Casey cancelled two scheduled visits with her brother Lee, but, on August 14, she agreed to meet with her parents. Reporters jostled George and Cindy Anthony as they approached the jail. The Anthonys were in no mood for the media. George said, “You don’t want to be knocked down, get out of my way. I’m done with you guys. Leave me alone. Do not come past here. Please, do not come past here. Out of respect for these other people, for a change. Honor them.”
A reporter shouted, “Do you have anything to say about the new theory that Caylee might be dead and it might be an accident?”
Cindy snapped, “Frickin’ quit publicizing that stuff! She’s out there!”
George screamed, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Leave us alone, please. Do not follow us in the gates. Do not bother us when we’re standing in line. Let’s go. Let us go. Let’s go.”
His anger contrasted with the message on the matching tee shirts worn by George and Cindy. The Never Lose Hope Foundation had made them for the couple with a butterfly and the message “Fly Home Baby. We Miss You!”
They entered the visitation area and sat in uncomfortable chairs. On the video monitor, Casey smiled and greeted her parents. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, beautiful. I love you.”
“Hi. I love you, too,” Casey responded.
Cindy threw her hands over her mouth trying to quell her sobs.
“Why is she crying already?” Casey sneered.
“Because we haven’t seen you,” George said. “How’s your day going so far?”
“I was asleep,” Casey said rubbing her eyes. “It’s okay. I got up at five and stayed awake for about an hour and went to bed for a little bit. So my eyes are red. I’m a little tired.”
“So what else is going on with you?” George asked.
“Nothing,” Casey said with a laugh. “The usual. Just waiting around.” Casey asked about their tee shirts and told her father that she liked them.
George handed the phone to his wife. Cindy choked on her words as she said, “Hi, sweetie.”
“Hi, Mom,” Casey said and wiped at her eyes. Laughing, she said, “Well I lasted a minute. How are you feeling?”
“Not—We’re not doing well, Case,” Cindy cried. “None of us. Lee’s been sick. Dad’s boiling up at the media.”
“I heard,” Casey snickered.
Cindy’s face screwed up with pain. “Someone just said that Caylee was dead this morning—that she drowned in the pool. That’s the newest news out there.”
“Surprise, surprise.”
“It’s very hard,” Cindy sniffled.
“Yeah, I know,” Casey said, her voice turning harsh. “Trust me, I know that. Someone just sent me some of the stuff on line—the comments that people have been leaving, blogs—articles, I guess, that people have been writing. It was very upsetting last night to see that.”
“You know, it’s terrible, Casey. We get hate mail, threatening letters.”
“Well, I haven’t gotten anything like that, thankfully. All the letters I’ve gotten are positive . . .”
“We need to have something to go on,” Cindy pleaded.
Casey widened her eyes and flared her nostrils. With a toss of her hair, she snapped, “Mom, I don’t have anything. I’m sorry. I’ve been here a month. I’ve been here a month today. Do you understand how I feel? I mean, do you really understand how I feel in this? I’m completely, completely out of the loop with everything. The only information I get is when I see my attorney. That’s it. Outside of that, I have nothing to go on. I just have to sit here and wait and wonder. Wonder if something’s going on—wonder if something’s new.”
“Have they asked about which one of us you want to speak to?” Cindy asked, referring to the possibility that Casey could visit privately, in person, with one other person.
“Yeah, I wanna see Dad. You know I wanna see everybody, but I had to choose, and I wanna see Dad.”
Cindy’s face contorted. “Well, then, here, talk to your Dad.” She handed George the phone, wiped her eye and slumped forward, folding her arms tight across her mid-section.
“Hey, sweetheart,” George said. “I want you to know you are the boss through this whole thing, alright?”
“No, Dad, I’m not,” she snapped. “I haven’t been since I got here.”
George talked over his daughter. “Listen to me for a second. Okay? Listen. Think of you owning this conglomerate—this huge business. José is one of your employees, so is the sheriff’s department, so is the FBI, so am I, so is Lee and so is Mom. We’re all working with you. And, if for some reason, something’s not being said or being done, you can make it change. You’re the one that . . .”
“Dad, I’ve told José. I’ve given him information to give to you guys. We’ve given everything to the police. But nobody’s helping us—it’s obvious. We know their intention. I’m sorry. I’ve helped in every way that I possibly can since the day I got here.”
