that you learned more from your mistakes than successes, and although Dane found himself prone to disagreeing with everything his horse's ass of father postulated, he had to agree that not winning taught you things that groomed pampering could not.<br/><br/>Dane wondered if that was Devin's single flaw – that she likely had followed a single track all her life and succeeded at every narrowly planned, contingency-abridged step along the way. Dane would never give a lecture in some fancy University hall, but he'd tangled with local drug lords, grumpy and psychotic wilderness men, and the blistering danger of automatic weapons. Being alone in every way for his entire life – a condition not alleviated while serving in the Police force – imparted a scathing practicality: Dane could not afford to make certain mistakes, and the severity of such circumstances erased any trace of fancy from his soul. Dane didn't think that Devin was careless, but he did consider her potentially sheltered. Dane knew his judgement was probably unfair, but could he afford to be wrong? He wondered as much when the certainty of Devin's proclamations rang out. Her thoughts, however bright, struck Dane as missing some element of reality – she assumed far too much for her own good, or at least for Dane's comfort.<br/><br/>The bulk of Devin's explanations involved admissions that were deeply personal. Dane felt as if it was difficult for Devin to speak of the danger, her worry, the impact it had on her inner world – a beautiful realm that (he felt) very few people ever had the privilege of experiencing. In their shared moment, Dane realized that he played the role of an assuring presence, as the woman's behavior and mannerisms came to life from the dormancy of despair. When she graced him with views of her hazel eyes, Dane felt his core wobble in the face of a kind and beautiful soul in true distress. Dane swallowed and concentrated on Devin's words and thoughts, which began to focus on the impact the origami notes were having on her lifestyle. Dane took in a fortifying breath, and he started to deliver what he felt was the best approach for the afflicted Devin Fontenot.<br/><br/>"Ms. Fontenot," Dane began with professional humility, "I need to state that, in my mind, I have two jobs. The first and most important is keeping you safe ... the second is finding this wacko. Your participation in both of these is crucial, and I'll always be honest with you." Dane paused and let this words settle in. "In every situation, there are tangibles and intangibles – of the tangibles, there are variables and constants. We want to collect as many constants as we can, because that will point us toward whoever is harassing you with these folded pages. We then want to convert as many variables as possible into constants. The more we know, the better chance we have of finding this individual." Dane paused again, only continuing when he commanded Devin's full attention. "What we<b>don't want </b>is to presume or imply constants when they cannot be confirmed. There's a term we use in investigation called "pre-determination," where someone who's supposed to be impartial conditions themselves to find what they expect. Confirmation bias, right? This individual<i>may be</i>a male ... but, we don't know that. This individual<i> is likely not</i>a student ... but, we don't know that. My job is to suspect everyone and search every option until it proves a dead-end. I refuse to gamble with your safety."<br/><br/>"But, we should discuss protection. I can understand your husband's viewpoint, though I disagree with it completely." Dane wondered what Devin's reaction would be to voicing an accord with a strategy that seemed to rail against common sense. "This individual has demonstrated persistence. So, if you create a bunker and never come out, they've won and they know that you are acting against them. Nothing infuriates these types than to be ignored, right? All the effort he/she is exerting is so that you<i>pay attention to them</i>. Going about your daily life will mean they will continue their pathetic tactics and<b>that </b>is how we will catch them. Until then, however, I'd advise that you exercise due caution at all times. Don't be alone for extended periods of time; certainly, don't isolate yourself outdoors; consider a security system for your home that can alert you of unauthorized entry."<br/><br/>Dane let his words sink in. He knew what needed to be said next, and he expected that Devin might not appreciate it. "Another option is to exercise your Second Amendment rights." The highly educated woman was, most likely, a staunch liberal who believed freedom grew on trees and was distributed to people without the blood from war and sacrifice. Owning a gun was part of being an American, plain and simple. All of his past clients owned some sort of weapon Dane felt – people just radiated that practical understanding of what it took to survive in the Northwest. But, Devin described herself as hailing from New Orleans: a notorious, liberal enclave. Dane didn't wish to make the woman feel uncomfortable, but he hoped that the husband was man enough to own a pistol. "Washington State enjoys open carry laws, but you might want to get a concealed pistol license, just to be on the safe side."<br/><br/>He ended that part of the discussion, wanting to end his spiel with a note about prosecution. "You and I are both in a struggle with this individual, Ms. Fontenot. From this point forward, we are keeping you safe and collecting evidence. Without evidence, the legal system cannot prosecute them to the fullest extent of the law. If you find another origami message,<b>don't touch it</b>... it's covered with fingerprints. Pack small Ziplock bags in your purse and contain it for future analysis. Your university should be concerned about random individuals having access to a professor's private office ... I'd image they have research secrets best kept from prying eyes. I'm going to start there and see if there is any security footage. Here ..."<br/><br/>Dane produced a calling card from a side drawer. The paper was solid, though unpretty – the product of an earnest man on a modest budget. "Here is my cell number. If I find anything, I'll contact you. But, if YOU find anything, call me. If you feel threatened, call me. I'm at your disposal, alright?" A silence gripped the air between them, the earnest emotions he espoused tugged the memory of his sentiments like a pall gravity. Insisting that she might need to call him implied that she might have reason in the future, or that her husband might not be up to the challenge.<i>Doesn't matter</i>, he thought: Nothing invoked strength like assurance of numbers. It might have been a false security, but it was the best he could offer while he searched for the mysterious stalker.