Holding the receiver away from his head for a second, Dean let out a quiet sigh. This case was so potentially exhilarating, but by the sounds of it, a good portion would be consoling this woman.<br/><br/>"<span style="font-weight: bold">I don't trust myself to leave the house right now</span>"? Dean made a mental note of that, though secretly hoping it meant nothing. What did the woman fear she might do if she left the house? Actually, he'd rather not know. If she was suicidal or planning revenge, he'd rather not know.<br/><br/>Dean swiftly crossed his lounge and turned on his laptop, "Do you think you could travel only a short distance from home?" he queried softly, anxiously tapping his fingers against the surface of his computer. "I make my phone lines as safe as I feasibly can, but all the same, if you believe you're being pursued, perhaps you'd prefer the security of a<span style="font-style: italic">tête-à-tête</span>? A public place of your choosing, of course."<br/><br/>Catching a glimpse of himself in the laptop's black screen as it loaded, he realised he probably ought to have a shave, if he was going to meet a possible customer. And a clean suit. This woman sounded particularly high-strung right now, and it seemed if he wanted her to give him this case, he'd have to make sure he played his role perfectly. The<span style="font-style: italic">saviour</span>role; it was his favourite. An upset, easily-influenced client, in need of assistance - and him, a well-groomed, well-suited, good-looking and charismatic, (<span style="font-style: italic">if he did say so himself</span>) Private Eye, there to save the day.<br/><br/>"I don't charge for consultations. We could discuss your concerns, what my role may be, and of course, I could come with you to report the...crime." he paused, allowing time for his persuasions to hopefully work their magic. "Would you be comfortable with that, Ms Allen? There are alternatives, of course. I pride myself in my versatility, if nothing else. I adhere only to your needs."