TUCSON, AZ. — The desert air had fallen to the low 50s by the time Nancy Guthrie's garage door went down for the night.
It was Jan. 31, 2026, and the 84-year-old seemed tucked into her adobe-walled home nestled among the mesquite trees and saguaros of her quiet, mountain foothills neighborhood perched above the lights of Tucson.
She'd spent her Saturday evening enjoying dinner and games with her daughter, Annie Guthrie, in the same community where she'd raised three children – the most famous of whom is Savannah Guthrie, a co-host of NBC's "Today" show.
After dinner, Annie's husband, Tommaso Cioni, drove her home. They wound several miles past low-slung homes with muted lighting that sprawled across the rocky landscape of the upscale suburb known for dark-sky views of the stars.
At 9:48 p.m., he dropped her off, waiting until she was inside before driving away.
It marked a quiet end to a quiet day in a quiet life. An elderly woman who was dedicated to friends and family.
Her garage door closed two minutes later.
It would be the last time anyone saw her.
When the sun rose on the Catalina Foothills the next day, it would reveal a woman missing and a baffling mystery – and be followed by purported ransom demands echoing some of the most notorious kidnapping cases in American history.
There would be clues. A doorbell camera triggered at 1:47 a.m. A pacemaker monitoring app disconnected 41 minutes later. Blood on Spanish tiles of the front porch.
It would launch hundreds of FBI and local investigators on a quest to find out how a barely mobile grandmother could disappear without a trace.
And for Savannah Guthrie and her family, it would start an excruciating wait that has lasted for two long months. A wait for evidence. A wait for answers. A wait for their mother.
Over that long stretch of time, the case would test Kash Patel's FBI, a county sheriff facing mounting criticism, the limits of home surveillance, the complexities of DNA technology and the patience of an anguished family and their community.
Loved ones knew that February day was that they were in a race against time to rescue Nancy, the octogenarian who doted on her grown children, wondered on social media about her plants and managed the mounting ailments of old age.
And who needed her medication each day to survive.
A life built in the desert
Nancy's life has been rooted in faith and community.
She'd landed in Tucson after growing up in northern Kentucky and studying journalism in college.
She'd started a family with her husband, Charles, aminingengineer whose work took them to Melbourne, Australia, where Savannah was born, before moving to Arizona for his work in 1973.
The Guthries found a home in the Catalina Foothills, about 15 minutes outside of Tucson.
"This is the house that we grew up in, it's really the only house I've ever known and remember. We moved there when I was about 4," Savannah said in an interview withHoda Kotbon "Today". "That's my mom's safe haven."
It's the same home that 16-year-old Savannah returned to after Friday night with friends and learned her father hadsuffered a fatal heart attack.
Nancy, now a single mother of three, had to find work and take care of those around her. "She showed us how to survive the unimaginable," Savannah said.
Choosing to stay close to her mom, Savannah attended the University of Arizona and got her first TV news job in Tucson. Nancy worked at the University of Arizona, including as a University Medical Center spokeswoman and in the development office.
She was a "positive spirit," retired vice provost Elizabeth Ervin told theArizona Star.
Nancy'sson Camronwent on to become a member of the military and a fighter pilot;Anniea writer, poet and a jeweler. Savannah rose to the most coveted spots in morning television.
After her children were grown, Nancy lived alone but remained woven into the community. She made a mark in local churches including St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church, leaders there said. She played tennis and hiked, friends toldthe New York Times.
She also loved her favorite Mexican restaurant, El Charro Café, where she became friends with executive chef Carlotta Flores.
Last November, she appeared there with her daughters Savannah and Annie for a "Today"segmentcelebrating Tucson. They shared lunch and sips of tequila from teacups.
"It's so wonderful – just the air, the quality of life is laid back and gentle," Nancy said about her hometown during the segment. "I like to watch the javelina eat my plants."
