Mommy's Little Girl

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Mommy's Little Girl Page 12

by Diane Fanning


  A little later, Caylee wandered out to the balcony overlooking the lake. Maria followed her. Casey didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her daughter. Caylee pointed out the birds she saw.

  Maria asked, “Have you seen any alligators out there?”

  Caylee shook her head making her ponytail fly through the air.

  Clint stuck his head out and told Maria it was time to leave. She knew she couldn’t just leave Caylee in such a dangerous spot, but was amazed that Casey was oblivious and trusted the care of her little girl to strangers. Maria made sure Caylee was safely inside before she left.

  On Wednesday, June 11, despite Casey’s anxiety over her relationship with Tony—or maybe because of it—she changed her social networking pages to include Tony Lazzaro as her boyfriend. Then, she sent Christopher a text message: “Hey! What’s up? Where have you been? Have you checked Facebook or MySpace? I’ve been dating somebody.”

  Tony, Casey and Caylee went to the Mall of the Millennia in Casey’s car that day. Casey and Caylee went shopping while Tony promoted his hip hop showcase on Friday at Fusian. When he finished handing out all his fliers, they met up, and Tony treated them to a late lunch/early dinner at The Cheesecake Factory.

  Casey dropped Tony off at his apartment and drove off with Caylee. Tony never saw the young girl again.

  On Friday, June 13, Casey was supposed to drive Amy to Jacksonville to pick up a car to replace the one she’d totaled earlier that month. Amy texted Casey shortly after 6 A.M. to make sure her friend was awake.

  Casey responded immediately, writing that she was on her way to the hospital with her dad. She added that she would let Amy know what was up as soon as possible. While Amy waited, she looked into alternative ways of getting to Jacksonville.

  Amy’s phone signaled that a text message had arrived. She read that Casey’s dad had had a mini-stroke. She typed back, “Honey, don’t worry about it. Take care of your family. I’ll get myself up there. Don’t worry about it.”

  Amy, driving up in a rental car, got a call from Casey while she was on the road. Amy said that Casey perpetuated the story of her father’s health crisis and chatted about her increased use of marijuana since she’d started spending more time with Tony. Then Casey invited Amy to join her at Fusian Ultra Lounge in the Waterford Lakes area that night. Amy declined—the music wasn’t to her taste, and it wasn’t the kind of place where she thought she’d have any fun.

  In the month of June, Casey was seen often at Fusian. That night, she met Tony at his place and rode with him to the hip hop party. She sent a mass text message out to all her male friends to promote Tony’s showcase: “You guys should definitely come. $5 cover, super hot shot girls, a hot body contest.” It was the first time Casey had slept until morning in Tony’s bed.

  Throughout that week, tempers flared between Casey and her mother. Neighbor Jean Couty was mowing her lawn when Cindy stepped out of her home with Casey on her heels. Casey screamed at her mom. Cindy responded, but never raised her voice. She got into her car and drove away.

  Jean was outside washing her car when she witnessed another unpleasant event. Casey burst out of the house screaming again. “Just shut up, Mom! I don’t want to hear it anymore!” Cindy said nothing, she just hung her head down as Casey heaped on the abuse. Casey turned away and headed out for a jog around the neighborhood.

  On Father’s Day, June 15, Cindy took Caylee to visit her great-grandfather at the nursing home. Caylee ran up to Alex and jumped into his arms. While Cindy and her father talked, Caylee played. Nursing home employee Karen Angel approached the little girl and said, “Hey, cutie. Tell me your name.” Caylee blushed from shyness.

  “Can I have a hug?”

  Caylee reached up to Karen, who picked her up in her arms. Caylee laid her head on the woman’s shoulder, content. When Karen set her back down, Caylee said, “Bye.” To Karen she appeared to be a very happy little girl.

  After their visit, Cindy and Caylee went up the street to visit Cindy’s mother. Shirley made chili and cornbread for dinner. Thinking Caylee might not like it, she fixed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for her great-granddaughter.

