I knew where Ian lived, or at least stayed at while he was out of the cage. Sharp Alley was known for its hookers, meth, and the location to buy a gun. 482 Sharp was an abandoned button factory that had been closed for the last four years. Its offices were now used as residences for drug users, hustlers, and down on their luck strays in the city. Homeless people lived in the basement, if they could survive the cold winters.
Ian and a bunch of his loser pals resided on the second floor, which I visited. Tal wanted to come along for the ride, but I knew it was too dangerous and told him he wasn’t tagging along, protecting the man.
The elevator inside the building was nonworking so I made my way up the single flight of steps, which smelled of rat shit and various types of vomit. Once on the second floor I made a right, walked down a narrow and dimly lit hallway, and came to a wooden door. I heard loud country music playing behind the door and cowgirls hooting.