The Codicil

Savannah was incredulous. "How can the codicil to the will be considered valid? You know how Auntie Bess was acting before she died."

Her Aunt's lawyer, Gilbert Johns III, remained silent. Savannah continued pacing over the thick carpet, her sleek, black hair streaming behind her as she clicked her fingernails. She gave another impatient sigh and plopped down in a chair. "Well?"

Gilbert leaned back, his fingers linked and resting on his corpulent mid-section.
"Savannah," he began with exaggerated patience in his tone. "I've explained the problem again and again. Contest the will and you lose everything."

"But it’s absurd!" she wailed. "You have to tell me what to do."

Gilbert leaned forward. "Simple. Do what your aunt requires. Find Robert Stanford and give him the envelope."

"But she spent twenty years looking for him and failed," Savannah replied. "How can she expect me to do any better?"

"I wish I knew,” Gilbert said. “However, if you don't succeed within the next sixty days, the twenty million goes to Galahad.”

Savanna’s mouth dropped open. "The cat?"