Author's Notes: Thanks so much to everyone who's following my little adventure. I appreciate all the wonderful comments you all have bestowed upon me. To Andy -I wish you would reconsider, but I understand. I'm sure your writing is perfectly professional, mine's not quite there yet, either! But, when you're ready - look me up and we can co-author something after this venture is over.

As for the style of the story, I had only planned to write from Nancy's perspective. I feel more comfortable doing a females first person perspective, as I am a female. I don't understand men, much less know what, or how,they think - so I find it a little harder to write their thoughts. :) But once I've finished this, I might go back and do the same series from Frank's perspective, if I can manage it. But, that's just a thought folks, don't get your hopes up yet! We've got this story to get through first, before I even think of attempting anything else.

Now... on with A Crime for Christmas, Part Two. Enjoy!

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The next morning I joined Frank in the lobby of the hotel, while Bess joined John for a Broadway show. Joe and Frank were hoping to catch a glimpse of the thieves. Joe was disguised as a tourist taking pictures of the hotel, while Frank pretending to be nonchalantly reading the newspaper.

Joe unbelievably ended up meeting an attractive young red-head named Fiona Fox, who caught him taking pictures of her! Frank and I watched on in amusement, and Frank laughingly called his brother the Don Juan of Bayport. Somehow Joe managed to get a number instead of a black eye. Later, the three of us developed the rolls of film that Joe took, and we poured over them for the rest of the afternoon with no success.

The day flew past in a blur and suddenly it was bed time once again. I had finally fallen into a peaceful sleep when a tapping noise lulled me out of my sleep. I threw off the covers and donned my robe, to find John at our room window once again. 'Does he not know how to use a door?' I thought to myself as I opened the window and allowed him entry.

John insisted that there were people after him and we had to help him escape the hotel immediately. Immediately on guard, I called a sleeping Frank and told him the story. He and Joe came to our room and helped us disguise John. We made it safely out of the hotel without attracting any attention, but before we could hail a cab we were stopped by the police. The officer announced that we were all under arrest for kidnapping Crown Prince Jean-Claude of Sarconne!

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An overly excited Bess, along with Joe, Frank, and I joined the Prince and his bodyguard/cousin Count Reynaud the next morning for brunch before heading to the Metropolitan Museumfor a private viewing of the crown jewels.

Jean-Claude managed to get away from the overprotective Count Reynaud and we found ourselves heading to Central Park. Our quaint outing was disrupted when Jean-Claude stopped to buy us hot roasted chestnuts and was attacked and kidnapped by the vendor. The four of us commandeered the limousine that had taken us to the park and Joe jumped behind the wheel in hot pursuit of the men that held Jean-Claude captive.

After rescuing the Crown Prince, he and the count took the four of us out to celebrate. When we arrived back to the hotel, Reynaud made it clear that Jean-Claude was staying in for the rest of the afternoon. We put Bess on guard duty in the lobby, and stationed Joe in the hallway that led to the Crown Prince's room.

Trusting Bess and Joe to keep an eye on Jean-Claude, Frank and I headed up to my room to go over our notes.

"What a day,"I sighed, as I tossed my purse onto the bed.

"You can say that again," Frank agreed, following me into the room, and shutting the door behind him.

I rubbed the back of my neck – it was killing me. The stress we had been under since arriving in New York had found a permanent resting place in between my shoulders.

"You alright?" Frank asked, watching me intently.

I grimaced as I attempted to work out the tension with one hand. "Yeah, just a little tense," I answered. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I hung my head down and closed my eyes as I kneaded my sore neck and shoulders.

"You don't look alright," Frank commented, crossing over to stand in front of me.

"Why don't you let me help?" To accentuate his comment he cracked his knuckles elaborately and grinned, "I've got magical fingers."

'I'm sure you do,' I thought to myself wryly as I looked up at his grinning face.

Aloud I teased, "Then put those fingers to work, Hardy."

Frank sat behind me on the bed and I practically shivered with goose bumps at his near presence. He softly moved my hair out of the way and put his strong hands on both sides of my shoulders. He gently began kneading the sore area and his thumbs pressed firmly on the knots.

