“They were talking about a shipment to the Sit-n-Swill,” Penelope repeated as she took Rosabel upstairs. Inside the room, Rosabel sniffed the air with a practiced nose. “Uh-huh.” She crossed the room to look under the bed and in the closet. “Pot?” Penelope asked, keeping her tone neutral. “Right.” “That’s what I thought, too. Find anything at the Sit-n-Swill after we left last night?” “Not much.” “I know you can’t talk about it.” Rosabel smiled, displaying a deep dimple in each olive-skinned cheek. Penelope had heard her grandparents were first-generation immigrants from Lebanon and considered that the younger woman’s heritage showcased itself in all the best ways. “Did Bradley or Chief Malone send you over here?” A slight pink illuminated Rosabel’s smooth complexion.