  Caylee tasted the chili and liked it, but ate very little and barely touched her PB & J. An over-indulgence in popcorn at the nursing home had left her without much of an appetite. She spent much of her time during her visit playing with her great-grandmother’s cat. Shirley could watch that child forever. Caylee’s sunny disposition brought a lot of joy to her life. She could never remember seeing the little girl upset about anything.

  Casey’s early childhood friend, Ryan Pasley, was in town that weekend and Casey was supposed to meet him at his aunt’s house on Sunday for a family cookout. Ryan was in contact with her all day by phone and text. He kept expecting her to arrive at any moment, but she never made it.

  Cindy and Caylee took a swim in the pool after returning home. When they finished, Cindy removed the ladder and locked the gate. Cindy confronted Casey that evening, slapping down one photo after another that she’d printed off the Internet—shots of Casey at the no-clothes party. “You’re at work? Huh? I watched Caylee that night so that you could go to work.” She told Casey she was an unfit mother and threatened to obtain custody of Caylee.

  According to the story Lee shared with a friend, the fight had escalated from screaming into physical confrontation. Cindy, he claimed, had wrapped her hands around Casey’s throat and squeezed.

  On June 16, at 12:50 in the afternoon, Casey sat down in a La-Z-Boy recliner next to her father. “Hey, I’m gonna be working a little late. Caylee’s gonna be staying with the Nanny. I’ll see you and Mom tomorrow afternoon. I’ve already talked to Mom. Mom knows I’m gonna be staying over.”

  “Okay, just be careful and . . .” George said.

  Casey cut him off. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Wearing a pair of gray pin-striped slacks and an off-white top, she walked out of the house with her daughter. Caylee looked adorable that day, dressed in a blue jean skirt, a pink top and a pair of white sunglasses. Her hair was pulled back in a perky ponytail and she wore a white knapsack, decorated with monkeys, on her back.

  It was a memorable impression of the little girl. Unfortunately, it was the last time George ever saw his granddaughter—the brightest light in his trouble-ridden life.

  THE CRIME

  “The truth does not change according

  to our ability to stomach it.”

  —Flannery O’Connor

  CHAPTER 20

  A Note to the Reader

  Under United States law, a person is presumed innocent until proven guilty, and Casey Anthony has yet to be tried by a jury of her peers. What follows is merely the author’s recreation of what might have happened, if the charges against Casey are true. This recreation is based on the author’s analysis of the law enforcement forensic evidence, the medical examiner’s autopsy report, and other available information. Casey Anthony’s movements during the critical period were documented by the pings from her cell phone. Time frames are estimates, based on evidence and interview statements.

  After Casey left her parents’ home with Caylee on Monday, June 16, 2008, she hovered around the neighborhood as she waited for her father to leave for work.

  She returned to 4937 Hopespring Drive when the house was empty. Caylee raced to her bedroom and changed into a pair of striped shorts and a tee shirt proclaiming: “Big trouble comes in small packages.”

  The police found evidence that three months earlier, someone using Casey’s computer had conducted internet searches for chloroform recipes. Police believed that person was Casey, and now was the time to put that knowledge to use. Assembling the materials needed would not have been difficult—pool chlorinator, a bottle of acetone, a glass container, and lots of ice. She would have also needed an abundance of caution to avoid inhaling any of the escaping vapors.

  When the process was complete, it would have been easy to persuade Caylee to inhale the sweet-
smelling fumes. It would not have taken many whiffs to render the small girl-child unconscious. When she was out and unable to defend herself, multiple layers of duct tape were wrapped around the little girl’s mouth and nose and into her hair to ensure that she never awoke from her chemically induced sleep.

  Law enforcement suspected Casey carried the limp body to the bedroom where the red heart sticker was placed on the tape over her daughter’s mouth. Then, Caylee was wrapped in her Winnie the Pooh blanket, slid into a waterproofed canvas bag and stuffed into a black plastic garbage bag.

  Then, in this scenario, she carried the delicate bundle out to her car and placed it in the trunk. Mission accomplished, she drove to Tony Lazzaro’s apartment, where Tony would have been unaware of Casey’s actions or of Caylee’s whereabouts.

