Chapter 2

By the time Vickie's funeral and the reception afterwards were over, it was late in the afternoon. Meredith originally had no intentions of going to the reception, but Bonnie had dragged her to it. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable with death; she'd been dealing with loss since a very young age. What she found the most difficult was trying to navigate amongst the living after they'd experienced a death. It was inevitable that you always said the wrong thing because there was nothing right to say. 'I'm sorry' was especially inconsequential.

For poor Vickie's sake Meredith managed to endure a couple hours of strained conversation. Around three, however, she couldn't take anymore and would have given anything to escape the horribly claustrophobic church basement. She tried to make a quiet retreat, but noticed Bonnie eyeing her as soon as she put her coat on.

"Where are you going?" Bonnie asked. "I thought you were coming over to my house afterwards."

Thinking quickly, Meredith tried to come up with something her friend would buy. Until she'd talked to George Watkins, she was reluctant to tell anyone that her grandfather had passed away. "Anna asked me to pick her up from the grocery store. I figured I'd slip out early to go do that, then come over to your house." Meredith kept her tone nonchalant and her face expressionless.

Bonnie studied Meredith's face questioningly for a moment. Fortunately she'd never had much of a suspicious nature. "Okay," she said, adding a nod that made her red curls bounce lightly. "Can you pick up the movies too? Nothing with killing, shooting, or airplanes though. I've been watching movies with Matt the last three nights and that's all he's into. Light on dialogue, heavy on macho."

Normally Meredith would have commented on Bonnie spending so much time with Matt, but she was too distracted. "Sure, no problem," she said, only having a vague notion of what had been said and agreed to. She would have agreed even if the request was running around the church in the buff if it meant getting out of there.

As she was leaving the church, Meredith knew that her mind should have been focused on the upcoming meeting with her grandfather's lawyer. Yet somehow her thoughts drifted to the conversation she'd had just that morning with Damon. What had he meant by look him up if she was ever in Italy? She had no plans of going there anytime soon. It was probably just another cryptic Damon comment.

'I can show you things you wouldn't believe'…I'm sure, Meredith thought sarcastically. Like how to "nuzzle" my neck in his bedroom most likely.

Meredith was eternally grateful that Damon had saved his breath as far as she was concerned. He'd always had more of an eye for blonde vixens, like Elena, or red-headed pixies ala Bonnie. Not that his preference in women had ever bothered Meredith. From their first acquaintance with Damon, she hadn't liked him one bit. There was just something about him that was a little too suave. Seducing women was like breathing to him; he'd had five hundred years to perfect his art after all.

At least he was officially out of all their lives forever. Dismissing the dark-haired lothario from her mind, Meredith turned her attention to the task at hand. The card George Watkins had left last night and the black and white picture were both in her purse. She'd already figured out where his office was located the night before.

The office Meredith pulled up in front of wasn't very impressive from the outside. It was painted a bland beige color, the same as every other building near the centre of town. Stenciled on the large glass window that looked into a waiting room was 'Watkins Legal Practice' and just below that was 'George Watkins LLP'. The exterior certainly wasn't very impressive for a lawyer. To Meredith it looked like something you'd pick out of the Yellow Pages because it would likely be cheap.

Upon entering the office, however, Meredith realized where all the money must go. All the furniture was sleek black leather or glossy dark cherry wood. Her shoes were nearly swallowed by the plush, rose-colored carpet. Tasteful, yet modern art work adorned nearly every wall. Don't judge a book by its cover, she mentally chided herself.

A blonde woman wearing a white blouse and grey skirt, standard receptionist wear, greeted her from behind a desk with a friendly smile. "How can I help you?" she asked, flashing perfect veneers.

"I'm here to see Mr. Watkins," Meredith said, trying not to let her nervousness show. "My name's Meredith Sulez. I don't have an appointment, but he said it would be okay if I dropped in any time."

"Ah, of course," the receptionist responded. "George said I should expect you or your father any time. You must be Meredith." It was the second time within twenty-four hours that a complete stranger knew who she was. Meredith felt very discomfited by this. "Let me show you to his office."

Meredith followed the receptionist down an oak-paneled hallway. She was ushered into an office and the door was closed behind her. Looking up from his desk, George Watkins didn't seem overly surprised to see her. "Ah, I thought you would be in fairly soon," he said, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling with his smile. "Please, take a seat." Sitting down, she wondered how to best broach the subject of the picture. Her grandfather's lawyer appeared to believe she was there for another reason, though.

