30
Richie and Shay stood outside Ethan Nolan’s Filbert Street apartment building early the next morning. It was cold; both men were miserable from not having had enough sleep, but also ready to do what needed to be done.
As soon as Nolan stepped out the door, they each took an arm and whisked the bank’s data operations manager into Richie’s big BMW, a car he rarely drove except to take Carmela places from time to time. Shay got in the backseat with Nolan while Richie drove to an older building in a poor, not yet gentrified area off Third Street. Nolan tried to question them, wanting to know what was going on, but neither Richie or Shay gave him any answers.
They pulled him from the car and led him through the empty building to a small room with nothing but a computer, printer and desk.
