Pulling up to her apartment, Booth took a deep breath to calm himself. He knew that he wouldn't get anywhere with Bones if he went in there angry; even if that anger was directed toward himself and completely justifiable. Stepping out of the car, he walked up to the doorman.

"Hello, Mr. Booth," the doorman called. "Why, I haven't seen you here since…"

"A year, Charlie. It's been a year," Booth said. The doorman's words reinforced what Bones had been saying. "Could you buzz me up to Bones's apartment? I really need to see her."

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Charlie said. "I haven't seen the good doctor here for awhile, but I guess I can let you up there. She's probably just slipped up there without me seeing."

"Thanks Charlie," Booth said. He shook the doorman's hand and took off towards Bones's apartment.

When he reached her door, he pounded on the door, not bothering to knock softly because he knew she wouldn't be asleep.

"Bones," he called. "Bones open the door. We need to talk."

Suddenly, the door swung open. But instead of his partner, he saw a young blond girl, in her pajamas and sleepy looking.

"Who are you," she asked, "and what do you want?" For a moment, Booth was too surprised to speak.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"You're the one who came pounding on my apartment door at this ungodly hour."

"Your apartment?" Booth asked. "That can't be….This is my partner's home. Who are you?"

"My name is Katherine Newgood, of the California Newgoods," she said. "And I guess this isn't technically my apartment. I'm renting it from a woman; that must be your partner. I've lived here for nine months."

"You're renting this apartment…for how much longer?" Booth asked.

Bones is renting out her apartment? Where does she stay?

Nine months would make sense. She rented it out for her time away in Maluku. She must just be staying somewhere else while she honored the rest of the original contract.

But still, even if that were true, why hadn't she informed him of her change of address?

This was yet another reminder of how bad he had let things get.

"Well, the original contract was for one year," she said. "But last week, the owner contacted me and asked me if I would like to extend our agreement. I said yes, so I am free to stay here as long as I like."

"I'm sorry that I…bothered you," Booth said. "I just needed to talk to my partner and I didn't realize she didn't live here anymore. I won't bother you again."

"Whatever," the blond named Katherine Newgood, of the California Newgoods, said. Then, she shut the door in his face.

Booth walked back to his car, got in, and shut the door.

Where could she be? If her address had been changed…surely the Jeffersonian would have to have the records. He could ask Cam for them tomorrow. That plan should work, except for two little problems. One, he didn't want to wait until tomorrow, and two, he wasn't entirely sure Cam would enclose that information to him, at least, not after how he'd been acting these past months.

He turned on the car, defeated and planning to head home, when his finger caught a key. The key to the Jeffersonian. Suddenly, a plan had formed in his head, and he knew what he was going to do—smart or not; legal or not.

If he opened the door, he would meet the night guard. He really seemed to like Bones. If he explained, maybe the night guard would help him.

Well, either way, it's my only plan. It's worth a shot.