Spinning around in his chair, George opened a filing cabinet immediately behind him and pulled out a file. He turned around and picked up a pair of reading glasses from the desk. Placing the file on his desk, he opened it and scanned through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "Here we go. This is the part of your grandfather's will that pertains to you. Would you like to see it yourself or should I read it out loud?"

Meredith wasn't overly interested in the will; she didn't require or need anything her grandfather might have left her. Since she was here, however, she figured they might as well get that part out of the way. "You can read it, if you don't mind."

"'To my granddaughter, Meredith, I leave my villa in Rome, all property taxes to be paid from a trust fund I have established in her name. Aside from the property taxes, Meredith is free to spend the remaining funds as she so—'"

"What trust fund?" Meredith held up a hand to stop him, highly perplexed. "I'm sure my father would have mentioned something to me about that."

"Actually, it was your grandfather's preference that no one in the family knew the particulars of his financial history until the time of his passing. Your father knows nothing of the villa or the trust fund."

"Okay," she replied slowly. "But why would he want to keep everything secret until after his death? That doesn't make sense."

"I'm afraid I don't know," George said, spreading his hands apart in a lawyerly shrug. "I was your grandfather's friend, but also his lawyer. When it came to matters such as these, I had no choice except to act according to the wishes of my client."

Studying George Watkins inconspicuously from beneath her lashes, Meredith had to wonder if she could trust him. Did he truly have her grandfather's best wishes at heart or his own agenda to fulfill? She desperately wanted to believe he was earnest in how he carried out her grandfather's last requests, would have given anything to trust someone with intimate knowledge of his past. It was only her usual reserve that kept her from flinging questions at him wildly.

"Would you like me to continue reading the will?" Meredith nodded and he turned his attention back to the document before him. "'Aside from the property taxes, Meredith is free to spend the remaining trust fund as she so desires. The total sum of the trust fund being ten million dollars—'"

"Ten what?" The usual control she maintained slipped entirely as she gasped in shock.

"Ten million dollars," George repeated, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I take it you had no idea your grandfather was very wealthy. He's left an equal amount to your father and step-mother."

Meredith's mind was reeling, trying to absorb what she'd just heard and make sense of it. Her grandfather had left her a villa in Rome and more money than she'd ever imagined having in her life. How had no one in her family known that her grandfather was so rich? And where had all the money come from?

"I'm beginning to suspect there's a lot about him that I didn't know." Meredith spoke grimly, her dark eyes cast downward in thought. She decided that now was the time to ask what she'd truly come for. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the black and white photograph. "Do you know who this is?" Placing the picture on the desk, she pointed to the man standing next to her grandfather.

George's eyes widened as he studied the picture, an expression of sheer disbelief crossing his face. "Where did you get this?" he demanded, looking at Meredith sharply.

"I found it in the trunk of my grandfather's possessions that you brought over last night. The man in this photograph looks very similar to someone…I wish I'd never had the misfortune of meeting." She spoke frankly, deciding not to beat around the bush.

"You've met him?" Bushy eyebrows furrowed together as George mentally did the math. "Kane would be a very old man by now, though. How did you even recognize him from this picture?"

"He hadn't changed much," she said wryly. "His name was Kane? Did he ever go by anything else? Or have a relative who looked very similar to him?"

George tried to keep up with the barrage of questions. "Well, yes," he admitted reluctantly. "Kane had a twin brother. I can't quite recall his name..."

"Does 'Klaus' ring any bells?"

"Yes! That was it." He tried to suppress an involuntary shudder. "I only met him a couple times for which I was very grateful. Kane was…eccentric. An egomaniac whom did everything without fear. His brother, however, was truly unhinged. They both radiated power in their own way, but while Kane wanted to save the world from itself, Klaus wanted only to add to its destruction. He was insane."

You have no idea, Meredith thought to herself, her mind racing wildly. So Klaus had a twin—there was a terrifying notion. The brother, Kane, must have been—or still was—a vampire too. From their confrontation with Klaus, she could dimly recall him saying something like he was indestructible because he was one of the 'Old Ones', the 'Originals'. Fortunately his immortality had come to a swift end thanks to Elena and some pissed off ghosts.

Even if her grandfather hadn't been directly involved with Klaus, he'd belonged to the same organization as his brother, who was in all likelihood also a vampire. The mystery surrounding the picture she'd found only appeared to deepen.

