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George talked about Caylee’s third birthday coming up in a week. He wanted the little girl back to have a big party for her.

“I want to be out so that I can be there,” Casey sighed.

“Your little girl, my granddaughter, has captivated the world.” George recounted the calls he had received from people as far away as Washington State.

“All I want is Caylee home, but I want to be there when she comes home,” Casey said, breaking into tears. She listened as her father, his voice cracking, described going outside every evening to talk to Caylee. “The moon, the stars, and the sky, sweetheart. Mommy loves you, Jo Jo and CC love you, Uncle E loves you,” he told her. “I wish there was more I could do. I would give my life right now for you and for her. This is destroying your mother. She hurts so much.” Casey seemed nonchalant.

George again tried to apologize for not being a better father and for not listening more. “You were a great dad and grandpa, and Caylee was lucky,” Casey responded with apparent sincerity.

George told Casey to forget about Baez; he’d arrange the meeting with the FBI. Casey agreed, but started manipulating the terms of her talking to law enforcement. She wanted to get out of jail more than anything, so she made it seem as if she could speak more freely if she were bonded out and at home. As George explained, financially they just couldn’t do it. He wept frequently during the visit, and begged for anything Casey could do to help get Caylee back.

Casey ended the conversation by repeating her desire to be home when Caylee finally returned. George agreed, saying he wanted to do all the things he used to do with Caylee before she went missing.

THE LAST RECORDED JAILHOUSE VISIT between Casey and her parents took place on August 14. Her brother Lee had already visited earlier in the day. Cindy was already crying when Casey entered the visitation area that day. After a month of searching for her granddaughter, Cindy was pale and drawn, exhausted and emotionally distraught. She had been the one to say it smelled “like a dead body in the damn car”; she had called 911 to turn her daughter in; she was holding on to both the hope and the fear that Caylee was being held hostage.

Meanwhile, Casey, who had yet to give anyone a useful piece of information, sat smiling widely as usual, in stark contrast to her disheveled mother. Casey, George, and Cindy had been together only a few minutes when Cindy blurted out her biggest fear. “Someone just said that Caylee was dead this morning. She drowned in the pool. That’s the newest story out there.”

Casey barely reacted, shaking her head from side to side as one would upon hearing something that sounds utterly ridiculous. “Surprise, surprise,” was her sarcastic reply.

“We need something to go on,” said Cindy plaintively, her tone indicating she’d reached the end of her rope.

Casey responded in kind, snapping back, “Mom, I don’t have anything! I’m sorry. I’ve been here a month, a month today. Do you understand how I feel? I mean, do you really understand how I feel in this?”

The loving air that had marked their first meeting was disintegrating under the weight of Casey’s tone. Whatever emotional closeness remained was further decimated as Casey began to discuss a plan in the works that would permit her a private contact visit with one member of her family. She attempted to explain to Cindy that she had chosen to see her father and hoped that her feelings would not be hurt.

George quickly took the phone, hoping to diffuse the blow to his wife. He changed the subject and explained to his daughter that she was the boss, and not Jose Baez, when it came to decisions. He wanted her to know that whoever she spoke to was her choice. It seemed clear, though unspoken, that George saw Jose’s concern for protecting Casey’s legal rights and shielding her from possible prosecution as an impediment to finding Caylee. He apparently wanted Casey to bypass Jose and speak directly to the police.

“The police are not helping us,” Casey moaned. She