Diane Fanning’s book , “Mommy’s Little Girl”, on the Casey Anthony case hit book stores yesterday.
The book is a real life “drama” of the disappearance and ultimate murder of two-year-old Caylee Anthony that has riveted Florida and much of the nation since the story broke in July 2007.
Casey Anthony, mother of Caylee, sits in an Orange County jail charged with first degree murder of her daughter.
Fanning’s book, which has on its cover The Story that Stunned and Shocked The Nation, is based on court documents, police interviews, audio and video tapes. According the Fanning’s website, the book contains eight pages of “alarming photographs”. The author theorizes as to how Caylee might have died and attempts to treat with several unanswered questions. These are:
- Why did Casey Anthony wait one full month before reporting her daughter missing?
- Why were searches on chloroform and missing children found on her computer?
- Why did she go out partying with friends less than one week after Caylee’s disappeared?
Below is an except from the book, Mommy’s Little Girl which relates to when George and Cindy Anthony, Casey’s parents, went to pick up their daughter’s car from the towing company:
“I’m sorry about your situation, sir. You know, I’m sorry your car got impounded, but this is what it is, Simon said.
When they got within three feet of the white Pontiac, George smelled a distinctive unpleasant odor. He once worked in law enforcement. He knew that smell and it filled him with dread. He thought of his daughter and granddaughter. Please don’t let this be what I think it is. He walked around to the driver’s side and inserted the key. He noticed his granddaughter’s car seat in the back and pulled open the door.
Whoa, does that stink, Simon exclaimed. The stench reminded Simon of another car that had been impounded recently. Before they towed it, the vehicle sat for five days–with the body of a man who committed suicide inside.
George sat down in the driver’s seat and reached over to the other side, opening the passenger’s door to ventilate the car. As he breathed in the odor, his horror increased. He turned the key in the ignition to start it but then he stopped. No, George, he told himself. If there’s something wrong, you got to find out now. You can’t take it away.
Will you please walk around to the back of the car and look inside this with me? George asked. Please don’t let this be my Caylee.
Well, here, let me. Give me the keys and we’ll open the trunk up. There’s something like garbage in here.
Yeah, was all George could find to reply.
When the trunk opened, flies flew out and both men rocked back on their heels from the pungent odor. Poof! George exclaimed. That’s rotten!
Simon knew with certainty rotting garbage did not smell like that, but he kept those thoughts to himself.
The men saw an imperfectly round, basketball-sized stain in the middle of the trunk. To the left, by the taillight, was a trash bag. Let’s just make sure there is garbage in here, Simon said. He pulled the bag toward the edge of the trunk, surprised by its lightweight. Unfastening the tie, he spread open the top. They both peered down at papers, dryer lint, Arm and Hammer laundry detergent, a pizza box and other assorted trash.
Well, here, I’ll take care of this. I’ll get rid of it for you, Simon said. He walked toward the front of the car where a dumpster sat on the other side of the fence. He heaved the bag over. While Simon disposed of the trash, George stepped into a corner, hunched over and heaved up his last meal.”
