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The woman yelped, bringing her bejeweled hand to her cashmere-clad chest. “Goodness, you scared me.”

Addison glanced at the bags of groceries arranged at the stranger’s feet and the bucket of cleaning supplies in her hand. Ah. The housekeeper.

The woman’s gaze raked over Addison. “I’m Mrs. Miriam Buckley. And you are?”

“I’m Addison. I’m… a guest of Oliver’s. Just here temporarily. Come in.”

Mrs. Buckley vacillated, giving her another once-over. “I’ve been coming here every Sunday for months, and he’s never once had a guest.”

“Well, Oliver was just as surprised as you. Here, let me help you with these.”

“You don’t have to—”

But Addison had already swept the groceries into her hands and led the way to the kitchen, flipping on the low light. “I heard he makes you clean with the curtains closed.”

Mrs. Buckley swiveled her head around the shadowed corners, as though expecting Oliver to pop out and grumble at any moment. Lowering her voice, she nodded. “Yes, and even with the lights on, it’s really hard to see.”

“I have a feeling they were installed special by Oliver.”

That drew a reluctant chuckle from Mrs. Buckley. “His first rule to me was that the curtains stay shut.”

“He gave you rules?”

“Just two. The curtains stay closed, and I stay downstairs.”

Addison studied the older woman. “So you’ve never actually seen him?”

“No,” came the mild response. “We made arrangements by phone.”

Unsurprising. “How can I help? I can do the floors.”

Mrs. Buckley waved off the offer. “No. Go relax. I’ll be out of here in under an hour.”

After spending most of the last few days in silence, thinking about poor choices, Addison needed company or she’d pull her hair out. “I really can help. Or, at the very least, how about a cup of coffee or tea?”

Mrs. Buckley wavered. “A cup of tea would be lovely, but I’ll make it. We can have a little chat while I unload the groceries.” Oliver’s housekeeper set the kettle to boil and popped a tea bag into each mug. “Milk? Sugar?”

“Please.” Whatever helped make it taste as close to a latte as possible.

Enjoying a hot beverage and some company didn’t feel the same in the murk. Crossing to the windows, Addison pulled back the curtains, letting morning sunlight fill the space. “We need light. If Oliver feels otherwise, he can come down here and tell us.”

Mrs. Buckley took the tea to the table and waited for Addison to join her. When Addison sat, she followed. “How do you know Oliver?”

“He’s… er… a friend.” There. Easy. Just don’t ask follow-up questions. “How did he hire you?”

Mrs. Buckley stirred her tea. “He rang my ad. Said he’s looking for someone to drop off groceries and do a bit of light cleaning.”

“How’s it been so far?”

“Easy. He stays out of the way.”

“He’s never come down while you’ve been here?”

“Not once, but that’s his prerogative.”

What the hell was he doing locked away in this house? It’s not like Kyle would show up on his doorstep and knock. “Have you ever come by when he wasn’t home?”

“Hard to say. I don’t think that car out front has moved once since I started.”