“Okay,” George nodded.
“They didn’t even give me twenty-four hours to help them—the police—without putting me here,” Casey ranted. “So, it’s obvious where everybody’s intentions lie. I know you guys want Caylee. I want Caylee more than anyone can understand, but I can’t do anything from where I’m at.”
“. . . Sweetie, I’m not trying to get you upset.”
“I am upset now. I’m completely upset.
The media is going to have a freaking field day with this . . .”
George tried to interrupt, but Casey cut him off. “Let me speak for a second, Dad. I have let everybody talk . . .”
“Okay, here’s your mom,” George said, handing the phone to Cindy.
“Can someone let me . . .” Casey pulled the phone from her ear and clenched both fists in front of her as her face contorted. “Come on.”
“Casey, hold on, sweetheart. Settle down,” Cindy said.
“Nobody is letting me speak. You want me to talk, then give me three seconds to say something.”
“Go ahead, sweetheart.”
“I am not in control over any of this, because I do not know what the hell is going on. I do not know what is going on. My entire life has been taken from me. Everything has been taken from me. You don’t understand. Everybody wants me to have answers. I do not have any answers because I do not know what is going on.
“I have no one to talk to. Except José when he comes—he’s the only person I can talk to right now, because I cannot even say anything to you guys besides telling you that I love you,” she said with a sniffle as her nose stuffed up from her tears.
“I want Caylee. Things like that, and that isn’t even being put on the air, which it should be. It is everything else, everything that I am not saying. That’s why I have not been calling, why I have not been taking calls, because him and I said we’re not going to do that. I am trying to make sure that I am not going to give anybody else anything else to throw against me. But even with me giving them nothing, they are still doing it. So how am I . . .”
“. . . You’ll be fine once Caylee is found,” Cindy assured her.
“Mom, I understand that. Do you understand my position on this? You guys expect me to have a thousand answers, and I have nothing. I have been here a month, out of contact with everybody except you guys, on the rare occasion that I get to see you, and my attorney. Do you understand? What am I supposed to learn from that? A month I have been removed from the situation. You guys are not understanding my side on this, and I am sorry.”
“No, I understand.”
“No, you don’t,” Casey said with scorn. “Because you are still asking me if there is anything I can tell you that can help, that I am the one that can do this. I can’t.
“The opportunity was there that I probably could have helped. I am trying. I was trying. There is nothing more that I can say or do until I’m home, and even then, I do not know what I can do from that point. But I can at least do something other than sit on my butt all day and read or look up stuff for my case, because that has to be my focus right now. That has to be my focus . . .”
“Your focus has to be Caylee.”
“Mom, if that is my focus, which it is, I can’t do anything from here. I do not have access to the Internet. I can’t make phone calls. I can’t go anywhere.”
“. . . I was in Lake County two days ago,” Cindy said.
“Okay.”
“Is there anything there?”
“Mom! Geez!” Casey pulled the phone away from her ear in anger, clenching her fists and shaking the receiver. A moment later, she brought it back and said, “I’m sorry. I love you guys. I miss you.”
“All right, sweetheart. Here’s Dad. Hold on.”
“No. I’m going to hang up, and just walk away right now, because . . .”
“Please don’t,” Cindy pleaded.
“I’m frustrated. I’m angry, and I don’t want to be angry. This is the first time I’ve truly been angry this entire time, but I’m so beyond frustrated with all of this. I can’t even swallow right now. It hurts.”
“Just understand, we’re all going in so many directions. We just want to go in the right one.”
“Well, I can’t point you in that direction when I’m literally at a standstill.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just as removed from the situation as somebody who has no clue what’s going on. At least—Even random people that we’ve never met have more outlook on this than I do. That’s really, really sad. That’s really sad. I literally have nothing right now.”
“Well, none of us has anything right now, Casey.”
“You guys have each other. You’re sitting next to Dad. You still have Lee. You have access to our community, to our family and friends, to our house.” Anger tightened Casey’s eyebrows and creased her forehead. After a bitter laugh, she continued. “You are taking that for granted. I have no one to comfort me but myself and the occasional visit, which has to be business for the sake of finding Caylee. So, yeah, I may look like I’m in charge, but you’re wrong. I’m completely pushed away from everybody.”