"So the man in this picture is definitely Kane?" Meredith asked for verification.

"Yes, he's the only one John was friends with. Kane and his brother usually clashed, if I recall correctly. As a result Klaus wasn't around much and when he was, it was usually to stir up trouble."

"How did you and my grandfather meet Kane?" Leaning forward in her chair, Meredith was attentive and focused.

The expression on George's face was one of obvious discomfort. It was clear he didn't want to delve too deeply into the memories the photograph stirred up. "John and I met him during the second world war," he finally admitted with reluctance. "We were all in the same squad, stationed just outside of France. Kane and your grandfather became close friends. John even worked for him after the war. They remained good friends for a long time before they had some sort of falling out."

"Over what?"

With a tired sigh, George ran a hand over his haggard face. Then he leaned forward in his chair, the blue eyes that held a lifetime of wisdom and knowledge meeting her gaze earnestly. "Listen, Meredith. There are things here—" he tapped the picture with one finger—"in the past, that are best left buried. Sometimes stirring up old ghosts only leads to trouble."

Meredith gave him a kind, yet determined smile. "I have a right to know why my grandfather and this man were friends. Were they in some sort of club together? They have identical rings."

"I suppose you could call it a 'club'," he replied sarcastically.

"What would you call it?"

"A lifetime prison sentence is much more appropriate." There was a pause and another heavy sigh. "You don't want to hear this stuff. It will only serve to tarnish the memory of your grandfather."

"Right, my 'precious' childhood memories," Meredith said sardonically. The steady look she gave her grandfather's old friend was laced with a bitter understanding of how cruel life could be. While she might have appeared eighteen, anyone gazing into her eyes that were the shade of blackberries would have thought her much older. "One of my earliest memories of my grandfather is when he tried to kill me and my grandmother with a butcher knife. After that I only saw him in the institution where he was so doped up on drugs all he could do was drool. So there really isn't much you could tarnish any further than it already is."

George didn't appear taken aback by her complete honesty, merely fascinated. "There's a lot of John in you, you know. He had the same stubbornness and determination."

"Does that mean you'll tell me what I want to know?"

"I see you also inherited his directness," George replied with an amused smile. Removing his glasses, he sat back in his chair and gazed off into the distance for a long moment, seeming to gather his thoughts and memories. "John and I were sophomores in college when the war broke out. Both our families weren't very wealthy so we had to scrimp and save for our tuition. When they started recruiting for overseas, though, we knew our duty didn't lie on a campus. We both wound up in the same unit, over in Europe, which was where we met Kane."

"He fought for the States?" Meredith had to wonder why a vampire would want to fight for a human cause. There were decent ones like Stefan she supposed; then again on the opposite end of the spectrum there was Klaus. And Kane had been his brother.

"I'm not sure Kane fought for anything but the sheer thrill of it actually," George mused aloud. "The bastard would laugh and spit in the face of danger. All of us would pray to see the light of another day, except for Kane. He wasn't afraid of anything. In fact, he appeared to relish in the destruction caused by war. Violence and chaos were what he got off on. We all called him 'The Crazy Son of a Bitch'. After awhile it became an official title of sorts."

"Did he and my grandfather become friends right away?"

George hesitated and an inner struggle ensued as he debated about how much to reveal. "What the hell," he muttered more to himself than Meredith. Reaching into one of his lower desk drawers, he pulled out a bottle of amber-hued rum and a crystal glass. "I have an extra glass if you'd like," he offered, but she shook her head. Filling up the glass half way, he tossed back the rum and grimaced in satisfaction.

"John and Kane didn't instantly hit it off, no," he continued as though there had been no break in story-telling. "That didn't happen until a few months into our tenure in Europe. Our unit was stationed in France, but we spent a lot of time performing raids. It was late April when we were sent on one in Luxemburg. We were told it would be an easy grab. The building was supposedly run by civilians and there weren't many enemy soldiers in the area. It was without a doubt the easiest raid of my military career." George laughed, but it was caustic and harsh.

"What was it?" Meredith's voice came out in a fervent whisper.

"Even Kane wasn't quite prepared for what we found. At first we thought the building had been abandoned. The Intel we received said it was an apartment building, but there was no one there. That was when one of the men found an underground tunnel…"

George filled his glass with more rum, this time nearly to the rim.

"It was a camp."