"I think someone took her from her home," Moyer's sister, Sharon Wilbur, said Monday. "She would never leave her kids and run off on her own. That's not her."
While police haven't ruled out anything, including the possibility that Moyer ran away, Thurston County Sheriff's Lt. Chris Mealy said the evidence has him leaning toward the likelihood of foul play.
"I think something happened to her somewhere," he said Monday. "What we're basically doing is conducting a homicide investigation without the body."
The family has offered a $55,000 reward for information leading to Moyer's return but, so far, searches, complete with bloodhounds and cadaver dogs, have turned up nothing.
Moyer, a longtime financial analyst with the Washington state Department of Ecology, was last seen Friday, March 6, after dropping off a co-worker on her way home from work.
Her husband, Bill Moyer, from whom she is separated, came by her Tenino, Wash., home Sunday evening, March 8, to drop off their daughters and saw her door ajar. He then called police and reported her missing.
Mealy said Bill Moyer, who could not be reached for comment, had been questioned by police and is not considered a suspect in his wife's disappearance. The two had split amicably and had been living apart for about two years, sharing custody of their daughters, 11 and 9, through an agreement they reached outside the courts.
The house, Mealy said, looked undisturbed, with no signs of a struggle or forced entry. Moyer's purse, driver's license, credit cards, clothing and toiletries were all still at the house, and her car was parked in the driveway.
She had no history of mental problems, substance abuse or financial troubles, he said. She very rarely calls in sick to work, he said.
Beverly Poston, who has worked with Moyer for more than a decade in their Lacey, Wash., office outside Olympia, said staffers had been racking their brains to think of anything she might have said or done that could be a clue.
"It's really tough," Poston said Monday. "It's hard for people to focus. You're desperate for any type of information."
Mealy said Moyer was known to have had a few romantic relationships since her split with her husband, but no one has jumped out as a suspect.
While police continue their investigation, her friends have launched an online initiative, creating both a Web site and a Facebook page dedicated to the search for Moyer. The Facebook page has nearly 400 members so far and asks visitors to download and distribute fliers with Moyer's image and information.
The Web site emphasizes Moyer's responsible nature and includes a page that details her tattoos, including hibiscus flowers on her left hip and two cherries with the initials "A" and "S" on her right foot.
Wilbur, who lives in nearby Rochester, Wash., said she last spoke to her sister the Friday that she disappeared. The two had chatted about a recent Mary Kay party Moyer had hosted and about how she was looking forward to the weekend.
Wilbur wondered if someone grabbed her sister from her front porch where she often goes to smoke. Her house, Mealy said, is located right off a major highway. Wilbur said her greatest hope is that whoever took Moyer will let her go.
Wilbur described her only sister as a social butterfly who loved to laugh. "She'll make friends with anybody," she said.
Poston said, "The word that everybody keeps using is 'sweet.'"
Moyer's daughters have been living full-time with their father since Moyer's disappearance, Wilbur said, and have been kept busy with activities, including sleepovers and camping trips.
"They're just trying to keep their lives normal," Wilbur said. "I'm not sure they realize how severe it is at this point."
Poston said Moyer had seemed particularly upbeat lately, grateful to have a job in the tough economy and in good spirits about her daughters and her friendship with her husband. "She was always in a good mood," she said.
For now, police said they'll keep interviewing and reinterviewing anyone who may have had a relationship with Nancy Moyer or interacted with her. And they're hoping that one day the phone will ring and it will be her.
"We're kind of stumped," Mealy said.