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“Hell.” Mac Carlson hit speed dial for a second time, one white knuckled hand gripped the steering wheel. Crap like this didn’t happen on his watch. Carlson Group, though new in Atlanta, ranked number one in the security business.
He punched speed dial for the third time and swerved to miss a car that pulled out in front of him. He swore at the driver and flipped him off. The idiot would have killed a less skilled driver. Why didn’t they answer the damned phone?
The Knights’ alarm had activated and then fallen silent. Why? Mac had dropped Allen Knight off earlier at a meeting downtown. Only Knight’s wife and daughter stayed home, along with the family’s personal security, of course.
Could be a false alarm. Yeah, right. Like the newly installed multi-faceted security system all malfunctioned at once, no chance. Besides, Mac trusted his instincts and alarm bells were jangling through every cell of his being. His gut said this was real, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Answer the phone.”
Where the hell was security? If Allen had allowed him to handpick the on-premise security team this wouldn’t be happening. Mac’s fist pounded the steering wheel.

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