Richard stopped to stare at the date he had neatly written at the bottom of the page. He chewed his pencil while thinking about what to write. The house was silent except for the gameshow his babysitter was watching downstairs. His mother had recently been appointed to be the new chief Medical Examiner of Massachusetts and her working hours boarded on being crazy sometimes.

But he was used to being alone a lot. Well, at least to being without his parents. There had always been an au pair or babysitter taking care of him, when his mother had to leave at some wee early morning hours or work late like tonight.

Somehow, he had hoped that things would change after their move. He knew that it was only the second week in Boston and that changes needed time. His mother had apologized to him this morning, stating that she had to first settle into the new work with all the new colleagues and so before she could start trying to work decent hours. But Richard wasn't stupid and saw right through the lie.

Not that she was a bad mother, but he still felt lonely and lost sometimes. At least he had had his friends in the town he had grown up. And his mother must have sensed his emotions because she had given him a nice book with lots of empty pages to write his thoughts into until he had started school or made friends he could tell his stories to.

And whenever she had time off from work while he was awake, she tried to spend it with him. Usually, they were talking and playing games like chess. He liked playing chess and was really good at it but sometimes he wanted to do something else. Stuff that other kids did, like riding their bikes, climbing trees and playing computer games.

Sometimes he wished for his father to be still part of their lives because then he would have someone who could practice ball games with him. He already sucked at them at his old school, making him the target of all kind of jokes and teasings.

Richard sighed and refocused on the blank page in front of him. There was so much to say, he thought, but he couldn't find the words to put his thoughts down onto the paper. Frustrated, he threw the pen onto the book and got up from his bed to look for his favorite book in the shelf. Maybe reading would make him sleepy enough to drift off. It was already late anyways.

R&I

Richard sat on the deck and stared at the pool. It was September already. School would start soon, and he wondered what kind of people he would meet there and how long it would take for the stupid boys to start picking at him.

His mother had come home late but awoken early. She had made him his favorite breakfast and they had driven to do some shopping. A new dress for her and some jeans and hoodies for the fall for him. He had also gotten a new jacket.

To him, this wasn't important enough to write it down into the book which was laying in his lap. Marina, his babysitter was in the kitchen cooking dinner for him, and the smell of freshly baked bread filled the air. Marina was about 52 years old. Her husband had died in a car accident a few years ago and she spent her time babysitting kids in the neighborhood. Everybody called her grandma, although Richard found that she was too young to be a grandma.

He liked her a lot, not only because of the good food she cooked but also because she was funny and interested in his life while giving him enough privacy at the same time. She was one of the nicest babysitters he had ever had. A smile briefly crossed his face as he recalled Marina smuggling in some homemade cookies for him. His mother hated when he ate too many sweets, so he was usually kept short on this side of the food chain. But Marina obviously knew better and kept surprising him with her delicious bakeries.

When it was time for dinner, he closed the book and decided to leave it for the day.

R&I

Richard was laying on the couch when the doorbell rang. His mother had come home early today. He saw her in the kitchen and rolled his eyes. There would be fish and vegetables with rice for dinner. Why couldn't they just have burgers and fries or pizza like most people.

"Richard, can you please open the door and see who's there?" his mother called to him while stirring the vegetables. He rolled his eyes again and got off the couch to walk to the entrance hall. The doorbell rang again, and he already disliked this person who was so impatient.

"Yes?" he asked after opening the door to a tall woman with curly, long, brown hairs. The womans eyes were also brown. She looked at him, visibly surprised. "I'm uhm.. Is Dr. Isles here?" she glanced at him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Muuuuum? It's for you!" He yelled towards what Jane assumed was the kitchen.

"Who is it?" his mother shouted back, and Richard gave their visitor a questioning look. The woman gave a small chuckle. "It's detective Rizzoli!" she shouted back with an impressive deep, dark voice. She winked at Richard, and they waited.

Maura walked around the corner, wiping her hands into a dishtowel. Richard noticed how the detective turned slightly nervous. A notion which his mother probably didn't even notice, being a bit insecure herself. Or was the detective afraid of his mother? Many people at her old work place sure had been.

"Hello detective Rizzoli." The blonde greeted their visitor in surprise.

"Hi, Is this a bad time? You said that I could come by later to discuss the autopsy report." Her brown eyes glanced at Richard who was so intrigued by this woman. It wasn't only her appearance but also her swagger that kind of impressed him.

"No, its fine. Dinner is almost ready. Do you want to join us?" Maura asked in her polite voice. Detective Rizzoli shifted slightly from one foot to another. "I don't want to bother you. If you want, I'll come back later." She stated.

Maura shook her head and gave a small smile that was a bit friendlier than the polite smile she usually wore for people from work. Richard glanced back and forth between them. "Yes well, in this case thank you for your invitation." The detective said and stepped into the house after Maura had invited her in and stating that she didn't bother them.

Richard watched the detective steal curious glances around their home as she followed Maura towards the dining room. "So, this is Richard. Richard, this is one of the detectives I work with. She's detective Rizzoli." Maura finally introduced the boy to her coworker, placing a hand on his blonde head. "Richard, could you go and get some plate and cutlery for the detective please?" she said as she turned to him.

He nodded and walked off with an unhappy face. He wasn't their slave after all. Why didn't his mother do it if she was her guest? He politely placed the asked items onto the table on the opposite side of where his place was and sat down. There was a baseball game on TV that he wanted to watch, but his mother forbad him to eat while watching it. If he ate quick enough, he could be finished with dinner by the time the second half of the game started he thought. It looked as if the two women had stuff to do anyways. He even saw a slight chance that his mother would forget about his bedtime because of being busy with the report the detective had brought over. A small grin formed on his lips as he silently realized that the chance of it happening was actually pretty big as his mother didn't like to leave work unfinished. And there seemed to be a lot to read judging by the size of the file.