“All we can tell you is they have to honor your wishes when you say something. That’s all Dad is trying to tell you.”
“And he has been, Mom. He has been with everything—everything,” she said defending her attorney José Baez.
“. . . Well, I hope he’s telling you honestly what you’re up against.”
A greater stridency entered Casey’s voice. “Mom, I know what I’m honestly up against,” she snarled. “Do you guys understand what I’m honestly up against? And by keeping me here, you’re not helping me help myself. I’m sorry to say that.”
“We don’t have the means to get you out anyway, sweetheart. We don’t.”
“I understand that, but the opportunity was there, and it wasn’t taken advantage of . . .”
“We didn’t have an opportunity. I don’t know where you’re hearing that.”
“Just give Dad the phone,” Casey ordered. “I don’t want to get frustrated. Just give Dad the phone.”
“Hey, sweetie,” George said.
“This is seriously the first time I’ve ever been angry—that I’ve been this frustrated—that I can’t even think straight at this moment. Throughout this entire thing, I was pissed off at the police station. I was mad when all of that happened, but I tried to look at things subjectively, and this entire time, I haven’t sat in my room for that entire month and been mad. Not once. Not one time. But right now, this is the most agitated and frustrated that I’ve been. Even when I sat with José and watched that episode of Nancy Grace and stuff that was being said about Mom, and about me and him, and everybody else that I’ve heard. It frustrates me, but I let it go. Right now, I’m so hurt by everything. I don’t even know what to say. And I hate to say that.”
“Well,” her father said, “I’m not sure I upset you, and neither me or Mom would want to upset you. If we did, I’m sorry for that.”
“I know that’s not your intention,” Casey conceded. “You have to understand where I’m coming from in all of this—and obviously none of you are—while still expecting me, a month literally out of the loop, to have some sort of new insight on all this stuff. I mean, really!” She rubbed a hand across her face as she struggled for words.
“Okay. I realize that this is really hard for you to talk about, especially . . .”
“Because I can’t do anything,” Casey interrupted, her voice reaching a grating, high pitch. “Because I’ve done everything. I’ve said everything. I’ve thought everything. That’s all I can do is sit and think—every day—and that’s what I’ve done.”
“Okay. You know, it’s hard for you, and it’s hard for us because none of us have ever been through this kind of stuff.”
“Well, obviously not,” Casey said with a rueful laugh. “You guys still have a crutch or multiple crutches throughout the community with everybody.”
“Well, even that is waning at the moment, believe me. Even your mom and I are having our issues every single day, so just realize, it’s . . .”
Indifferent, Casey cut him off. “Dad, I know it’s going to take a toll on everybody, but understand again where I’m coming from in this. You have to see everybody’s side. I’ve looked at everybody’s side in this. I’ve prayed every single day for insight on everybody’s thoughts and everybody’s feelings, so I can know where you’re standing and where you’re coming from. And I know where you’re sitting right now, and Mom and Lee and Joe Schmo walking down the block, who’s seen this on the media every single day for the last month. I can understand everybody else’s side in all this. But the worst part is that nobody can see my side, and I have to keep my mouth shut. I have to keep my mouth shut about how I feel, and with everything else, because all I need to do is give the media more stuff for them and the detectives and whoever else to throw back in my face when this goes to trial.”
“Well, all I know is, I’m trying everything I can to get a chance to see you—just you and I. And I know your brother and your mom would like to do that.”
“I know that, and when I had that choice, and they told me they were initially setting it up with Lee—God, I would do anything to see one of you right now—absolutely anything. But, I wanna see Lee and I wanna talk to Lee, but I knew most of that would be an interrogation with him. He’d have a whole list of questions he’d ask me . . . Mom will dominate a lot of the conversation, which is how it’s been, I mean, you and I, we’ve been separated for a while,” Casey said with a sniffle and a swipe at her eyes. “And we were just—I wanna see all of you, but I want to see the one person who I’ve been so far disconnected from the longest, and that’s been you.”
“Well, that’s good. I’m glad you made that choice on your own. Thank you so much—I appreciate that. Thank you.”
Casey sighed again.
Next to George, a distressed Cindy laid her head down on the counter and George rubbed lightly on her rounded back. “So how did you get through . . . last Saturday?” George asked, referring to that day that would have been Caylee’s third birthday.