"Today" anchor Savannah Guthrie's 84-year-old mother Nancy Guthrie was reported missing in February 2026. See photos of the mother-daughter duo together through the years. Arizona officials continue to investigateNancy Guthrie's disappearance." style="max-width:100%; height:auto; border-radius:6px; margin:10px 0;" loading="lazy" /> 
Nancy Guthrie and "Today" anchor Savannah Guthrie in an undated photograph provided by NBC. " style="max-width:100%; height:auto; border-radius:6px; margin:10px 0;" loading="lazy" /> 
Nancy and Savannah Guthrie are pictured in an undated photograph provided by NBC. Asked to describe her mother by colleague Hoda Kotb, Savannah said, "She's resolute and strong. A quiet strength," adding that "She's funny and a little mischievous in her humor."" style="max-width:100%; height:auto; border-radius:6px; margin:10px 0;" loading="lazy" /> 
Nancy and Savannah Guthrie in an undated photograph provided by NBC." style="max-width:100%; height:auto; border-radius:6px; margin:10px 0;" loading="lazy" /> 
Nancy joined daughter Savannah Guthrie on April 17, 2019, on "Today with Hoda & Jenna."" style="max-width:100%; height:auto; border-radius:6px; margin:10px 0;" loading="lazy" /> 
Savannah and Nancy Guthrie in an undated photograph provided by NBC." style="max-width:100%; height:auto; border-radius:6px; margin:10px 0;" loading="lazy" /> 
Nancy Guthrie on the "Today" show set with her daughter on June 15, 2023." style="max-width:100%; height:auto; border-radius:6px; margin:10px 0;" loading="lazy" /> 
Nancy and Savannah Guthrie in an undated photograph provided by NBC." style="max-width:100%; height:auto; border-radius:6px; margin:10px 0;" loading="lazy" /> Savannah Guthrie and her mom Nancy together through the years
"Today" anchor Savannah Guthrie's 84-year-old motherNancy Guthriewas reportedmissing in February 2026. See photos of the mother-daughter duo together through the years. Arizona officials continue to investigateNancy Guthrie's disappearance.
OnNextdoor, she posted occasional questions including, "Is it time to cover plants?" one January.she wroteshe was considering buying a doorbell camera. "Interested in seeing animal activity at night," she explained.
Over time, she faced health challenges. She had a pacemaker and relied on daily medication. With a bad back, she was often in tremendous pain, Savannah revealed. On a good day, she could walk to her mailbox. Yet she remained mentally sharp.
In the days before she went missing, she played mahjong with friends, read books and celebrated her birthday with beignets, friends told theNew York Times. Savannah described her as strong, with a quiet faith and a mischievous sense of humor.
On Sundays, her ritual was to gather at a friend's house to watch an online service from a New York church attended by Savannah, keeping grape juice on hand for communion.
On Feb. 1, when she didn't arrive on time around 11 a.m., friends alerted family members.
Annie was soon at the house, a little before noon, but she didn't find Nancy.
The Pima County Sheriff's Department arrived at the home at 12:15 p.m. There was a missing doorbell camera and blood, later confirmed to be Nancy's, outside the front door. The back door was propped open. Her phone and purse were still there.
Savannah was having a day with family when Annie called in a panic, she recalled in a "Today" interview. Annie had already called local hospitals.
"Is everything OK?" she asked Annie.
"No, mom's missing."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"She's gone."
Why would someone kidnap Nancy Guthrie?
Five feet, four inches tall. Brown hair. Blue eyes. About 150 pounds.
The missing person fliers would be distributed across the state and country, joining billboards that would be plastered along highways.
Chris Nanos, the white-haired sheriff of Pima County, a law enforcement veteran who had worked his way up to lead the 1,500-person department, concluded what Savannah and her siblings had knew instantly: This was no silver alert.
Nanos had worked on high-profile investigations before, including the 2011 shooting that killed six people and injured former Rep. Gabby Giffords. But he'd never been in the glaring national spotlight like this.
On Feb. 2, after Savannah's "Today" show co-hostsshared the news of the disappearanceto viewers, Nanos stepped in front of cameras for his firstpress conferencein the case.
He told reporters that search and rescue—using drones, heat sensors and helicopters—hadn't found the Nancy. The house, he said, was now a crime scene.
"She did not leave on her own,"he said. She was in her pajamas, with no shoes, Savannah would later reveal.