  Ironically, records indicate that the couple went to Blockbuster that evening and rented two videos: Jumper, about a 5-year-old child abandoned by her mother, who masters teleportation; and Untraceable, about a kidnapper and killer. Casey remained at Tony’s all night.

  Casey drove back to her parents’ empty house on Tuesday. Normally, Casey pulled straight into the driveway and parked outside of the garage. On this day, she backed in, raised the automatic door and parked with the rear-half of the Buick hidden from view inside the garage.

  Neighbor Brian Burner was in his freshly mowed front yard, clearing clippings and other debris with a leaf blower. Casey approached him at about 1:30. “I can’t find the key to the shed, and I need to dig up a bamboo root I’ve been tripping over. Do you have a shovel I could borrow?” she reportedly asked.

  Brian handed her a round-bladed shovel with a rubber grip. She stepped into her parents’ garage, disappearing from his view. At that point, it was suspected that she carried the garbage bag from the trunk into the backyard, looking for a place to bury her daughter, setting the bundle down in three different locations—next to the playhouse, near the screened patio porch and at a spot behind the swimming pool.

  At the latter location, evidence indicated that someone started to dig a twelve-inch-wide hole, but quit after achieving a depth of five inches and covered up the effort. The backyard no longer seemed a viable option. The garbage bag went back into the trunk, and the lid slammed shut. Casey walked over to the Burners’ home, knocked on the front door and returned the borrowed shovel. Brian noticed nothing amiss—no strangeness in Casey’s behavior, no dirt on her shorts or sports bra.

  Casey drove around looking for other disposal options. Cell phone pings tracked her meandering through a remote spot near the airport. And also showed her travelling to a sparsely populated area in the vicinity of the University of Central Florida.

  Casey spent that night and the next day at Tony’s apartment. On Thursday, June 19, according to the authorities, she went out on another scouting mission. She roamed around Blanchard Park and Little Econ Park. She was running out of time.

  In the sweltering heat of a Central Florida summer, the smell in the car would have become unbearable. Documents indicated that no later than June 26, she settled on a location within her comfort zone. She stopped at the woods of scrub pine, red maple, saw palmetto, wax myrtle and heavy undergrowth less than a mile from her parents’ house—the same overgrown area she’d frequented with her friends in middle school.

  She must have held her breath as she lifted the foul-smelling bundle out of the trunk of her car. She carried it a little ways into the woods, dumping it into a patch of fern, ground cover and fallen leaves, where poison ivy and air potato vines snaked across the ground and embraced tree trunks in their effort to stretch out of the gloom and toward the sun.

  If the pending charges are true, Casey then turned and walked away, leaving behind the remains of her child, her flesh and blood—the beloved granddaughter that George and Cindy Anthony would never again see.

  CHAPTER 21

  During that dark week, Casey showed few signs to her friends and family of being emotionally impacted by the fate of her daughter. On Tuesday, she posted a message on Amy’s Facebook page! “Cheer me up lady. I love you and can’t wait to finally get you moved in.”

  One night, she stopped by Christopher’s house shortly after 7 P.M. She was driving a dark-colored Jeep Cherokee with New York plates. She told Christopher that her car had broken down and she was borrowing a friend’s.

  She greeted his mom, who was working out on her new treadmill for the first time. Casey and Christopher then watched television and chatted. She seemed happy, but said that she was a bit depressed about her parents splitting up. Her dad, she said, was cheating on her mom. Her mom, she said, explained about the divorce and told her, “We’re going to be together and Dad’s going to be out of our life.”

  Casey also said that she was buying a house at a subdivision near the dump on Curry Ford Road. It would be a home for her and Caylee, but her mom was helping her pick it out. She blew off $250,000 as a cheap price to pay for a home.

  She also told Christopher that she had a strong relationship with her mom, but not so much with her dad. He wanted to get too involved in her life, she said, pushing his beliefs on her, telling her how she should act and insisting that she worked.

  Casey made herself at home in Tony’s place to the delight of his temporary roommate, Nate Lezniewicz. He and Tony were in school full-time, bopping in and out of the apartment between classes. Casey always seemed to be smiling and happy. But better than that, she kept the house in order, did the laundry and often cooked dinner. Nathan told Tony, “Don’t screw this up. I’m eating better than I have in a few months.”