The grin widened when he saw the detectives face falter briefly after seeing the healthy dinner. He could literally read on her face that she would have preferred burger or pizza like him. He hid his face behind the glass of juice and noticed that the brunette threw him a quick glance before smirking slightly.

He mused that it must be fun working with her. Or maybe not so for his mother who was rather stiff and socially awkward.

There was a polite conversation about weather and other general topics while they ate. It was clear that his mother and the detective didn't have much in common and that so far, the evening had been boarding on becoming really awkward.

Richard was glad, when he had managed to swallow his last bite of fish. "Can I go and watch the game now mum?" he asked and felt relieve when his mother nodded. Hopping off the chair he saw how the detective pulled some files out of a rucksack and his mother walked to the study to fetch her notebook.

"It's a really old case. I came across when looking for files related to another case." The brunette explained and shoved the files over to Maura who took a sip of wine before opening the first file. Richards eyes were glued to the screen, but his ears were directed towards the table were both women were sitting.

Of course, he knew what his mother was doing for a living, he wasn't stupid, but whenever he asked any questions about her job, she would only give superficial answers.

"This case is almost 10 years old." His mother mumbles as she read the first pages.

"But still solvable. I mean it's obvious who did it, we just need to find evidence to nail him." The detective cautiously eyed sideways to the boy. He could feel it and pretended to be emerged into the game.

"Maybe this was a bad idea." The brunette finally said rand made a motion to grab the files, but his mother held her back. "No, you are right. We should at least have a look at it." She gave the detective another of her honest smiles before taking another sip.

The detective sat in silence as his mother read through the first pages of the file. She seemed to be more nervous now, chewing her lips. "Sox or bears?" she asked, and his mother glanced up, looking confused.

"What's his favorite team. Both are playing tonight." The brunette said. His mother shrugged and both glanced over to him. "Mind if I join him while you read through the reports and look at the pictures?" the detective asked in her deep voice and his mother smiled again. "No, go ahead. We are going to discuss the case afterwards when it's his bedtime."

The detective nodded and was seemingly relieved to get something to occupy her mind with while his mother was studying the paperwork on the case. She walked into the living room, and he scooted a bit towards the end of the couch to make space for her to sit.

Both watched the game in silence for a while until Richard spoke up: "I like the sox." He heard himself say, feeling strange with this woman next to him. She smiled at him. "Me too." She replied.

"Do you play baseball?" she asked easily, and he shrugged. "I'm not good at it." He replied truthfully, seeing no sense in lying. "You?" he asked with peaked interest and heard her chuckle softly.

"Not anymore. Sometimes I still play basketball with my brother Frankie though. But most of the time we play one on one basketball."

He noticed how the detective kept stealing glances at his mum and wondered what it was about. Their conversation about sports kept going though, and he enjoyed talking to the brunette who knew a lot about the Sox. The detective was also very verbal about what she thought of some moves of their favorite team. It amused him to see her jump and felt like she wanted to yell at the TV, which she probably did when watching at home but held back because of his mu.

When the game was over, he was sent to bed. He glanced at his watch cheering inwardly for having been able to stay up almost an hour longer than usual. He decided to only pretend to go to his room. There was a good spot on the stairs where you could listen to the conversation in the living room to which his mum and the detective had moved. And he was interested in what they were about to say.

"This is really bad, detective." His mother said in a pensive tone. Richard could feel that she was now hooked up on this case too.

The detective said something which he couldn't understand but he could clearly hear his mothers reply. "There is no body. Such cases are hard to win in a court of law. First you need to proof that she was really murdered. All you have is circumstantial evidence. I admit that the fathers actions are highly questionable as are his contradictive statements. But that's not enough. Maybe the girl really just ran away. She was clearly miserable living with these circumstances."

"She had 2500 Dollars in her savings account. When you're a 17-years-old teenager you would need the money. How come she never withdrew any of it?" the detective asked.

"Why didn't police investigate when she went missing. 10 years is a long time." His mother also pointed out that most of the evidence must have been gone by now.

The conversation between them went on, but he wasn't able to hear more as they continued in a low voice. He gave up after a while, musing that they must have realized that he could still be awake and hear them.

Dear diary,

I am not sure if a diary is not a girls thing. But mum always tells me that it's important to be open minded person. So, I'm going to give it a shot, I think.

We had a very interesting visitor tonight. She works with my mum and is called detective Rizzoli. She is very tall for a woman and has piercing brown eyes. Her curly hair is brown as well. She came by to discuss an old case with mum, which I presume is not on her regular working agenda. I couldn't catch much of what they were talking about the case, but I might try and find out when mum is not here. She doesn't know but I know all the passwords for her computer.

Anyways, it was fun to watch them. Detective Rizzoli makes lots of jokes and chuckles a lot. But mum is a very serious person and didn't catch all of the jokes although they were really funny.

I hope that the detective is going to visit us again soon. Maybe we'll have something nice to eat then next time. And I can watch another game with her because she's pretty cool for an adult.

Richard stared at the few lines that filled a page and gave them a doubtful look. He still couldn't grab the concept of writing stuff down and he still thought that this was probably more of a girls thing when he closed the book and stored it in its hiding place because he figured that if you had a diary you had to hide it. Not that he was worried that his mother would disregard his privacy and search for it, he just liked to do things like they were supposed to be done.