Kit shook his head, then paused.
Wayland read his expression. “What?”
Lips compressed, Kit thought, then said, “Yesterday, after I left here in the afternoon and was walking with Sylvia along High Street, she felt the eyes of the watcher again.”
Wayland glanced to where their teams of carpenters were hard at work on the new hull; the incessant hammering would drown out his and Kit’s conversation. Puzzled, Wayland said, “I thought it was Johnson watching her, wanting to speak with her.” The big man was holding one of the huge ribs in place while two of the others hammered nails into its base.
“That’s what I’d put the sensation down to, but yesterday, Johnson would have been here with Ned. It couldn’t have been him.” Kit slid his hands into his pockets. “I’d already started wondering if the watcher’s real target all along was me. Me and this place. And unlike Sylvia, I’m oblivious to his surveillance.”
Wayland’s eyes widened. “You think he started watching Sylvia after seeing her with you?”
Kit nodded. “The timing fits. She first started sensing him after we’d been walking together around town for several days.”
“Hmm.” Wayland looked as troubled as Kit felt. After a moment, Wayland glanced at the men, then tipped his head toward his office.
Kit followed his partner into the relative quiet and shut the door.
Wayland put the chain on his drafting table and turned to Kit. “We’ve got to put a stop to this. I don’t like the fact he—whoever he is—is stalking your Miss Buckleberry any more than I imagine you do.”
“Indeed.” Kit’s tone was terse. “We have to catch the bastard—preferably red-handed.”
“What about the authorities?” Wayland asked. “Should we report this?”
Kit considered, then shook his head. “What can we tell them? That someone broke in here on Monday night and caused minor damage. That earlier on Monday, I glimpsed a man who might have been watching the workshop walking away down an alley I was passing. And that on several occasions, Sylvia has sensed someone watching her, but when she looks, he stops, and she and I have searched but failed to spot anyone paying her undue attention.”
Wayland grimaced. “Put like that, I agree—there’s no sense in involving the magistrates.” He paused, then said, “Whoever he is, he’s tested our security.” Wayland waved at the chain. “That was what last night’s visit accomplished. He’ll be back, and I imagine that, next time, he’ll bring the right tools to pry open the padlock.”
Kit nodded. “There’s no other way into the workshop other than through those doors—and there’s no lock that’s impossible for a determined man to pick.”
“Precisely.” Wayland stared at the chain. “But he won’t know we know he’s been back—that he’s still trying to break in and wreak havoc. I only found the evidence because Jack, with his sharp eyes, spotted the scratches. I doubt anyone else would have.”
“All right. We agree he’s going to come back,” Kit said. “When?”
Grimly, Wayland said, “Either tonight, Saturday night, or Sunday night. Why wait? The sooner he can hit us again, the more damage he’ll do to our business.”
Kit nodded. “Which night will probably depend on how urgent he feels his need to attack us is.”
Wayland met Kit’s eyes. “We need to set up a watch.”
Kit stared at his friend while he thought, then said, “Given we don’t know who this blackguard is—what his past association with us is or why he’s targeted Cavanaugh Yachts—then I suggest we don’t involve the men.” He refocused on Wayland’s eyes. “Not until we know what this is all about.”
Wayland nodded. “I agree. Especially as neither you nor I have a clue what the man’s motive is.”
“Also, judging by the damage he did last time, it seems he’s acting alone, so the two of us should be sufficient to the task.”
Wayland grinned. “Quite like old times.” Then he sobered. “You don’t think he’ll hire others to help him?”
Kit thought, then shook his head. “What he’s doing is illegal, and the damage he alone can do will be sufficient to cause us major problems. Why invite witnesses?”
Wayland conceded with a tip of his head. He started gathering up the chain. “So we’ll start our watch tonight.”
Kit hadn’t forgotten the concert. “There’s an event I have to attend this evening, but I’ll return here after that. I doubt I’ll be much later than ten o’clock.” More was the pity, but he’d accepted that, with Sylvia, there was a definite limit to how far he might advance that night.
Wayland had placed the chain on the floor and was looking at a diagram. Distractedly, he said, “I can’t imagine our blighter will make a move before that.”
“Indeed.” Kit bent and picked up the chain. “I’ll take this out to the door, then come back. I want to go over the deck plan again.”
Without taking his eyes from his sketch, Wayland gave vent to a chuff of frustrated agreement.