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Page 159
'Sure, but I don't think . . .' She shut her mouth, probably recalling her father's command to obey Denise. 'It's right over there,' she said. She turned from the doorway and nodded toward a closed door just beyond the stove.
'It's not outside, is it?'
'Huh-uh.'
'Where are those flashlights and candles you talked about right after we heard the thunder?'
Kara looked relieved. 'Everywhere. Well, not everywhere. I've got a couple of flashlights in my bedroom and Dad has a big red thing by his bed. It's real bright.'
'Is there one here in the kitchen?'
'Yeah, right where I got the hammer from.'
Why hadn't she mentioned that in the first place? Come on, Denise told herself. She's just a kid.
'OK, what about candles?'
'You mean just in the kitchen? Because we've got candles in a lot of . . .'
'Just here in the kitchen.'
'Yeah. Mom keeps some in her junk drawer.'
'Matches?'
Without saying a word, Kara turned around and reached high. She snagged a wicker basket off the top of the refrigerator and pulled it down. The basket was filled with matchbooks. 'Mom collects them. Wherever she goes, she gets matches. They're souvenirs. These are extras, though. She won't mind if we use them.'
Denise switched the butcher knife to her left hand.

 
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