The only marks to Penny’s person were shown in a photograph of her upper extremities, taken after the blood was rinsed off, which revealed quite clearly two oblique, incomplete rings around her wrists, dark brown in color and accompanied by a red band on both sides. The marks were roughly several millimeters in diameter and in the same general location as handcuffs would be applied, so Mitch assumed they were the result of Penny’s arrest.
He remained primarily interested in the viciousness of the wounds, and decided Ruth Whitmore, the facility director at Edgewater, should take a look at the files. She’d been there for quite some time, seen a lot of crazed patients over those years. Perhaps she could offer some insight, maybe an example of another female patient of Penny’s stature who’d inflicted injuries like the ones that had been administered to Rachel’s body.
Before Mitch could take that thought any further, his cell phone rang. The number was one he did not recognize, but when he answered the call, he was only somewhat surprised to hear Grace Francone on the line. She spoke for five minutes before Mitch agreed to her request.
“I’d be happy to meet with your lawyer,” he said.
CHAPTER 16
THE LAW OFFICE OF Greg Navarro occupied two rooms in a former industrial complex in downtown Salem that had been converted into an office park. His tidy, nicely appointed conference room featured views of boats gliding across the slate-gray water of Salem Harbor and seagulls levitating above it in search of a meal.
Grace kept interactions with her attorney to a minimum. Every minute in this office or on the phone with Navarro was a drain to the pocketbook. Soon, the equity line she had secured would run out and Grace might have to mortgage the house, maybe start a GoFundMe campaign or seek donations elsewhere. Whatever it took, she would find the money to pay for Penny’s defense, no matter if it meant baking pies well into her eighties.
“Hello, Grace. Good to see you,” Navarro said, looking dignified in a blue suit, blue shirt combo. “And Dr. McHugh, nice to meet you in person.”
Everyone took seats at the circular conference table.
“So, how are you doing this morning?” Navarro asked.
“Good,” Grace said without elaboration, because it was a much easier answer than the truth. “I think we should get right to it.” She resisted the urge to add that in this case, time was literally money. “Have you given any further consideration to what we discussed on the phone?”
Navarro glanced down at a blank page on his legal pad.
“I have, and I think it’s probably not in Penny’s best interest to pursue it.” His tone was matter-of-fact.
“Why not?” Grace pleaded. “If there was someone else in the house that night, couldn’t it lessen her culpability?”
“In terms of mens rea, a guilty intent, an awareness of a crime being committed, understanding the crime was wrong, then no. I mean maybe we hope for murder in the second. Could be that,” Navarro admitted. “But Grace, there’s no proof your daughter was with another person. None whatsoever.”
“There was other DNA at the crime scene,” Grace reminded them.
Navarro said, “Right. Vincent Rapino, the boyfriend—or the cheating asshole, if you ask Vincent’s wife—but he’s not a suspect.”
“Well, maybe he should be,” said Grace. “After all, isn’t it always the husband or the boyfriend? And Rapino is hardly a saint.”
Grace was familiar enough with Rapino’s impressive criminal resume. A onetime petty thief, Rapino graduated to grand larceny and assault and battery, and even did time behind bars before straightening out （allegedly） to become a car mechanic and small business owner in Lynn. Grace didn’t get the impression he was flush with cash, but Rapino made enough money to keep his paramour sheltered in an apartment rented in his name, which gave them a safe place to enjoy their liaisons.
“What if Vince was there?” Grace said to the faces staring back at her. She pushed on. “Penny went to Rachel’s place and didn’t tell me because Rachel told her not to say anything. That was clear from the Facebook messages they exchanged, and I get it, it’s complicated—birth mother, her mother, it’s a tricky dynamic. Anyway, they’re together in Rachel’s house, reconnecting, doing whatever. Vincent shows up, maybe unexpectedly, and there’s a fight. Maybe he killed Rachel and Penny doesn’t remember any of it. She has no memory of being in the pizzeria when her father died. No memory of what happened to her before I found her in the park. I’m just saying, it’s not such a stretch given her history. If that’s the case, she’d be innocent.”