I wondered if she’d been keeping tabs on me for awhile. And I wondered why she’d referred to Jake as ‘that other man’ with barely concealed venom.
Her face clouded over and she stared into her coffee again. “And, of course, stupid Helen.”
“Stupid Helen?” I asked.
Olga’s eyes narrowed and she set her cup down on the table. She placed her hands flat on her thighs and looked at me.
“Yes,” she said, glowering. “Stupid, horrid, waste of a human Helen.”
Now we were getting somewhere.
NINETEEN
“Let’s just say Helen and I don’t see eye to eye and it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s taller than me,” Olga said, picking up her coffee mug again.
“Why’s that?” I asked, trying to sound vaguely interested without coming off as totally intrusive.
“Mainly because I think she’s a lying shrew.”
“Oh.”
She stared at the mug like she was going to take a bite out of it. “That woman ruined my brother. From day one. But he wouldn’t listen to me. I tried to warn him off, but he just got sucked in by that succubus.” She snarled at the cup and took a sip. She licked at her lips. “I can’t think of one good thing that came from their relationship. Not one good thing.”
I looked around, but the clowns started freaking me out again, so I moved my gaze back to her. “So you were happy about the divorce then?”
“Oh, you betcha,” she said, nodding furiously. “You betcha. I was so glad. It wouldn’t be soon enough if I never saw her again.”
“I don’t want to pry, but Olaf and I didn’t talk about our divorces when we went to dinner,” I said carefully. “Why did he and Helen get divorced?”
“Because she’s a horrible creature who would be better off living at the bottom of a lake where she could bottom feed for the rest of her pathetic life,” she said. “Among other things.”
“Right,” I said, sipping the coffee.
She waved her hand in the air. “They just didn’t get along. At all. Anything that interested Olaf, Helen would belittle or dismiss. The only things that mattered were the things that mattered to Helen.” Her eyes narrowed again. “And I think she stepped out on him.”
“You mean had an affair?”
She tugged at the lapel on her blazer. “Olaf told me I didn’t know what I was talking about, but I always had a suspicion. No proof so there wasn’t anything I could do about it.” A small smile creased her lips. “But when Olaf told me they were getting a divorce, I couldn’t help but hug him. He wasn’t too happy about that.”
“I’m sure,” I said.
“And either was Helen,” she said, still smiling. “Pretty sure there was a lot of crying and whining that night.”
I replayed that last sentence in my head again. “Wait. Helen wasn’t happy with the divorce?”
She glanced at me like I was crazy. “Shoot no, she wasn’t. She had it good with Olaf. He worked, made good money. The house was paid for. She was the happy housewife. When he told her wanted out, she saw the gravy train leaving town.” She shook her head. “She was not happy in any way at all.”
The wheels were spinning in my head. “But I heard that she was the one who wanted the divorce and that Olaf wasn’t sure about it.”
She shook her head. Adamantly. “No way, no how. She promised him that things would change and I think, at first, maybe he thought about staying with her. But then nothing changed and he was still miserable and he told her they were done.” Olga smiled. “And Helen cried and cried and cried.”
I pressed my lips together and thought back to my conversation with Helen. That was a far different story than what she’d told me in the library.
“And he would’ve asked you out again, like I said,” Olga said, the mug gripped tightly in her hands. “But she just wouldn’t leave him alone.”
I swallowed. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. I’d been singularly unimpressed with my date with Olaf and had had no intentions of seeing him again. “What do you mean?” I asked. And then, for clarification, I added, “About Helen not leaving him alone?”
She frowned. “She wouldn’t give it up,” she said. “When they were going through the divorce, she’d ‘forget’ to show up at meetings with the lawyer. She’d ‘forget’ to sign papers that had to be signed. She’d call him over and pretend something needed fixing when all she wanted was to try and talk him out of it again. Anytime he tried to really separate from her, she used her tentacles to pull him back in.” She paused. “I know she did something after your date with him, but I can’t remember what. I know he was mad, though.” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “She just wouldn’t leave him alone. I’m not sure who you heard what from, but there was no way she wanted the divorce. Olaf did, plain and simple.”
So someone was lying. I just wasn’t sure who. Olaf certainly hadn’t seemed like the kind of person who had it in him to lie, but what did I know? I’d only spent a couple of hours with him. Olga was certainly biased in her opinion of Helen and toward her brother—and probably slightly insane—but that might’ve just been sibling favoritism. And I had yet to figure out Helen.
Which left me nowhere.
I set the mug down on the table. “So let me ask you this, then. Why did you think I killed your brother?”
A sheepish look crossed her face. “I was mad. You were an easy target.” She looked at me. “But I asked around a little. I don’t really think you did anything to Olaf.”
And yet she accused me several times before tackling me on the sidewalk. In the snow. Insanity was looking more and more plausible.
“Could Helen have done something to him?” I asked.
She stared into her coffee for a long moment, then turned her attention back to me. “I don’t think so.”
“But you said she was giving him such a hard time…”
“Oh, you bet she was,” she said, her brows furrowing together. “But he was her golden ticket. He took care of her. I think she thought he’d still come back to her. I know she still wanted him back. She was mad at him, but I don’t think she would’ve hurt him because that would’ve meant the end of her free ride.” She shook her head slowly. “As much as I’d like to blame her, I don’t think it was Helen.”
I shifted my weight, trying to get comfortable on her lopsided couch. “So then who?”
She thought hard for a moment. “I honestly don’t know anyone who would’ve wanted to hurt Olaf. It’s not like he had enemies or anything.”
Which made me think maybe Helen did actually have something to do with his death.
Olga glanced at the clock on the wall, a skinny clown whose arms moved in circles. “I don’t mean to be rude but I need to get downstairs. We have a viewing tonight and Mildred isn’t ready yet.”
“Mildred? Is that a co-worker of yours?”
Olga covered her mouth, snorting with laughter. “No.”
I nodded and stood. I didn’t think I wanted to know who Mildred was…or what she needed to do to get her ready.
“Thank you for the coffee,” I told her. “And for sharing your thoughts.”
Olga stood, too, and brushed at the lapels on her blazer. “I just want to know why.”
“And who,” I said.
She eyed me for a moment. “You really didn’t do it, did you? Tell me you didn’t do it.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t kill Olaf. I swear.”
She thought about that, then nodded. “Okay. I believe you.” Then something flashed through her eyes. “You have kids, right? I think I remember seeing them when we were, you know, fighting or whatever.”
“Yes,” I said, unsure why she was asking. If she was about to insinuate that one of them might be responsible for her brother’s death, I’d have definite confirmation of her insanity. “Four.”
“Well, I bet they have birthdays,” she said, smiling brightly.
I stared at her in confusion. How had we gone from discussing her brother’s death and personal life to my kids’ birthdays?