Investigators, including homicide detectives and others joined by the FBI, fanned out to speak with anyone who may have had contact with Nancy in recent days. They gathered forensic evidence. They sought home security footage from surveillance cameras at Nancy's home, one of which was missing from the front door.
"We are asking everyone to please check any security or doorbell camera footage, especially from Saturday night after 8:00 PM," theCatalina Foothills Associationsaid in a Feb. 2 email to residents seeking information from the night of Jan. 31. "Your help could make a difference."
The Sheriff's Department would assign 100 deputies and detectives to the search, a contingent that would grow to nearly 400 officers including from the FBI, who set up a 24-hour command post staffed with crisis management experts and investigators.
With no suspect, no motive and few clues, Nanos pleaded for the public's help given Nancy's precarious health and need of daily medication.
"Time is critical," Nanos said.
Camron was the first to suggest that their mom had beenkidnapped for ransom, Savannah said on "Today."
"Do you think because of me?" Savannah recalled asking.
"'I'm sorry, sweetie, but yeah, maybe," he replied.
Nancy Guthrie ransom note arrives. But is it real?
Inside the KOLD-TV's Tucson newsroom, tucked into a business park north of the city, staffers were sorting through their Monday morning anonymous tipline messages.
One got their immediate attention: A ransom demand.
"It was clear after a couple sentences that this might not be a hoax," Mary Coleman, an anchor there, said in acable news interview, explaining the email contained a specific dollar amount, a deadline and information that seemed to be "only someone who is holding her for ransom would know."
That would later be reported to include the location of an Apple watch and a light fixture at the home.
The news staff quickly passed it to investigators.
But some former FBI agents told USA TODAY the demand was unusual: Sent to media instead of the family, with no explicit proof of life or an explanation of how to contact them to negotiate or how they might get Nancy back if they paid. The family was left to wait for a second contact.
Other ransom demands would arrive at TV news stations and the celebrity tabloid TMZ, and at least one was proven to be fake. On Feb. 5, the FBI arrested aCaliforniaman who authorities say sent an "imposter ransom" to the family shortly after they publicly pleaded for her safe return.
While the legitimacy of the notes had been questioned, financial gain seemed the most likely motive.
Though Nancy had posted some progressive-leaning posts on Facebook, it didn't appear to be an ideologically motivated crime, former agents said. More likely it would be someone with knowledge of the family or the home motivated by money. Perhaps it was a robbery gone wrong?
Elderly people do go missing. But kidnapping a medically fragile 84-year-old for ransom negotiations?
Extremely rare, former FBI agents said, but not unknown.
Take the 2003 case of an 88-year-old Wisconsin grandmother kidnapped in the middle of the night and later kept chained in a snowmobile trailer while a local man familiar with her grandson's construction business sought a $3 million ransom. Five days later, she was found alive.
"They're what movies are made of because they're dramatic and scary. You don't see them playing out in real life," said Lance Leising, a former FBI agent from Phoenix. "Now you are, unfortunately. In a horrible way for the family and the victim."
A family's plea and a community's pain
A barefaced Savannah, hair middle parted and ankles crossed, held back tears as she read from a piece of white paper.
It was Feb. 4, three days after her mother disappeared.
Flanked by her older siblings Annie and Camron and sitting before a painting hung on white brick walls, Savannahdescribedher mother as kind, faithful and fiercely loving. But her health and heart were delicate.
In the video, made in consultation with the FBI, she talked directly to the potential kidnappers and urged them to reach out. She didn't want to wait any longer.
"We need to know without a doubt that she's alive and that you have her," she said.
Around Nancy's home, cable TV news cameras had begun to swell. Nearby residents noted that the neighborhood was in some ways well-suited for such a crime to go undetected.
Many homes sit on at least an acre. Houses are hidden by desert landscape, or have long driveways. That makes it difficult for home doorbell or surveillance cameras to capture activity from the road, said Russell Long, a real estate agent who lives near Nancy.
"Even if you have cameras, they're not going to show much," Long said.
It also is part of an area that gets notoriously pitch-dark at night. In 2023, nearby Saguaro National Park was certified as an Urban Night Sky Place. The area has lighting codes for properties that include shielding outdoor lights.
