I sent word to every person who traveled through my home and workplace the day my wife vanished. I am eagerly waiting for a response from the parties.
—The journal of Isaac Ryland
It was the morning of Grant’s wedding. He woke extra early and reviewed the security detail for that night.
“Sir,” a guard said.
Grant turned to look toward him. It was 7:03 A.M. He’d expected this person two minutes ago.
“There has been a problem,” he said. “We need your assistance.”
Faking concern, Grant followed the man up to the room housing Ian’s body. Grant held a hand over his mouth and looked away.
“It appears he took his own life,” a guard said.
“We have notified the heads of the service branches,” the other guard said. “They are on their way here.”
Anger flared in Grant’s mind. He should have been consulted before that decision was made.
“Cover him up,” Grant said. “I don’t want anyone to see him like this. Was there a note?”
One of the guards handed Grant the papers he had planted while the other pulled the blanket over him.
“He did seem sullen,” Grant said. “But I did not see this coming.”
The knife fell as the guard covered up Ian’s body. Grant bent down and picked it up, examining it as if he had never seen it before.
“And in such a gruesome manner,” Grant said.
The heads of the navy, army, marines, and air force sat in Grant’s office. He had never felt such power.
“This is a terrible development,” one said.
“And on the day of your wedding.”
“It makes sense,” another said. “If he thought you were ready to take over.”
“He did speak highly of you.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Grant said. He pulled his shirt forward. “He did gift me this last night; maybe it was his way of saying good-bye.”
The small American flag pin Ian had loved so much was prominent on Grant’s attire.
“I think it is best we keep this quiet now,” Grant said. “There is no need to mix sorrow with celebration.”
“How would you like to proceed?”
“We explain his absence with word that he fell ill,” Grant said. “Tomorrow a press conference will be held stating that he died during the night. Nobody will know of his suicide.”
“That is kind of you, to keep his memory intact.”
Grant nodded his head at the men. One of them stood up from his chair and got down on a knee. The other three followed and bowed their heads. Grant could not contain his grin. Today he was in total control.