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ROGUES: TALES FROM THE VALLEY Search for Sherry leads through Talent In which Blue comes along and a neighbor helps retrace missing sister's steps Comment By Lyda Woods DailyTidings.com By Lyda Woods Posted Oct. 27, 2014 at 2:22 PM Updated Oct 27, 2014 at 5:48 PM By Lyda Woods Posted Oct. 27, 2014 at 2:22 PM Updated Oct 27, 2014 at 5:48 PM » RELATED CONTENT • Laying out the dots, looking for connections • Talking turkey: What's in a nickname? • Squeezing psyches in the aisles at Shop’n Kart • ROGUES: Tales from the Valley: Sherry and Dawn prepare for a psychodrama weekend... • Escape from the mummy like a Marx brothers' comedy • Another empty house blown up, and something smells funny • Babycakes comes along on a trip to the hypnotist • Sisters talk about something other than their late, maybe not-so-great dad... • Yoga class ends with a bang, not a whimper • Sibling rivalry spices lunch, but affection sweetens it » Social News Part 6 of the fictionalized adventures of two sisters, Sherry and Dawn, one Medford-bred, the other Ashland-loving, and their adventures across the Rogue Valley. Find prior chapters at www.dailytidings.com. Sherry has been missing for a week, no word, no ransom note, nothing. Ray and I filed a missing persons report as soon as the Medford Police would let us and talked with a detective. I couldn’t sleep or concentrate on anything but Sherry. I talked about her with my new roommate, a private investigator from San Francisco and a friend of Jasmine’s, Blue Bruzzone. Blue moved to the Rogue Valley to work with Jasmine on some of her legal cases and escape the high cost of living in the city. She was 60 years old, a former cop, and loved dogs. “Can we do anything ourselves?” I asked Blue over coffee in our kitchen. “Of course. What were you thinking?” Babycakes jumped in Blue’s lap. “I can’t forget what she said to me. That the house bombings were organized.” Tarzan jumped into my lap. We were all assembled. “Do you think she knew more than she was telling you?” “Maybe. I don’t know. But I want to DO something to find her.” “Let’s go do some old-fashioned snooping.” Blue patted my hand. She had blue streaks in her short grey bob, and wore an embroidered Guatemalan vest over blue jeans and a black T-shirt. We decided to visit the last place that Sherry was seen, her office on Main Street near the Sunrise Café. Renata, Sherry’s admin assistant, told us that the last time she’d seen Sherry was when she walked out the door to show a foreclosed home in Talent near Bear Creek. “What do you know about this home she was showing?” Blue asked. “Just rumors.” Renata bit her pen; her nails already bitten to the quick. “Tell us.” I said. “I heard that it used to be a drug house before the bank repossessed it. Too bad. It’s a beautiful home, granite counters, wood floors, back yard leading into the creek.” “Anything else?” “You should talk with the neighbors. They know more than I do.” The phone rang and Renata answered it. We parked down the street from what once had been a high-end Craftsman-style home. Now the front door was boarded over with plywood, the fence torn apart, the plants withered and the windows black. It was hard to stomach that this derelict sat in a cul de sac of beautiful homes, with people walking dogs, children on scooters and people tending their gardens. Then I noticed several homes nearby for sale. We knocked on a neighbor’s door, hearing booming barking and footsteps. A beefy man answered the door, clad in construction clothes, dusty jeans, work boots and a flannel shirt. Behind him, two enormous dogs howled and pushed at his legs. After we introduced ourselves, Chuck gave us his perspective on the abandoned home. “I got the dogs after we started seeing some strange things going on at that house,” he said. “Like what?” “People coming and going at all hours. Loud music. Even gun shots. I called the police a couple of times. They told me that the previous owner was arrested and the bank took the house. The bank didn’t care; they just let the place rot.” “So who were all these people?” I asked. “No idea. The police finally got ‘em all out but it took a long time and sometimes they come back.” As we walked back to the car, I said, “Why would anyone want to buy that place? “We need to check out who her client was.” As Blue shut the car door, it happened. The house blew, shattering, shaking the ground, knocking us to our knees. Next week: A scary visit to the Ashland Elks building on Ashland's Main Street on Halloween. By Lyda Woods DailyTidings.com By Lyda Woods Posted Oct. 27, 2014 at 2:22 PM Updated Oct 27, 2014 at 5:48 PM » Comment or view comments Reader Reaction » STAY INFORMED Email NewsLetter Sign Up Today Sign up for our newsletter and have the top headlines from your community delivered right to your inbox. Southern Oregon Directory Featured Businesses Loading... 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