"We don't have streetlights because people love the night sky. The sky is full of stars and astronomy is a big part of Tucson's economy," said Tom Pew, a board member of the Catalina Foothills Association.
While many felt it was an anomaly and likely a targeted attack – and one expected to be qiuckly solved – others, like resident Chris Wilkey, 50, were shaken. He was thinking of getting dogs for his backyard.
"People are scared," he said.
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As the sun was dipping behind the Santa Catalina mountains on Feb. 4, several hundred residents streamed into St. Philip's in the Hills Episcopal Church for a vigil for Nancy's return.
In a hushed service, organized by family friends, supporters and worshipers held lit candles and prayed that the wait would soon end.
"Bring her swiftly to safety for those who she loves," a service leader said in prayer.
The investigation faces setbacks
The following day, on Feb. 5, dozens of reporters and TV cameras crowded into a packed Pima County Sheriff's briefing room.
Nanos and Heith Janke, the special agent in charge of the FBI's field office in Phoenix,laid out a new timelineof the apparent abduction — and the heartbreaking news that Nancy lacked a subscription to save any doorbell camera footage.
Despite the setback, despite the pressing deadline of the first ransom demand, they expressed hope.
"We believe Nancy is still out there," Nanos said.
Without any suspects, the FBI announced a$50,000 reward.
The agonizing wait continued. The case was getting more and more attention. "Today" gave daily updates. President Trump said on social media he was "directing ALL Federal Law Enforcement to be at the family's, and Local Law Enforcement's, complete disposal, IMMEDIATELY."
That evening the FBI was back at Nancy's home, using canines to search as they worked to track down every lead. They sought footage from nearby neighbors, traffic and business cameras. They looked at banks, social media and phone companies for digital footprints. Nanos said he was also "waiting for analysis. We're waiting for lab reports."
But by night's end on Feb. 7, the first ransom deadline had passed without proof-of-life. Still, the Guthries posted on social media saying "we will pay."
When the Feb. 9 deadline also came and went, it was unclear if Nancy was alive or if the purported ransomers actually had her.
Savannah said later on "Today" that the family still doesn't know much about the possible motive.
Was it "because she's my mom, and somebody thought, 'Oh, that girl, that lady has money, we can make a quick buck.' I mean, that would make sense, but we don't know. Which is too much to bear, to think that I brought this to her bedside," she said. "That it's because of me. And I just say 'I'm so sorry, mommy.'"
Investigators continued to search for evidence. They went to Annie's home. They returned to Nancy's to search the perimeter and what appeared to be a septic tank. They removed a camera from the roof and towed a dark-colored SUV from her garage. They canvassed nearby gas stations for footage of suspicious vehicles.
They sent evidence to labs for DNA testing.
President Donald Trump told reporters on Air Force One that same week there were "some clues, I think, that are very strong."
And behind the scenes, investigators were working with software companies, parsing through cloud servers, to try to salvage any video footage.
Surveillance images mark a breakthrough
The figure stood on Nancy's front porch, illuminated in chilling black-and-white.
A man in a face mask, an apparent gun holster in his waist, raising gloved hands.
On Feb. 10, authorities released a27-second videoshowing a person approaching Nancy's front door before walking away; another14-second videoshows the person facing the camera before covering the camera lens with brush.
In the painful wait for progress, the images were the biggest breakthrough in the case.
New images released by authorities on Feb. 10, 2026, from a Nest camera outside Nancy Guthrie's home show an armed individual appearing to have tampered with the camera at the front door on the morning of her disappearance on Feb. 1." style="max-width:100%; height:auto; border-radius:6px; margin:10px 0;" loading="lazy" /> 
Search for Nancy Guthrie and person suspected of taking her continues
New imagesreleased by authorities on Feb. 10, 2026, from a Nest camera outside Nancy Guthrie's home show an armed individual appearing to have tampered with the camera at the front door on the morning of her disappearance on Feb. 1.
The FBI described the figure as a man with a mustache, approximately 5'9" to 5'10" tall, wearing a zip jacket and a 25-liter Ozark Trail backpack sold by Wal-Mart.
