Note: This story is a sequel to The Tale of the Missing Lobsters, but can be read separately.

Diana Belden wandered into the dining room, holding her two-year-old daughter Sadie’s hand. She and her husband Brian had arrived at the Lynch Estate only half an hour ago. She had left Brian upstairs, unpacking their things. In a short time, everyone would be arriving for the annual Bob-Whites and families Christmas Eve gathering.

“I suppose it will do,” her mother muttered. “There isn’t time to change it now.”

“It looks lovely,” Diana commented. “And I don’t see anything that needs to be changed.”

Monica Lynch cast her an incredulous look. She gestured at the snowy-white tablecloth on one of two long tables, each covered in shining silverware and candlesticks, plates, glasses and floral arrangements. “Don’t you see those creases?”

“No. And neither will anyone else. Especially after you’ve added all of the food.” She picked up Sadie and held her out to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “You know that no one will mind, even if they do notice. We’re not here to criticise; we’re here to spend time together and celebrate.”

“It needs to be perfect,” her mother contradicted. “It’s my first time hosting since this little lady came along.”

To date, Sadie remained the sole Lynch grandchild and Brian the only in-law. Meanwhile, Helen and Maddie had all of their children married and producing grandchildren. Even Bobby Belden and his wife expected their first child in a couple of months. Larry and Terry remained stubbornly single, while their sisters Catherine and Elizabeth both declared themselves too busy for boyfriends. Monica despaired of ever catching up with her friends in spite of having more children than either of them.

“So, what’s the plan?” Diana asked, partly to distract attention from the less than perfect tablecloth.

Her mother led the way through a set of french doors. “We’ll start with pre-dinner drinks and canapés here on the terrace – the decorators have done a good job here, don’t you think?”

Diana nodded as she inspected the long, enclosed room that ran along one side of the grand house. Cheery fires burned in the two fireplaces, one at each end. Swathes of greenery, red velvet ribbons and gold baubles created a festive look. Halfway down the room, an enormous Christmas tree almost touched the ceiling.

“Then we’ll move into the dining room for the meal,” Monica continued. She frowned. “I almost wish it could be something other than lobster. I’d like to put my own stamp on it.”

“You’d have a mutiny on your hands,” Di answered, laughing. “And I’m not sure that I wouldn’t join in. It’s traditional, now.”

Her mother sighed and took Sadie onto her hip, giving the little girl a cuddle. “Well, never mind. All of the preparations are made and those pesky lobsters are safely under guard.”

Five years before, their Christmas Eve gathering had been disturbed by the disappearance of all the lobsters at just the moment they were ready to be cooked. Since that time, arrangements had been made to ensure the near-disaster never happened again.

“We have a few minutes before our guests arrive. What do you want to do now, my darling?” Monica asked her granddaughter.

“Look at buttons,” Sadie answered.

“I’ll stay here in case anyone’s early,” Di offered.

“Then, yes, we can go and look at the buttons,” Monica told the little girl. “For a few minutes, at least.”

Over the last few years, Diana’s mother had begun collecting antique buttons. They fascinated Sadie, who wanted to look at them every time they visited. Her little fingerprints always seemed to be on the glass of the display cases, no matter how many times they were cleaned, but Monica did not mind at all.

Diana sank into a chair and closed her eyes for a moment. She did not have time to relax, however, as footsteps approached almost at once.

“Here she is,” her father noted, leading Brian into the room. “But where’s your mother and our little princess?”

“One guess,” she replied.

He smiled. “Well, let me offer her mother a drink, while the coast is clear. You too, Brian. What will you have?”

Before both of them had drinks in hand, however, another door swung open to admit, of all things, Bobby’s dogs. The pair of doxipoos – dachshund-poodle crosses – capered into the room, followed a moment later by Larry and Terry Lynch.

“Greetings, Dad,” called Larry.

