her mother and her best friend, Amy. But Casey defended her actions, insisting that she had stolen from Amy only in “times of desperations.”
“What does that mean?” George asked.
Casey dodged the question, claiming that she would communicate to them secretly.
George wanted to know if there was anything he personally could do for Casey. “If I could get you out of here today, I would, but we have to get Caylee back,” he said. “I miss her.”
“I miss her, too,” Casey replied, tearing up.
“I want to take your pain away from you. You know you can tell me anything?”
“I know that, Dad.”
“I miss you, sweetie.”
Casey again started to cry. “I know that and I miss you, too.”
“I wish I could have been a better dad . . . a better grandpa, you know?” George said with sadness.
“You’ve been a great dad, and you’ve been the best grandfather. . . . Don’t for a second think otherwise. You and Mom have been the best grandparents. . . . Caylee has been so lucky to have both of you.”
George choked back tears as he told his daughter how much he missed her and Caylee, and how hard it was to see all their belongings around the house. He told his daughter the Anthony family was like a hand, and he was the thumb. He appeared heartened when Casey agreed to communicate with the FBI.
On July 28, Lee returned to the jail. Without using names, he asked if any of the three people she had communicated with by phone or text on the day Caylee went missing could be involved in her disappearance. Casey left that open as a possibility. She told Lee that she had been doing her own search for Caylee during the daytime, but not at night.
During the visit, Lee asked Casey about her new MySpace password, Timer 55. On June 16, she had used her computer to change the password to her account, a move that had been discovered by the police computer forensics lab. She would later tell Lee that the password had something to do with Caylee. We in the prosecutor’s office did some calendar arithmetic and discovered that the number of days between June 16, when Cindy last saw Caylee, and August 9, Caylee’s third birthday, was fifty-five. That, combined with the word Timer, led us to conclude that fifty-five was the number of days Casey thought she could hold Cindy at bay, knowing that on Caylee’s birthday, Cindy would be unstoppable.
The two discussed the tremendous outpouring of support for Caylee. Lee asked if she had a message she wanted to communicate to the people holding Caylee. “I know with every ounce of my gut we will be with her again,” she dictated. “You know how much I love you and how much I appreciate this every day.” Casey then repeated her father’s message to her brother: “Our family is like a hand,” she said, telling her brother she loved him.
“I love you, too,” Lee replied, tears welling. “I know we are going to find Caylee.”
That morning, Jose Baez made a motion to keep the visits between Casey and her family private. One reason he cited was that “the release of any visitation video-conferencing could impede the investigation, chill the public’s willingness to report any leads, and compromise the integrity of the Defendant’s right to a fair trial.” This was the beginning of a trend by the defense to attempt to control the media message. They would routinely appear before the cameras to give opinions or leak information favorable to Casey, and then complain when unfavorable information was released.
Rather than simply being something on which the judge could rule, however, this was an issue dictated by Florida law. The public and the media are afforded the right of access to a broad range of records maintained by government agencies. The law was clear that the jail was obligated to release the recording; the motion had no chance of being granted.
The following day, the motion was denied.
O N J ULY 30, G EORGE AND Cindy visited again. This time both parents
“What does that mean?” George asked.
Casey dodged the question, claiming that she would communicate to them secretly.
George wanted to know if there was anything he personally could do for Casey. “If I could get you out of here today, I would, but we have to get Caylee back,” he said. “I miss her.”
“I miss her, too,” Casey replied, tearing up.
“I want to take your pain away from you. You know you can tell me anything?”
“I know that, Dad.”
“I miss you, sweetie.”
Casey again started to cry. “I know that and I miss you, too.”
“I wish I could have been a better dad . . . a better grandpa, you know?” George said with sadness.
“You’ve been a great dad, and you’ve been the best grandfather. . . . Don’t for a second think otherwise. You and Mom have been the best grandparents. . . . Caylee has been so lucky to have both of you.”
George choked back tears as he told his daughter how much he missed her and Caylee, and how hard it was to see all their belongings around the house. He told his daughter the Anthony family was like a hand, and he was the thumb. He appeared heartened when Casey agreed to communicate with the FBI.
On July 28, Lee returned to the jail. Without using names, he asked if any of the three people she had communicated with by phone or text on the day Caylee went missing could be involved in her disappearance. Casey left that open as a possibility. She told Lee that she had been doing her own search for Caylee during the daytime, but not at night.
During the visit, Lee asked Casey about her new MySpace password, Timer 55. On June 16, she had used her computer to change the password to her account, a move that had been discovered by the police computer forensics lab. She would later tell Lee that the password had something to do with Caylee. We in the prosecutor’s office did some calendar arithmetic and discovered that the number of days between June 16, when Cindy last saw Caylee, and August 9, Caylee’s third birthday, was fifty-five. That, combined with the word Timer, led us to conclude that fifty-five was the number of days Casey thought she could hold Cindy at bay, knowing that on Caylee’s birthday, Cindy would be unstoppable.
The two discussed the tremendous outpouring of support for Caylee. Lee asked if she had a message she wanted to communicate to the people holding Caylee. “I know with every ounce of my gut we will be with her again,” she dictated. “You know how much I love you and how much I appreciate this every day.” Casey then repeated her father’s message to her brother: “Our family is like a hand,” she said, telling her brother she loved him.
“I love you, too,” Lee replied, tears welling. “I know we are going to find Caylee.”
That morning, Jose Baez made a motion to keep the visits between Casey and her family private. One reason he cited was that “the release of any visitation video-conferencing could impede the investigation, chill the public’s willingness to report any leads, and compromise the integrity of the Defendant’s right to a fair trial.” This was the beginning of a trend by the defense to attempt to control the media message. They would routinely appear before the cameras to give opinions or leak information favorable to Casey, and then complain when unfavorable information was released.
Rather than simply being something on which the judge could rule, however, this was an issue dictated by Florida law. The public and the media are afforded the right of access to a broad range of records maintained by government agencies. The law was clear that the jail was obligated to release the recording; the motion had no chance of being granted.
The following day, the motion was denied.
O N J ULY 30, G EORGE AND Cindy visited again. This time both parents
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