Savannah called the video "just absolutely terrifying," adding: "I can't imagine that is who she saw standing over her bed. I can't, it's too much."
Investigators looked for buyers of similar backpacks in the area. They canvassed gun shops for leads on the suspect's holster.
They pursued other clues, flying drones with bluetooth-locating technology to try to locate Nancy's pacemaker.
They also parsed tens of thousands of tips that poured in.
On Feb. 10, authorities began following a man in Rio Rico, Arizona, a small community located south of Tucson closer to the Mexican border.
The reported delivery driversaid in interviewsthat he was the one they detained but was innocent. He said law enforcement searched his home.
"I think they're just guessing," he said.
Three days later, police removed a 37-year-old and his 77-year-old mother from their home two miles away from Nancy's house for a search. The man's attorney said he had nothing to do with it.
It seemed to presage an end to the family's wait, only to produce no suspects.
Will DNA help solve the case?
On Feb. 11, just over two miles from Nancy's home, investigators stooped to pick up something from the desert shrubs: a pair of black gloves, similar to those worn by the person captured on porch video.
The gloves and others also found were sent for DNA analysis to a private lab in Florida. That and other forensic evidence would be run through databases of people processed in criminal cases and familial testing. Officials also said they would seek to tap genealogical data.
The technique was used to apprehend Bryan Kohberger, who later pleaded guilty to killing four students at the University of Idaho. DNA on the weapon had a partial match to that recovered from the trash of the suspect's father.
Meantime, the award for information leading to Nancy's rescue grew to over $200,000. Missing persons billboards spanned from Texas to California.
Investigators returned to Nancy's house again, setting up a tent to reexamine theentry to the front door. The blood on the porch had been confirmed as Nancy's. Law enforcement said they had found DNA in Guthrie's home that does not belong to Nancy or those close to her, but has not provided updates on it.
On Feb. 17, preliminary findings came back:DNA collected from the gloves"nor anyDNA found at the property" did not match any entries in the FBI's Combined DNA Index System(CODIS), the Sheriff's Department said.
It was later learned that some gloves belonged to searchers who had discarded them while canvassing the neighborhood. Others were from someone working at a restaurant across the street and had nothing to do with the case.
While DNA can help solve a case, attackers in violent crimes such as murders leave behind such evidenceless than 10%of the time, past studies have suggested.
Criticism of Nanos and investigation mounts
As February ticked by, pressure for answers was growing.
So too was criticism over the investigation — much of it focused on Nanos.
The sheriff had already taken heat over his initial handling of the crime scene, quickly returning the home to the family. While crime scene tape was later put back up, critics said the time that lapsed allowed onlookers to get on the porch, possibly complicating evidence that would be reexamined.
Nanos was also criticized for attending an Arizona Wildcats college basketball game while Nancy's children were filming a response to her possible kidnapper.
Then an anonymous FBI source told Reuters that Nanos had blocked them from taking DNA to Quantico and instead sent it to a private lab.
"It risks further slowing a case that grows more urgent by the minute," an official told Reuters, citing unspecified "earlier setbacks" in the investigation. (Nanos denied the rift or any mishandling of evidence.)
Meantime, Richard Carmona, a retired Pima County Deputy Sheriff and former U.S. surgeon general, blasted Nanos in a column in theArizona Daily Staralleging "a series of avoidable missteps in messaging, coordination, and tone from senior departmental leadership."
Daniel Butierez, a Tucson Republican running in Arizona's deep-blue 7th Congressional District,is collecting signaturesfor a potential Nanos recall. And there would also be a no-confidence vote from a deputies union following an Arizona Republic report that found discrepancies in his posted work history.Pima County supervisorswould also like him to answer questions under oath.
"Haters are gonna hate," Nanos said in aWall Street Journal. "I may be a terrible politician, but I'm still a good cop."
Case draws true-crime influencers, amateur detectives
On a sunny Tucson day on Feb. 22, Lupita Tello poked the dirt with a sharp metal rod soldered to a handle near Nancy's home. After wiggling the rod in the dirt, she pulled it out and smelled the tip.