  Despite the fact that Casey seemed to be there every day, all day, Nathan, Tony and the other roommate, Cameron Campina, all thought she was employed by Universal as an event planner. Casey’s answer to any questions was simple: her boss allowed her to work from home. They accepted that explanation. And besides, Casey brought home bags of groceries from time to time. She’d have to have a job to do that.

  Caylee had been a frequent visitor at the apartment the first half of June. Nate thought Caylee was a “very sweet, very smart” girl who was fun to have around. He often sat with her watching her favorite shows, The Pink Panther and Dora the Explorer. Caylee amazed him with her ability to count to 45 in Spanish—something she’d learned from Dora.

  At times, Nathan and Caylee played a little game with his laptop. He’d call out a letter and she’d hit the key, getting it right almost every time. Caylee’s favorite phrase cracked him up: She’d say “What’s up, dude?” every time someone entered the apartment.

  One afternoon when he and Cameron took a nap in the living room, Caylee pulled out Tony’s drum pad and a pair of drumsticks. She woke them up, pounding out a beat and chanting, “Wake up, Nate. Wake up, Cam.”

  But her presence disappeared in the middle of that month. Nathan teased Casey about Caylee’s absence. “I’m beginning to think you don’t have a child. Where is she? How come we haven’t seen her around?”

  Every time the subject came up, Casey greeted it with a chuckle. “Oh, she’s at Disney World with the nanny”—Or at Cocoa Beach or the Universal theme park. She explained that there were problems and constant fighting at her parents’ home. She said she didn’t want Caylee subjected to that environment. While she was here, she claimed, Caylee was with the nanny. Life at the apartment with three single guys often got a bit too rowdy for a 2-year-old girl.

  Casey was right about that. There were lots of late nights with partying both in the apartment and out at clubs. Initially, according to Tony and his roommates, Casey had been reluctant to use marijuana. The guys teased and coaxed her with a chorus of “Come on, Casey,” and “Hit this bowl.”

  Casey always gave in and took a toke. Soon, it was a nightly habit and Casey needed no persuasion. She wasn’t a typical user, though. It took very little to get her high. Tony described her as “giggly and happy” when she smoked, though he was quick to add, “She’s been happy the entire time she’s been here.”
/>   On the morning of June 19, Casey called high school acquaintance Matthew Crisp to find out if he still leased apartments. Her boyfriend, she said, wanted to break his lease and find a new apartment. Matthew said that he was still in the business and asked her to come by.

  She came by with Tony, upbeat and full of smiles. Matthew showed an apartment to Tony and he liked what he saw. As they were leaving, Casey gave Matthew a hug—a very tight hug, to Matthew’s surprise.

  John Azzilanna and Teddy Pieper, students and club photographers, worked at Fusian on Friday night, June 20, after midnight, shooting pictures until the club closed at 2 A.M. One of their subjects was Casey, who was wearing a blue dress. She seemed happy. She seemed all about having a good time. Just a typical clubber—without a care in the world.

  The only thing that struck Cameron as odd were Casey’s cell phone calls. Any time her phone rang, Casey stepped outside. He’d watch her pace around in the grass behind the apartment. Although he didn’t know it, many of those calls were from Casey’s mother asking about Caylee.

  While Casey partied, her parents suffered. Cindy called constantly begging to see her granddaughter. Casey’s excuses never ended—they were in Tampa, they were in Jacksonville. She promised to come home one Monday, but when that day arrived, she called and said the nanny had been in an accident and was now in Tampa General Hospital being treated for a concussion. Casey, her girlfriends and the kids were staying at the hotel in Tampa until Zanny’s family arrived.

  She was supposed to return to Orlando one Friday. But, she said, she’d gone to Jacksonville to see if she and Jeffrey Hopkins had a future, and while there, her car had issues. Jeffrey didn’t want her to drive all the way to Orlando without taking care of the problems first. He put the car in the shop. Casey knew that excuse would please her dad. He’d gotten on her case for traveling out of town when the car needed an oil change, a tire rotation and other work.

 

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