Mommy's Little Girl (5 page)

“And his son Zack Hopkins, I guess, Zenaida used to watch over Zack?”

“Yes.”

“And you say you've known Zenaida for about four years?”

“Almost four years, yes.”

“So, you knew her before you had your child?” Melich asked.

“Well, I met her just before I was actually pregnant at the time, so . . .”

“And when did she start watching over your child?”

“Um, it's been within the last year-and-a-half, two years, that she started watching Caylee. I had another friend watch Caylee that I've known since middle school. When she went back to school, I was looking for a new nanny. Jeff offered to have Zenaida watch both kids. She agreed, and it kind of went from there.”

“Before Zenaida started watching over your child, who was it—Who was the nanny?”

“Her name was Lauren Gibbs . . .”

“And when did Lauren stop watching . . . your child?” Melich pressed.

“Um,” Casey said as she paused. “Maybe April of 2006.”

“. . . Would you drop the child off, or would she meet you somewhere?”

“I would usually drop her off. For a few months, we would go over to Jeff's house. He lived over in Avalon Park. That was a couple of years ago . . . It was in a nice centralized area. He had a decent-size house. It was good room for the two of them. Then I started bringing Caylee over to Zenaida's apartment,” Casey explained.

After she described the two different places that Zenaida lived, Melich asked her to relate the events that had occurred on June 9.

“I got off of work, left Universal, driving back to pick up Caylee like a normal day. And I show up to the apartment, knock on the door. Nobody answers. So, I called Zenaida's cell phone and . . . the phone is no longer in service.

“So, I sit down on the steps and wait for a little bit to see if maybe it was just a fluke, if something happened. And time passed. I didn't hear from anyone. No one showed up to the house, so I went over to Jay Blanchard Park and checked a couple other places where maybe possibly
they would've gone. A couple stores, just regular places that I know Zenaida shops at and she's taken Caylee before. And after about seven o clock, when I still hadn't heard anything, I was getting pretty upset, pretty frantic.” The memory of the pain wasn't reflected in her voice. She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, as if she were discussing a misplaced drink.

“And I went to a neutral place. I didn't really want to come home. I wasn't sure what I'd say about not knowing where Caylee was. Still hoping that I would get a call or, you know, find out that Caylee was coming back so that I could go get her. And I ended up going to my boyfriend Anthony's house, who lives in Sutton Place.”

“Did you talk to Anthony about what happened to Caylee?” the detective asked.

“No, I did not,” Casey admitted.

“Has Anthony ever seen Caylee before?”

“Yes, he has.”

“Have you talked to anyone about Caylee, about your incident with Caylee? Or the fact that she's missing?”

“. . . a couple of people, a couple of mutual friends.”

“Who did you talk to about it?”

“Um, I talked to Jeff, Jeffrey Hopkins.”

“Uh-huh,” Melich said with a nod.

“I also attempted to contact Zenaida's mother, and never received a call back from her.”

“Do you know Zenaida's mother's name?”

“Um, wow . . . and, um . . . I think it's
Gloria.
”

“Do you know a telephone for Zenaida's mom?”

“I do not, no.”

“Do you have any of these numbers programmed into your SIM card that you kept in your other phone?”

“No, I do not.”

“How long did you have this old phone?”

“I've had the Nokia for almost a year.”

Melich took care to keep the incredulity out of his voice. “So, after a full year of dealing with Zenaida and having her baby-sit, you don't remember . . .”

“. . . Zenaida's number has changed a couple of times . . .” Casey answered.

“What about Jeffrey?”

“. . . His number's changed a couple of times when he moved from Orlando to North Carolina and back down to Jacksonville.”

“Okay . . . you talked to Jeffrey. Who else did you talk to?”

“I talked to Juliette Lewis. She's one of my co-workers at Universal.”

“She works—you still work—at Universal?”

“Yes,” Casey said.

“What do you do at Universal?”

“Event coordinator.”

“Okay. What is Juliette? What position is she? Where does she work?”

“She's also an event coordinator. We work in the same department.”

“You have a number for Juliette?” Yuri Melich asked.

“Oooh, off-hand, I can't think of one,” Casey said with a rueful smile.

“She in your SIM card?”

“No, she's not. . . . Her number just changed because she just moved back up north. She . . .” Casey's words jerked as she realized that she had just contradicted herself. Quickly, she worked to recover. “Within the last two months, she has finished moving up to New York. She's sub-leasing her apartment.”

“So, Juliette . . . doesn't work at Universal anymore?”

“No, she does not.”

“When did she leave Universal?”

“About two months ago.”

“Who else did you talk to about it?” the investigator continued to push.

“It's been within that small group. I've tried to find out information from people going out to different places. Like Fusian Ultra Lounge and a couple of bars that I know Zenaida had gone to downtown before to see if—just kind
of random talk. If anybody heard about my nanny or talked to her lately.”

“Did you tell anyone specifically that Zenaida took your child?”

“No. The only two people that I specifically told were Jeff and Juliette.”

“And you don't have a number for Juliette?”

“Not off-hand, no, I do not.”

“It's not on your phone? Might it be on line?”

“It's definitely on line—I know it's on one of our old work sheets. Um, her old number, which could still be active—I'm not sure if it is. But I know she does have a new number, which I just programmed into that new phone.”

“When was the last time you talked to Juliette?”

“Hmm, about three weeks ago. Shortly after this happened.”

“So, you talked to her after she left?”

“Uh-huh,” Casey nodded.

“What's the reason—I asked you this before, and I'll ask you again for the record: What's the reason you didn't call the police before? Since right now, we're here because your . . . parents asked you about the child, and they were concerned, didn't get an answer as to where the child was, they called the sheriff's office.”