“I didn’t. I spent the day almost completely by myself, with my head under the covers,” Casey said through sniffles as she wiped her eyes. “I read my Bible almost the entire day. I was miserable—just completely and utterly miserable—just as I have been the entire time. It was the first time outside of our visits that I really showed any emotion. And I was open and I didn’t care, just because I couldn’t hold anything back. I broke down. It was the first time that I truly, truly broke down. And it hurt. I’m still recovering from that. Hearing about the fact that Mom was making chili and there was probably a bunch of people at the house.”
“No, there wasn’t. There was just your brother and I and your mom. . . . Mom made some of her great chili . . . It was just us. There wasn’t no one else . . . Are you eating and stuff?”
“I’m eating so they leave me alone.”
“Did you have a chance to enjoy more cold bologna sandwiches and coleslaw?”
“It’s a little bit more than that. But yeah, I’m eating so that I’m not being bothered with ‘Are you eating?’ because if I don’t eat, then they’ll say something . . . I didn’t want to upset Mom. I just—I’m running low on steam, too. If it was not for the fact that I am sitting by myself all day, sleeping, you know, I would probably be—I am getting sick right now. I can feel it. I felt it when I got up. My eyes were still red. It wasn’t from sleeping. I’m getting a cold.”
“Your mom wants to talk to you,” George said and handed the receiver to Cindy.
“Hey, I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t want to upset you . . . That wasn’t my intention. I’ve let everybody talk. I haven’t gotten to say anything. I haven’t wanted to say anything. I haven’t wanted to get frustrated or show that, but I cannot hold that in all of the time. It is getting harder.”
“I know,” Cindy commiserated.
“I know each day is getting harder on everybody.”
“You don’t know, Casey, how hard it is.”
Casey let out an indignant snort. “Oh, I don’t know? Being secluded and I do not know what is going on?”
“But you know what? That is actually a good thing. Because if you were out here . . .”
“. . . But you know what, Mom? Again, it’s going to blow over. I’m not going to give the media anything when I get out of here—it sucks for them—because I have nothing to say. All I want is my kid back—to be back with my family. That’s all I want. That’s all I’m asking. But I am not going to ask any of them for it, because they’re not going to give that to me. They’re not. I will do whatever the hell I have to to get my family back together. That is it. That’s all I want to do.”
In a heart-breaking and pathetic voice, Cindy asked, “You still think she is okay?”
“I know in my heart, Mom. I know in my gut. She’s all right. I can feel it. Every day that gets stronger. I still know she’s coming home. I can feel that—she’s coming home.”
“What can I say to her on the air? What can I tell Zanny that is going to make her bring Caylee back?”
“Tell her that we forgive her. That all we want is our Caylee. That’s it.”
“I said that yesterday.”
“Mom, that’s it—that’s all I can think of. That’s all I can say ’cause that’s what I would say. That I forgive her and that I want my baby back. That’s it.”
“I mean, do you think they actually would do that?”
“I don’t know what I can think anymore, Mom. I keep saying it because it’s the truth. I want media help as much as we can get it, but they need to help us, too.”
“I know.”
“. . . I’ll try to help them any way I can, but if they’re coming in here attacking me, they’re not getting shit. I’m sorry. I need to be looked at as a victim, because I am just as much of a victim as Caylee.”
Time was up, the connection was broken. George and Cindy walked out of the jail clinging to broken promises and shreds of hope.
Keith Williams had grown up in the Anthonys’ neighborhood and was drawn to look around the woods near Hidden Oaks Elementary on August 5. He’d talked to a psychic in Texas who told him that Caylee would be found in the woods near the road. He went back on August 18 and scouted the area again. This time, walking the fence line, he found a deflated Father’s Day balloon and, a ripped bag of stuffed animals in great condition, along with a few pieces of children’s clothing. He picked up the bag and went down to the Anthonys’ home.
Cindy answered the door and told him that none of the items looked familiar—and besides, they all knew that Caylee was still alive. Keith tossed the bag back into his trunk, troubled by Cindy’s offhand and dismissive manner. He returned to the woods and called the police.
Deputy Richard Cain again responded to cover the tip. Keith pulled the bag from his trunk and pointed out where he’d found it. Cain showed little interest in checking out the location. “This bag is too deteriorated,” the deputy said, and, much to Keith’s surprise, he tossed the bag back into the woods.