Ed Lynch looked down at the long-bodied brown dog at his feet and its short-bodied companion tearing past. “What’s this all about?”

“Larry! Where have you taken my dogs?” Bobby yelled, from somewhere nearby. He entered the room and stopped short. “Ah. Hello, everyone. Sorry, Mr. Lynch.” He called to the dogs. “Digby! Pogo!”

They ran to him and he clipped leads on them both.

“You’ve gotten rather boring in your old age,” Terry teased. “We were going to liven the party up with those two.”

“It’s going to be lively enough without them,” Bobby answered. “Mr. Lynch, is there somewhere I can put them, before all the kids get here? Or would you rather I ran them over to my parents’ place? We were supposed to go there first, but we ran into some trouble along the way and didn’t want to hold everyone up by being late.”

“Too late,” Brian observed, from his place near one of the doors.

His youngest brother turned a questioning look towards him. Brian only gestured to the door, through which poured a jumbled assortment of children aged from ten years downwards.

“Digby and Pogo!” one of them yelled.

The dogs’ excited barks and the children’s voices filled the room.

“What’s going on in here?” Trixie wondered, as she and Honey entered. “Bobby! What were you thinking?”

“It wasn’t me,” he argued.

But his sister wasn’t having any of that. “They’re your dogs.”

“How about if we calm things down a little,” Jim suggested. “Mart, you could help with that, instead of hindering.”

His brother-in-law looked up from his place on the floor among the kids. “I’m not hindering.”

“That’s what you say…” Dan commented, while keeping a firm hold on his and Barbara’s small son, despite his kicking legs as he tried to get down among the melee.

“Time to say goodbye to the dogs,” Ed announced, taking a firm grip of Bobby’s shoulder and propelling him out of the room. “You can see them again later.”

Amid the cries of disappointment from the kids, Harrison entered the room and deposited a tray of child-friendly snacks onto a low table. As he circulated with another tray for the adults, the noise level dropped to something much more comfortable.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Monica noted, as she arrived to greet her visitors. She allowed Sadie down to the floor, where she joined her cousins around the tray of food. “How good to see you, Honey. You’re looking well.”

Greetings were exchanged and conversation flowed.

“I really am very sorry,” Bobby was saying as he re-entered the room. “I didn’t mean to let them in here at all.”

“Yes, I’m quite well aware,” Ed responded, with a glance at his unrepentant sons.

More guests arrived, including Helen and Peter Belden, and Matthew and Madeleine Wheeler. Regan and Mr. Maypenny slipped into the room and chose the quietest corner. Soon, everyone expected had arrived, except the younger set of Lynch twins.

“Where are those girls?” Monica muttered to her eldest daughter. “Have you seen them?”

Di shook her head. “Are they in the house? I can run up and get them, if you want me to.”

She saw the relief in her mother’s face. “Please. Tell them it’s almost time to eat.”

Nodding, Di left the room and made her way up to her sisters’ bedrooms. She tapped on the first door she came to, which was Catherine’s.

“Who is it?” a terse voice replied.

“It’s Diana.”

The door swung open, revealing both young women. Elizabeth, who had opened it, gave her sister a hug. Catherine jumped up from the bed to follow suit.

“I take it we’re being summoned.” Catherine pulled a face. “I know this means a lot to you and your friends, but neither of us is looking forward to it very much. We’re both in the bad books.”

“And the boys are being really annoying,” Elizabeth added.

“I noticed about the boys.” Diana smiled wryly. “But why should you two be in the bad books? I thought you were both doing really well.”

“Academically? Yes.” Elizabeth’s nose wrinkled. “But we’re not meeting the social standard. My hair, apparently, is not fit for polite society.”

Diana smiled and tugged an asymmetrically-cut teal lock. “I think it’s cute. And it’s not going to be like this for very long, is it? Before you know it, you’ll be a lawyer and be having to look serious and grown up all the time.”