“Uh-huh,” Casey agreed.

“Why didn't you call prior to today?”

“I think part of me was naïve enough to think that I could handle this myself, which obviously I couldn't. And I was scared that something would happen to her if I did notify the authorities or got the media involved. Or my parents, which I know would have done the same thing. Just the fear of the unknown. Fear of the potential of Caylee getting hurt, of not seeing my daughter again.”

“. . . I asked you this at the onset before we went on tape, and I'll ask you again just to make sure we're clear. Is there anything about this story that you're telling me that is untrue?”

“No,” Casey said with a shake of her head.

“Or is there anything that you want to change or divert from what you've already told me?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you cause any injury to your child Caylee?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you hurt Caylee or leave her somewhere and you're . . .”

“No.”

“. . . worried that if we find that out, that people are going to look at you in a wrong way?”

“No, sir,” Casey insisted.

“You're telling me that Zenaida took your child without your permission . . .”

“She's . . .”

“. . . and hasn't returned her?”

“. . . the last person that I seen with my daughter, yes.”

After a few more questions about Zenaida, Detective Melich turned the questions back to the missing little girl. “Does Caylee take any medications?”

“No.”

“She doesn't suffer from any conditions—any medical conditions—that we need to know?”

“No, not at all.”

Melich then moved the conversation to the stolen money and possible implications of that theft. “As brought up before about taking some money from some people, I want to make sure I get it on tape. Do you have any problems with drugs or narcotics, either prescription narcotics . . .”

“No,” Casey interrupted.

Melich continued, “. . . or drugs like cocaine, ecstasy, meth—anything like that?”

“Nothing like that.”

“Have you ever been committed for thoughts of suicide . . . ?”

“No.”

“Is there any underlying cause to why Zenaida would've taken your child?”

“No, nothing, that . . .”

“She ever make any statements to you about . . .”

“Only how much she loves Caylee and how great of a kid she is.”

“And have you talked—When you talk to Jeffrey afterwards, I'm assuming Jeffrey's child is still with him?”

“His child is still with him,” Casey said and then spun a tale about Zenaida's family in New York and Florida, her attendance at the University of Florida, her Dominican and Puerto Rican ethnic heritage.

“When we finish this, would you be willing to drive with me to show me where her mom lives and the apartment that you used to drop her off at?”

“Yes,” Casey agreed, and then raised her right hand and swore and affirmed that all her words were the gospel truth.

Casey left the Anthony home in Detective Melich's unmarked car. They rendezvoused with a deputy and drove to the corner of Glenwood and Robinson. Casey pointed to a second-floor window in a building off of the northwest corner of the intersection at 301 Hillside Avenue. She claimed that Zenaida had lived there during the first half of 2006 in a three-story apartment. The second-story window had been Zenaida's bedroom—the one above it was where her roommate had lived. The place she indicated, however, was a seniors-only facility.

On the other side of the street, Melich spotted 232 Glenwood Avenue—an address found on a slip of paper in Casey's car. He asked why she'd written it down.

“Because it's across the street,” Casey said.

The answer didn't make a lot of sense to the detective, but, for now, he let the remark go unchallenged. They drove next to 2863 South Conway Road, where Casey verified the apartment number she'd provided earlier. The unit appeared empty to the detective. “Have you ever been inside the apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Is there any furniture?”

“Yes, there's furniture and children's toys.”

“What type of vehicle does Zenaida drive?”

“A silver Ford Focus.”

The third location they visited was in the Crossings at Conway, a townhome community, near East Michigan
and South Conway Roads, where Casey said Zenaida's mother, Gloria, owned a condo. Casey also claimed that Zenaida had lived there from the latter part of 2006 and through early 2007, and that was where she'd left her daughter with the baby-sitter during that time. However, when they got to the complex, Casey could not identify the correct address.

The investigator drove up and down every street, but Casey still could not recognize the condo. “I stopped paying attention to it, since I came here so many times,” she said.

Detective Melich parked the car and explained to Casey that he was going to knock on a few doors to see if he could find anyone who knew Zenaida or Gloria. “Let me know if anyone I talk to looks familiar to you.”

Yuri Melich knocked on three different doors and spoke to residents. Casey recognized no one. And none of the residents knew Zenaida, nor recognized the photo of Caylee. They returned to the Anthony home. “I'll call you if I need anything,” he said as Casey walked inside.

Before the detective left, George Anthony approached him. “I am concerned that my daughter is holding back information. My wife and I are afraid that something might have happened to Caylee.”

In the midst of an intense investigation, how could anyone in law enforcement respond to that—particularly when the detective shared that fear? He changed the subject, asking about Caylee's father.

“Casey would only tell me his name was Eric and that he died in a motor vehicle accident in mid-to late 2007,” he said, adding that Casey claimed to have saved an obituary, but she couldn't remember where she'd put it.

After briefing his supervisor, Sergeant John Allen, Melich headed back to the Sawgrass Apartments on South Conway Road. He met with maintenance man Dave Turner and apartment manager Amanda Macklin. The detective pulled out a photo of Caylee—no one recognized the child. Nor did Zenaida's name sound familiar.

They confirmed that the apartment in question had been vacant for 142 days since the eviction of the former tenant in February and in that time, had been undergoing renovation and repair. Dave took the investigator up to the apartment, where Melich personally verified the vacancy.

Back in the manager's office, Amanda an a search for Zenaida Gonzalez and found her. She'd never been a resident, but she had stopped by on June 17 and filled out a guest card. She'd been interested in renting a two-bedroom–two-bath unit for herself and two children.

Amanda called employee Harry Garcia to the office. Harry acknowledged that it was his handwriting on the card, adding that he remembered talking to the woman in Spanish.