More than two weeks after 84-year-old Nancy Guthrie vanished from her million-dollar home in the Catalina Foothills outside Tucson, the investigation has produced no clear suspects and no strong leads. What it has produced is a growing chorus of law enforcement professionals, department insiders, and federal sources who say Pima County Sheriff Chris Nanos has turned a serious missing persons case into a showcase for his own ego.
Guthrie, the mother of "Today" show co-host Savannah Guthrie, was reported missing on Feb. 1. In the days since, Sheriff Nanos planted himself at the center of the case, hosting press briefings and granting interviews to outlets across the country. The FBI, meanwhile, has grown increasingly frustrated, with multiple sources telling The Post the bureau is desperate to take over but legally cannot unless the Guthrie family specifically asks.
The result is a case that looks less like a professional investigation and more like a slow-motion disaster, directed by a man his own deputies say cares more about the spotlight than the outcome.
According to the New York Post, the sharpest criticism is coming from inside the building. Sgt. Aaron Cross, president of the Pima County Deputies Organization, did not mince words:
It is a common belief in this agency that this case has become an ego case for Sheriff Nanos.
Cross described a department where the public-facing persona and the private reality bear little resemblance to each other. Referencing a 2016 interview Nanos gave to KGUN9, in which the sheriff was visibly furious over FBI allegations of misuse of civil asset forfeiture funds, Cross offered a blunt assessment:
That's the real Sheriff Nanos — the angry, vindictive guy. That's who we experience inside the department. The 'aw shucks' kind of persona that he portrays is kind of the character that he puts on.
An anonymous law enforcement source echoed the sentiment, telling The Post that Nanos "turned a serious investigation into a rolling spectacle, from questionable decisions to shifting narratives and a disastrous media cleanup tour that raised more questions than it answered."
Nanos responded to the criticism the way critics say he always does. He went after the messenger. Speaking to Green Valley News, the sheriff singled out Cross directly:
Aaron Cross is just being Aaron Cross. He is manipulative and he is a liar, OK? He best be careful because the further this goes for him, the deeper he's digging himself.
That's the sheriff of Arizona's second-most populous county publicly threatening a sergeant who dared to criticize the handling of a case involving a missing 84-year-old woman. The priorities here are clarifying themselves.
Among the most damaging allegations: Nanos released Nancy Guthrie's home as a crime scene far too early. Within hours of the crime, the house was left unguarded. Days into the investigation, it was surrendered entirely. Reporters and internet sleuths walked up to the front door.
Betsy Brantner Smith, a former Chicago law enforcement officer of three decades who now works with the National Policing Association, was direct about the failure:
In my professional opinion, I believe they released the crime scene too early. And that was on Sheriff Nanos.
Cross noted the predictable consequence:
I think it was completely predictable that we would have to go back out there again.
He added that investigators have had to return to the scene repeatedly, a fact that "looks unprofessional" and "looks amateurish." It does not help, Cross said, when reporters have essentially been contaminating the scene.
Nanos denied the criticism entirely. He told Green Valley News that his investigators "felt confident they retrieved everything" and that the crime scene was completed, not prematurely released. Done. His word against the judgment of policing professionals and the visible reality of unsecured evidence.
The federal frustration is palpable. A federal source familiar with the case told The Post that "over two whole weeks into this, the police have made no leads, no progress." The same source criticized the sheriff's media strategy in terms that could apply to the entire investigation: "Giving press conferences without saying anything. It's not helpful."
Perhaps most damning was the source's observation about Nanos and the Guthrie family's possible involvement, which the sheriff only cleared this week after weeks of public speculation:
One minute he exonerates, the next he doesn't exonerate.
A key forensic decision has also drawn scrutiny. DNA from a latex glove found two miles from Nancy's home was sent to a laboratory in Florida, chosen by the sheriff's office, rather than the FBI's own lab in Quantico. An FBI source noted that "if I were a sheriff and had no forensic capability, I'd use the FBI." That source also revealed that authorities "happened to get lucky" with the discovery of surveillance footage showing a masked suspect, because there was no video backup. The FBI is now trying to backtrack on what was missed, and "it's tricky."
Cross made the jurisdictional argument plainly:
They [the FBI] should have taken the case over within the first few days. We have been treating this as a kidnapping, and the FBI is the premier agency to deal with kidnappings in the world.
But the FBI's hands are tied. As another law enforcement source told The Post, "the FBI can't take over a case just because it gets national attention. Believe me, they would if they could." That decision rests with the family, and Nanos shows no interest in encouraging it.
Cross believes the answer lies in history. The FBI investigated the Pima County Sheriff's Department in 2015 for misuse of civil asset forfeiture funds. Nanos was chief at the time and was never charged, but the sheriff was indicted, and Nanos lost the 2016 election. Cross says the grudge never healed:
It is widely believed he thinks the FBI cost him his election.
That belief, according to Cross, explains the sheriff's resistance to federal involvement in the Guthrie case. Not investigative strategy. Not professional judgment. A grudge from a decade ago.
The dysfunction predates the Guthrie disappearance. Consider the operational failures that compounded the crisis from the start:
Cross called it exactly what it was:
It was just a matter of time before something terrible happened, and it exposed the self-imposed weakness that Nanos created.
This is a county of more than a million people, served by 400 commissioned deputies and detectives. The department handled 12 homicides in 2024 and solved them all. These are capable officers operating under leadership that undermines them at every turn.
Brantner Smith made the distinction clearly:
These officers are being called the Keystone cops, and told they don't know what they're doing. And it's very frustrating because these are very good police officers. They're just not working under the best leadership.
Nanos barely won re-election in 2024, defeating Republican challenger Heather Lappin by fewer than 500 votes. Weeks before that election, he placed Lappin, then a lieutenant at the Pima County Jail, on administrative leave. Cross was placed on leave around the same time. Both have filed federal lawsuits against Nanos, and both cases remain ongoing.
Lappin's lawsuit alleged that "Sheriff Nanos and PCSD leadership waged a retaliatory campaign against Lieutenant Lappin's career in order to undermine her candidacy."
Shortly after Nanos squeaked through, the Pima County Board of Supervisors voted unanimously for an independent investigation into whether the sheriff was responsible for criminal wrongdoing during the election. The case was referred to Arizona's Democratic attorney general. No charges were ever brought.
A Democrat sheriff, investigated by a Democratic AG, cleared without charges. A Board of Supervisors member told The Post they were "deeply frustrated." The pattern is familiar enough.
Every day spent litigating who controls the investigation is a day Nancy Guthrie is not found. That is the fact that should dwarf every other consideration, every grudge, every press conference, every jurisdictional turf war.
Nanos told Green Valley News, "We're devoting everything we've got to it." Everything except the one resource that might actually break the case open: the FBI's full investigative capacity, willingly offered and stubbornly refused.
Brantner Smith identified the core failure with precision: Nanos "is not a good communicator," and that failing is "fueling so much of this consternation and speculation, as well as the unnecessary abuse of our Pima County Sheriff's Department." The officers pay for the leader's ego. The public pays for the leader's grudge.
And somewhere, Nancy Guthrie pays for all of it.