“My thoughts, exactly,” her sister answered. “This is my very last chance for fun hair.”

“I thought about hot pink,” Catherine, a medical student, admitted, “but I’d rather have the extra sleep.”

Diana nodded, knowing from Brian just what her little sister was going through. “So, what have you done that’s not approved?”

She grimaced. “It’s what I haven’t done, which is pretty much anything to do with the family.”

“Well, hiding up here isn’t going to help,” Di pointed out. “Let’s go and eat. And I’ll try to fix it so that the boys are as far away from you as I can get them.”

They went downstairs together, arriving in the dining room just as everyone else was choosing seats. Di exerted her influence to separate her siblings. She caught a faint, disappointed look on her mother’s face.

“Our family will be together tomorrow,” Di whispered to her. “Let’s give the girls some space tonight.”

The large group shifted around for some time more until everyone was satisfied with the arrangements. Diana and Brian ended up in the middle of the table, opposite Diana’s parents and with their daughter between them.

The door opened and Harrison carried in the first two platters of food. He nestled them among the floral arrangements and returned to the kitchen for more, as the gathered crowd made noises of appreciation.

“Button!” Sadie cried, scrambling to her feet on her chair and lunging for the nearest platter of lobsters.

Diana snatched the item from her just before it went into her mouth.

“What’s that?” Monica asked, in alarm. “What has she got?”

Diana handed the item over to her as the next platters arrived. Ed Lynch rose to speak with Harrison.

“One of my buttons!” her mother cried. “But how did it get into the food?”

“Here’s another one in the flowers,” someone added.

“And another on this candlestick.”

“There’s one over here, too, under the edge of my plate.”

“And under this fork.”

“And at the bottom of my glass. At least it’s still empty!”

Monica Lynch stared at them as they were handed to her and then looked across at her granddaughter. “Our dinner is ruined! We can’t let any of the children eat anything if there might be buttons in it.”

“We’re big enough, Mrs. Lynch,” Zach Belden assured her, with a pleading look at his father, Mart. “We won’t eat any buttons, we promise!”

“If the culprit will just own up and say how many buttons were hidden, we might be able to have our meal before it gets cold,” Brian suggested, then cast a sharp look at Bobby.

“It wasn’t me,” Bobby asserted. He looked to his wife Mandy. “I’ve got other things to think about these days.”

“It must have been someone who left the terrace for long enough to get the buttons from the family room and hide them,” Trixie pointed out. “Either that, or they did that before they went to the terrace.”

“Well, I haven’t been alone the entire time I’ve been here,” Bobby replied, as Brian continued to look at him with suspicion. “And I wasn’t the one who let my dogs amongst all the kids.”

“That’s true,” Diana pointed out. “Larry and Terry did do something that might have been a diversion.”

“Well, Cathy and Lizzie have spent the whole day lurking in their rooms,” Larry argued. “Maybe it was them.”

“Don’t call us that, Lawrence,” Catherine ground out, from her position at the other end of the room. “And, for your information, Elizabeth and I can prove that we haven’t been downstairs since the tables were set. All we’d have to do is review the security footage.”

“Di left the terrace, too,” Terry added, hastily. “It took her an awfully long time to get Cathy and Lizzie. Maybe it was her.”

“That’s enough, Terrence,” Elizabeth snapped. “This is obviously one of your pranks. Now, just tell us how many buttons you hid so we can eat.”

“I could go and count the empty spaces,” Di offered, when still no one owned up.

“It won’t help,” her mother answered, “because these aren’t my buttons.”

“Everybody close your eyes,” Trixie directed, over several astonished comments. “The culprit or culprits can hold up fingers to say how many buttons there are. I know who you are already.” She waited until everyone complied. “How many?” She made a disgruntled noise. “Make up your mind! Are you sure this time? Okay, everyone, you can open your eyes again. All six buttons are accounted for, so we can eat.”

