Dewey Riley sluggishly put his feet over the side of the bed. He glanced back at his slumbering wife. He leaned in to kiss her cheek.
"Dewey stop. I'm trying to sleep." She patted his hand away.
Every time he looked at her, he wondered how they could actually be married. It had been a long hard road for both of them. They first met in Woodsboro when Dewey was the deputy, and his wife was a news reporter. She also had her own television show. In a way he had had a fascination with her prior to the Woodsboro murders. Which happened nearly ten years ago.
Finally after thinking about his relationship with Gale Weathers for about ten minutes he stood. He stretched out his arms in the air, yawning loudly.
He walked over to his closet. Taking out the shirt and pants he wanted to where that day. Gale still slept peacefully as he walked out of the bedroom, and into the adjacent bathroom.
He turned on the hot water, and took a quick shower. Which woke him up quickly. He was ready for another day, working with the police still. But not doing field work. All he could do now is help in the homicide division. Helping the officers track the clues to the serial killers.
He ran the bright blue towel over his body, then got dressed quickly. When he arrived downstairs, Gale was awake now. She stood behind the stove. A two-year old tugging on her pant leg.
"Not now." She said to the child.
The little girl then went over to Dewey. He picked her up. She was their daughter Kayla Maye. Then Dewey kissed Gale on the cheek, and preceded to take his daughter to her playroom.
She immediately started playing with the toys. Hundreds of them, dolls, dress-up jewelry, games. Everything a little kid could want.
After Dewey made sure she was playing contently he went back to the kitchen. Gale handed him his breakfast. Of eggs, bacon and toast. He grabbed some orange juice and went into the living room.
He flipped on the television, and settled back into the couch to eat and watch the news. Like he did every morning.
"Bodies of eighteen year olds Heather McLiger and Kaitlyn James were found late last night at the McLiger home just outside of Woodsboro. Authorities have yet to issue the final statement. But it's being said that this is the haunting return to the massacre that rocked our safe community only ten years ago." A male news reporter said over the television.
Dewey dropped his orange juice to the floor. His mouth open in shock.
"Gale!" He called to his wife.
"What?!" She snapped back obviously annoyed that he was interrupting her own breakfast.
"I think you should come see this." Dewey said. The ex-deputy's police instincts kicked back in. He could think of only one thing.
Gale walked in. "This better be important…" She trailed off when she saw the newscaster holding up the ghost face mask she remembered all too well.
"Where's Sid?" Dewey asked.
"She's visiting her dad." Gale said the words that Dewey had feared. Neil Prescott still lived in Woodsboro. There was no proof that these new killings were related, but he had to warn Sid.
"What? You don't think it's happening again, do you?" Gale questioned. "It's probably just some bratty teenagers wanting to relive their favorite scary movie."
"Yeah, that sounds familiar." Dewey said, thinking back to the two psychotic killers, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.
"Dewey, this doesn't concern us." Gale said. She didn't want to be involved this time. She had sold three novels about her experiences. And though, she often visited television shows to tell her stories. She didn't truly want to do it again.
"If it concerns Sid, it concerns us. We've all been through this together, Gale."
Slowly Gale knew he was right. She sighed and agreed. Of course she still believed it was just a movie re-enactment. From what she had heard on the News channel, it reminded her a lot of Casey Becker. Billy's first victim.
After cleaning up the mess with the orange juice, Dewey set out for the Prescott house. Not knowing how to warn her. But he had time to think about it on the thirty-minute drive there.