"If it smells bad like something decomposed, that's where we start,"Tello said,showing true-crime streamers how she searches for missing people in Mexico.
Tello, a member ofMadres Buscadoras de Sonora, a Mexico-based non-profit that searches for lost and missing people, were among volunteers doing what they could to help with the search.
With dwindling updates from the sheriff or FBI, manylive streamers and online true-crime personalitiesfueled speculation.
They raced to the home of Dominic Evans, an elementary-school teacher who plays drums in a band with one of Nancy's sons-in-law, the New York Times reported, leaving him hunkered inside. They even speculated someone in the family could be involved, something Savannah called "irresponsible and cruel."
That led Nanos to declare that all siblings and spouses in the Guthrie familyhad been clearedin the case.
"The Guthrie family are victims plain and simple," the sheriff said in a Feb. 16 statement and called for a stop to the "wild guesses."
Despite those struggles, the family sought to keep the disappearance in the public eye. Savannah and her family upped therewardto $1 million for any information that would lead to their mother's return. Neighbors and supporters also helped to keep attention on the case.
In town, a local station where Savannah worked hung a "bring her home" banner. People from "Today" staffers to El Charro employees continue to wear yellow ribbons.
On Nancy's street, supporters left flowers, yellow ribbons and signs.
On March 2, more than four weeks after her disappearance, Savannah,Annie and herhusband Tommaso shuffled slowly to the makeshift memorial to bring their own tribute.
They laid yellow flowers and a card there that read, in part: "We love you mommy, we miss you so much." Theyembraced each otheras Annie appeared to softly cry.
The painful wait would continue.
Hopes dim as two months pass
In late March, as the investigation approached the two-month mark, Savannah and her family urged the public for "renewed attention to our mom's case," asking residents to again look through camera footage and recall anything out of the ordinary.
But they were no longer addressing any possible kidnappers or speaking directly to Nancy in videos. Savannah repeatedly pleaded for someone to do the right thing.
"We miss our mom with every breath and we cannot be in peace until she is home. We cannot grieve; we can only ache and wonder," a family statement said on March 21. "We want to celebrate her beautiful and courageous life. But we cannot do that until she is brought to a final place of rest."
Several former FBI agents said it suggested there is little hope Nancy's alive.
"They just want closure," Eric O'Neill, a former FBI agent and cybersecurity expert said. "It can be devastating for them to just never know, for it to remain a mystery."
In a March 26 interview on "Today", Savannah said she's tortured by thinking of what her mother went through.
"I wake up every night in the middle of the night, every night. And in the darkness, I imagine her terror," she said.
Savannahsaid she believes that "the two notes that we received that we responded to, I tend to believe those were real" but others were not.
Nanos has not held a news conference since Feb. 5, though in interviews he has said police were still pursuing leads.
On March 12, Nanos toldNBCthat "we believe we know why he did this, and we believe that it was targeted" but declined to say more.
Some other emerging details have sparked more questions than answers: About footage ofa car driving just over two miles from the homearound the time Nancy disappeared. If the suspect came to the home more than once. Ifa Wi-Fi jammerwas used to interrupt Nancy's internet service the night of the crime.
Whether most leads have gone cold or investigators are quieter because they're locked in on a sensitive investigative path isn't clear, the former FBI-agents said.
DNA or video footage could still emerge to solve the case, but Leising said he thinks the case may ultimately be solved when someone talks.
"Once people think the heat's off of them, then they come out of hiding a little bit. Maybe they talk a little bit more. Maybe they brag about it one night to somebody…. But then that person decides to talk to law enforcement, because the reward is so high," Leising said.
"Someone needs to do the right thing," Savannah toldHoda Kotb. "We are in agony. It is unbearable."
For now, there is only more waiting.
Law enforcement asks anyone with information to contact 1-800-CALL-FBI ortips.fbi.gov, thePima County Sheriff's Department(520-351-4900) or88-CRIME.
Contributing: Jay Stahl and staff of USA TODAY, staff of the Arizona Republic.
This article originally appeared on USA TODAY:Nancy Guthrie update: Two months in the agonizing wait for answers