Several members of the younger generations let out a cheer. Ed Lynch hushed them to say grace, then the feast began.

“What I don’t understand is how they got a button onto the plate of lobsters,” Monica fretted. “The others are understandable enough – though where they came from I can’t say – but we’ve had people watching those lobsters every minute since they arrived.”

“And Harrison assures me that they’ve not been interfered with in any way,” Ed added. “No one has been in the kitchen who should not have been there.”

“I think the buttons must be a Christmas gift for you,” their eldest daughter suggested to her mother. “I know you’ve always said that you enjoy finding them for yourself, but maybe someone thought they could get around that by hiding them.”

Monica set down her fork and picked up one of the buttons, a hand-painted floral. The six made up a set, each of them slightly different from the others, but of the same overall design.

“They’re very pretty,” Madeleine Wheeler observed, from two seats down. “Do you suppose they came from a dress?”

Monica nodded. “A very expensive dress. They might even have been used more than once. They are exquisite.”

“Trixie, you said you knew who did it,” Ed noted. “And I assume you also know how?”

She nodded. “But I’m not intending to give the answer away, if the perpetrator doesn’t want me to.”

“But you can explain how the button got on the lobster platter?” Monica asked.

Again, Trixie nodded. “I think Sadie might be able to tell you, if you asked.”

Diana turned to her daughter. “Sadie, where did the button come from?”

The little girl pointed to the plate.

“Where did it come from?” Trixie asked.

Sadie reached up both her arms, fingers outstretched. “Fall down.” She looked up to the ceiling, as if more buttons might drop from the air.

Trixie smiled. “That’s your answer.”

“The button fell from the ceiling?” Di asked, shaking her head. “It couldn’t have.”

“Try somewhere a little lower.” Trixie grinned and nodded to the flower arrangement which overhung the lobster platter. “That’s where it was. When the edge of the platter touched the vase, the button fell down.”

“Noticed by a certain sharp pair of eyes,” Brian added, nodding. “Okay, I can see how that all fits together. But as to when they were put there, I’m not sure we’re any the wiser, unless it happened during all the unnecessary commotion around Bobby’s dogs.”

“I didn’t mean–” Bobby began, but Brian cut him off.

“Yes, I see that, now.” He smiled at his youngest brother. “But what we don’t know yet is whether it was premeditated, or opportunistic.”

“Premeditated,” Dan decided.

“Now, wait a minute,” Larry interrupted. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” Dan grinned. “We arrived at the same time as you did, remember?”

Terry groaned. “See? I told you we wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Will you shut up?” his twin asked, in a strained whisper that still managed to carry across most of the room.

“I think it’s time to come clean, boys,” their father told them, only barely suppressing a laugh. “What’s the story?”

“We thought it was time for a new tradition,” Larry admitted, at last. “I mean, lobster dinners are pretty good, and we don’t want those to stop. But we thought, maybe, a little bit of a mystery each year might be a good idea.”

“And when we came across those buttons, they seemed like just the right thing to start it with,” Terry added. “Di was right about that: they’re a gift for Mom, but we remembered after we got them that she’d told us not to give her any.”

“I’ll make an exception, this time,” she answered, pushing back her chair so that she could give each of her sons a hug and kiss. “Thank you. They’re beautiful and I’ll cherish them.”

“But in future, we’d appreciate it if there were not buttons in our food,” Ed concluded. “I thought we’d already established that the lobsters are not to be messed with.”

“And maybe you could leave the mysteries to someone with a bit more of a flair for them,” Brian suggested. “It seems like you were suspected right from the start.”

“I’d like to say right now that I do not want to host next year,” Helen declared, as her eyes tracked from one of her grown-up children to the next. “A mystery war is the last thing that I need!”

“But Moms, that sounds like lots of fun,” Trixie answered, grinning.

“Christmas Eve at Ten Acres it is, then,” announced Matthew Wheeler. “I will look forward to it.”

The End