Sofia's warning was confirmed that same night. Leo, who had set up a motion-activated camera near the safe house's back alley, sent me a frantic text. A video file followed.
It was grainy and dark, but clear enough. The black SUV was back. A man got out of the passenger seat. He was older, hair silvered, but his posture was ramrod straight, and his movements were efficient, predatory. He had the same hawk-like nose from Luna's sketch. It was him. Arturo Vega was back in Nasugbu.
He didn't do anything. He just stood there, looking at the shuttered storefront, as if sensing the secrets it held. Then he got back in the car, and it drove away. The message was clear: I'm here. I know your hiding place. The professional had arrived to clean up the amateur mess.