Cameron Guthrie, the younger brother of NBC “Today” co-anchor Savannah Guthrie, delivered the family’s most direct and emotionally raw appeal yet in a 40-second video released on February 6, 2026—the seventh day since their 84-year-old mother, Nancy Guthrie, disappeared from her Tucson home in what authorities continue to treat as a targeted abduction. Standing between Savannah and sister Annie, Cameron looked straight into the camera with red-rimmed eyes and a trembling voice: “If you’re watching this, please reach out. We haven’t heard anything directly. We just need to know she’s okay.” The short clip, posted to the family’s joint Instagram account, quickly amassed millions of views and thousands of shares, amplifying the growing national desperation for Nancy’s safe return.

The plea came at a critical moment. No verified communication from the person or people responsible for Nancy’s disappearance had reached the family. A credible ransom note—delivered to media outlets and containing specific details only the abductor(s) would know—demanded millions in Bitcoin by February 9, but investigators have not confirmed any follow-up contact or proof-of-life. Meanwhile, opportunistic hoax messages, including those sent by arrested imposter Derrick Callella, have been definitively ruled out as unrelated. The absence of any direct word from the abductor left the Guthries in an agonizing limbo, with Nancy’s age, limited mobility, and dependence on daily prescription medications making every passing hour more dangerous.

The video captured the siblings at their most vulnerable. Cameron’s composure cracked as he repeated the family’s willingness to engage: “We are ready to talk. We are ready to listen. Whatever it takes.” Annie stood silently beside him, tears streaming, while Savannah nodded in quiet support, her face etched with exhaustion and resolve. They reiterated Nancy’s urgent medical needs—”She needs her medication. Time matters”—and begged for any sign that their mother was still alive. The message ended with Savannah looking directly into the lens: “Mom, if you can hear us, we love you. We’re doing everything we can.” Cameron’s final words—”Please just reach out”—hung heavy, a simple, desperate bridge across the silence separating the family from whoever holds Nancy’s fate.

Behind the scenes, the investigation remains intense but without a publicly named suspect. Pima County Sheriff Chris Nanos described the crime scene evidence as pointing to a “sophisticated” and “targeted” intrusion: blood droplets trailing from the entryway through the house to the driveway, drag marks consistent with forced removal, signs of forced entry, and no trace of Nancy’s phone, wallet, or keys—items inconsistent with voluntary departure. Most telling was the home security system: the Ring doorbell camera bracket sat empty, its device removed, and the entire system went dark at exactly 12:38 a.m., with no footage after that timestamp. Investigators believe the blackout was deliberate, executed by someone familiar with the system’s layout, codes, placement, and potential vulnerabilities.

The U.S. Coast Guard, FBI, Border Patrol, and homicide detectives have mobilized extensive resources: helicopters, K-9 units, digital forensics teams analyzing cell tower data and potential DNA from blood samples, and canvassing of neighboring surveillance cameras. President Trump publicly directed “all law enforcement” to assist, while Attorney General Pam Bondi and FBI Director Kash Patel have engaged directly, underscoring the case’s priority. A $50,000 reward remains active for credible information leading to Nancy’s recovery or the arrest and conviction of those responsible.

The family’s previous public appeals had already drawn massive attention, but Cameron’s direct address marked an escalation in tone—from broad pleas to a personal, almost intimate message aimed squarely at the abductor(s). “We haven’t heard anything directly” was the line that resonated most powerfully online, encapsulating the family’s torment: seven days of silence, no demands, no proof-of-life, only the knowledge that an elderly woman with chronic health conditions is missing and likely without her essential medications.

Community response in Tucson has been profound. Vigils at St. Philip’s in the Hills Episcopal Church, where Nancy was a devoted longtime member, now draw hundreds nightly—candles flickering in the desert darkness as people pray for her return. Neighbors in the quiet, affluent Catalina Foothills subdivision remain shaken, many adding extra security cameras and motion lights after learning the intrusion appeared planned and precise. Online, the hashtag #BringNancyHome trended nationally, with thousands sharing the video and offering support, prayers, and stories of their own missing loved ones.

The imposter case involving Derrick Callella—arrested February 5 after sending hoax Bitcoin demands—provided a brief moment of accountability but no relief in the central investigation. Callella, already facing grand theft charges in a separate unemployment fraud scheme, admitted to exploiting media coverage for his own gain. His swift capture demonstrated the FBI’s ability to trace digital footprints quickly, yet it underscored how high-profile cases attract predators who compound a family’s suffering.

As day seven unfolded, the Guthries’ video served as both a cry for help and a stark reminder of time’s cruel pressure. Nancy’s age and medical needs make prolonged absence increasingly life-threatening. Every hour without contact or proof-of-life intensifies fears that the window for a safe outcome is narrowing. The family’s willingness to negotiate—privately, directly, or through any channel—has been stated repeatedly, yet silence persists.

Millions watching across the country and beyond felt the weight of Cameron’s plea. In living rooms, churches, and online communities, people paused, hearts heavy, praying that somewhere, someone is watching—and that this raw, human appeal will finally break through the darkness and bring Nancy Guthrie home to the family refusing to give up on her.