I took in a quick breath at the pressure and Frank continued his ministrations. "Too hard?" he asked quietly.

"It's a good hurt," I promised him. As he pressed and prodded I could feel the tension slowly residing. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the personal attention he was giving me… and my sore neck. "Feels good," I murmured softly, my eyes still closed.

"Good," he whispered, as he continued the relaxing massage.

Finally, all the tension was gone and I knew the knots were history, at least for the time being. I didn't want him to stop, but we had other more important things to concentrate on.

I reached across my chest and placed my small hand over his that was still massaging my shoulder blades. "Much better," I told him.

Frank let his hands trail from my shoulder blades down the length of my arms, rubbing them lightly. "Told you I had magical fingers," he teased lightly.

I craned my neck over my left shoulder to face him. "That you do," I agreed. I looked at those dark chocolate eyes I just wanted to get lost in and said, "I'll have to repay the favor sometime."

"I'll hold you to that," Frank said huskily.

Gulping at the sexy tone in his voice, I turned my entire body this time to face him. "Frank," I began, unsure of exactly what I was going to say.

Just then the phone rang and interrupted whatever it was that I might have said.

Silently cursing to myself, I got up and crossed the room to answer the ringing phone.

"Hello?" I answered, with more than a hint of impatience in my voice.

It was Jean-Claude looking for Bess. When I told him that she was down in the lobby on surveillance he said that he would pick her up there. I slammed the phone down in frustration and turned to Frank. I quickly filled him on the short conversation I had with Jean-Claude and we immediately headed to the lobby to intercept him.

We ran into Joe chatting with his new friend Fiona, and her father Dr. Fox, and he pointed to Bess and Jean-Claude snuggling in the corner. Suddenly, Count Reynaud appeared and thundered "There you are!" when he found the three of us talking to Jean-Claude and Bess.

After a tense conversation with the Count in which he accused Bess of being a 'lower class gold-digger', and called me Frank's girlfriend, Jean-Claude demanded a written apology to both his parents and Bess. Reynaud had the good graces to look very contrite and sincerely apologized. Jean-Claude informed his cousin that if he really wanted to make it up to him, he would arrange for a night on the town without the Count or bodyguards in tow.

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The five of us ended up at yet another loud and crazy nightclub. This time the place had live music with an acrobatic guitarist and steel cages with dancers. Another odd feature, were tunnels along the walls that had numbers marking their entrance.

"I wonder where those tunnels go?" I mused. Frank and I were sitting at a table sipping our drinks as Jean-Claude danced with Bess and Joe danced with a girl he had just met.

"A couple to storage rooms," Frank answered me. "The others lead to the sidewalk. The doors used to be hidden."

I gave Frank a skeptical look. "How do you know all this?'

Frank told me he had read about the club in a guidebook. He informed me that during Prohibition it was used as a speakeasy, and that the trap door on the first floor let people down into the illegal area. The tunnels leading to the storage rooms hid the booze, while the others allowed patrons to escape when the police was raided.

"I'm impressed," I said simply.

"You should be," Frank answered with a smile. The subdued lighting softened the features of his face in an even more handsome way. "Now that you're my girlfriend, I have to do things to impress you."

I looked at him with a confused expression on my face. It sounded as if he was joking but why on earth would he say something like that, unless…

Frank's voice interrupted my scattered thoughts. "Reynaud's comment in the lobby?" he reminded me. "He referred to you as my girlfriend."

"Oh. Right," I replied softly. "Imagine that…you and me." I meant to laugh the comment off, but suddenly my throat felt as if was filled with cotton, and the comment came out sounding wistful instead.

I waited nervously for Frank's response, but when he replied softly, "Yeah, imagine," I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

His warm brown eyes searched mine as if he was trying to find the perfect words. Frank's hand reached over and covered mine. I looked down at our joined hands and blushed slightly.

"Nancy?"

"Yes, Frank?" I replied hesitantly, unsure of if I really wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Four guys in ski masks just came in the door," he said pushing away from the table.

In confusion I looked to where Frank's attention was directed. I saw Bess and Jean-Claude duck out through one of the tunnels and suddenly we were in hot pursuit of the couple and more would be kidnappers.