A Political Pariah in a Legal Pickle Barrel

Michele Fiore is a woman whose penchant for politics and personal finance seems tangled up like a cat in a knitting basket. Once a Justice of the Peace in the fine town of Pahrump, Fiore faces the justice she once dispensed, and she is none too pleased about it.

It all started with a noble cause—a memorial for fallen police officers. A fundraiser, donations, and seventy thousand dollars materialized like a puff of magic smoke.

But instead of erecting a grand tribute to the boys in blue, that money allegedly went into a different kind of ceremony—her daughter’s wedding. Now, weddings are fine affairs, full of joy, tears, and bills long enough to make a banker faint, but they do not, by most legal definitions, constitute a police memorial.

A jury found Fiore guilty of wire fraud, a fancy way of saying she took money under one pretense and spent it under another. As a result, she was booted from her position in October without a gavel, a paycheck, or a friend on the bench.

But Fiore is not one to go quietly. No, sir. She has filed for a new trial, citing a grand collection of grievances—everything from biased witnesses to an attorney who, if her filing is correct, defended her about as well as an umbrella defends against a hurricane.

Her legal woes, however, are not without a political backdrop. Fiore, a longtime firebrand and unapologetic supporter of Donald Trump, has been a target of political slings and arrows since before 2020. Whether one sees her as a martyr of partisan persecution or merely reaping the rewards of a poorly managed charity drive depends on where one sits on the political spectrum.

Among the star witnesses in this courtroom drama was Fiore’s daughter, Sheena Siegel, who found herself in a bit of a predicament when confronted with checks that bore either her signature or her mother’s—she wasn’t quite sure which. When prosecutors pressed her on whether she was, at that very moment, confessing to a federal crime, a quick trip to the legal department was in order. The next day, she promptly invoked the Fifth Amendment.

Nicole Beck, another witness, took the stand and reportedly delivered testimony so emotional it could have sold tickets. The defense took issue, arguing people were available to explain the statute in question without evoking tears that could sway a jury. Then, there was Governor Joe Lombardo, whose name alone added a touch of drama to the proceedings.

Fiore’s defense, however, was not what one might call airtight. According to her filing, her attorney fumbled pretrial motions, allowed evidence to be admitted that should have been excluded, and generally provided a level of legal representation best described as “lacking.” Whether this will be enough to secure her a new trial remains to be seen, but prosecutors had until February 14 to respond.

And then, come March 10, Fiore will find out just how much all this legal wrangling has bought her—freedom or further trouble. Either way, it’ll be another chapter in the long and winding saga of a woman who has never been one to shrink from a fight, no matter the odds or the evidence.