The union representing more than 300 Pima County sheriff's deputies has unanimously voted no confidence in Sheriff Chris Nanos and demanded his immediate resignation, a dramatic escalation driven by the stalled investigation into Nancy Guthrie's disappearance and newly surfaced details about the sheriff's own disciplinary past.
The Pima County Deputy's Organization, in a public statement, declared that Nanos should step down "to restore trust, accountability, and operational effectiveness to the Pima County Sheriff's Department." The vote was unanimous, meaning not a single member of the organization broke ranks to defend their boss.
Nancy Guthrie, a Tucson-area woman, remains missing. Her disappearance has drawn sustained public attention and, with it, withering scrutiny of how the Pima County Sheriff's Department handled the early stages of the investigation. Critics have pointed to a series of decisions that, taken together, paint a picture of a department that fumbled at critical moments.
Among the sharpest criticisms: the sheriff's department released Guthrie's home as a crime scene too quickly, a move that potentially compromised evidence collection. Investigators also failed to deploy key resources, including a search plane and cadaver dogs, tools that are standard in missing-person cases where foul play is suspected.
Those decisions have fueled a growing sense, both inside and outside the department, that the investigation was mismanaged from the start. The early criticism of Pima County's response has only intensified as weeks have turned into months with no resolution.
The no-confidence vote did not come out of nowhere. Pressure on Nanos had been building for weeks, and the Guthrie case served as an accelerant for grievances that ran much deeper than one investigation.
The Pima County Deputy's Organization told the New York Post that the vote was driven in large part by revelations about Nanos' extensive disciplinary history during his prior career in El Paso. The union said Nanos failed to disclose that history, a claim that strikes at the foundation of his credibility as the county's top law enforcement officer.
The union's statement left no room for ambiguity:
"Sheriff Chris Nanos should resign immediately to restore trust, accountability, and operational effectiveness to the Pima County Sheriff's Department."
Low morale within the department and an active recall effort have compounded the crisis. The recall push is tied in part to Nanos' handling of the Guthrie case, but the undisclosed disciplinary record has given it fresh fuel. When the people who work for you say they cannot trust you, the political math gets very difficult.
The no-confidence vote lands on a sheriff who was already facing pressure from multiple directions. Nanos has been the subject of a recall effort tied directly to the Guthrie disappearance, and his public statements about the case have drawn skepticism from families, advocates, and political opponents alike.
Nanos has previously claimed progress in the Guthrie investigation, but those assurances have done little to quiet the criticism. The gap between the sheriff's public messaging and the visible results of the investigation has become a recurring theme. At one point, Nanos suggested Guthrie's disappearance was likely "targeted" and warned that the suspect may act again, a statement that raised alarm without producing an arrest or publicly identified suspect.
The sheriff's troubles extend beyond the Guthrie case. His department has also faced a $1.35 million jail lawsuit, adding another layer of institutional controversy to an already battered administration.
Nanos first won the sheriff's office in a razor-thin election. AP News reported that incumbent Pima County Sheriff Mark Napier conceded his reelection bid roughly two weeks after the vote, having delayed the concession because the margin was so slim. Nanos won with 50.34% of the vote.
Napier, in his concession, acknowledged the result plainly:
"Now it appears certain that I have not been successful in reelection."
Napier pledged to ensure "the orderly and efficient transfer of leadership of the department to sheriff-elect Nanos." That orderly transfer now looks like a bitter irony. The man Napier handed the department to is facing calls to leave from the very deputies he was elected to lead.
Nancy Guthrie's case remains open, and authorities have not publicly confirmed whether they have identified a suspect or developed actionable leads. Investigators have not said whether the early decision to release her home as a crime scene compromised specific evidence, though the criticism implies that question looms large over the probe.
The mounting criticism of the sheriff's handling of the investigation raises a practical question that goes beyond politics: can a department in this much internal turmoil effectively run a complex missing-person case? A unanimous no-confidence vote from the rank and file does not just embarrass a sheriff. It signals a breakdown in the chain of command that can ripple into every active investigation the department touches.
Nanos has not publicly indicated he will resign. The recall effort continues to gather momentum, and the no-confidence vote hands organizers a powerful talking point. When more than 300 sworn deputies say their sheriff cannot be trusted, the argument for removal writes itself.
The undisclosed disciplinary history from El Paso is a separate but overlapping problem. Voters and deputies alike are now asking what else Nanos may have failed to disclose, and whether the department's leadership has been operating under a cloud of concealment from the beginning.
For the Guthrie family, none of this political drama changes the central fact: Nancy Guthrie is still missing. Every day the investigation stalls, the trail grows colder. The family deserves answers, and right now the department tasked with finding those answers cannot even agree on whether its own leader should keep his job.
A badge is supposed to mean accountability. When the people who wear it say the person at the top has lost their trust, the public has every reason to ask whether justice in Pima County is being led or just being managed.
