ORIGINAL FICTION: "Climbers" (Chapter Twenty-Four)

call and make sure it really was gone first. Maybe they just got the numbers wrong. He's there, isn't he?"
Oh, boy: Decision Time. Steve had fled Lyndon. Ray figured that much out. His family had found him or caught up with him or- or the lawyer told them where he was. Ok, two were already playing this game. Always room for one more. Ray could play this out as well as anyone.
"He's just gone down to the gas station to see if today's metro papers were dropped off yet- You have no idea what it's like to be stuck out here. Not even a decent newspaper."
"I understand."
"You want me to have him call you when he gets back? Shouldn't be more than fifteen, twenty minutes or so."
"No. Well, yes. May as well. I'll go ahead and cancel that card."
"He probably doesn't even know it's gone. Nothing here to use it on."
"Rough life."
"Yes, it is. You want him to call you at home or the office?"
"Ah, make it the office. I'm at home now, but headed in to work. Just wanted to miss the morning rush hour. I should be there in about an hour."
"No problem. I make sure he calls."
"And you are?"
"Done talking."
Ray hung up the telephone and did a bit of quick figuring. Miss the morning rush hour? It was ten o'clock right now. This guy was calling from one time zone west. Mountain time. No accent, like Texas or anything? None. Denver? That was Ray's best guess before he realized that he didn't have to guess at all. He picked up the phone and dialed O.
"Yes, operator? I just received a long distance call at this number and I need to know where it originated. Yes, that's correct. I'll hold."
The thrill of the game did make Ray forget for a moment that he had more pressing matters: Like a wife in the hospital and no way to get to her. And he had promised to call Jake right back. Ok, this shouldn't take long, and might prove to be valuable information. Ray was right: It didn't take long at all. The operator came back on the line.
"Sir? Yes, that call originated in the Denver metropolitan area. Would you like the number?"
Ah, the thrill of victory. Yes, Ray would like that number. On a whim, he dialed it. May as well play the game. It only rang once. Mark Stewart did not answer.
"Stapleton United VIP lounge."
Say what? Stapleton? Denver's airport? United Airlines? The plot thickens. Ray had to play his hand, though.
"Yes, this is Steve Vaan, returning Mark Stewart's call."
"I'm sorry sir, Mister Stewart just answered his flight's boarding call."
"Bound for?"
"St. Louis, sir. It should arrive there at- let me see here- Twelve forty-five their time. I can have a message left for him there if you like."
"Yes, please let him know that I'll meet him at the airport there in St. Louis. In the VIP lounge- To just stay put and I'll be there."
"Yes, sir. And your name again?"
"Steve Vaan. V-A-A-N."
"Thank you, sir, I'll make sure he gets the message."
"I'm sure you will."
Ray hung up the phone completely unaware of the irony of life. He had just impersonated a man who had been impersonating him. Neither knew of the other's ruse. Would they ever? Ray Meadows was not overly concerned with finding Steve Vaan at the moment. He had far more pressing problems. His wife was in a hospital and he had no way to get there. Now some lawyer was headed this way- and doubtless up to no good. He didn't want to be there when Stewart showed up. He was going to have to drag his sorry carcass out of there pretty quick. Right after a couple of phone calls- to a couple of states. Kentucky first. Ray dialed yet again.
"Loovul Gen'ral."
"Yes, my name is Raymond Meadows. My wife was admitted last night? Barbara Meadows?"
There was a silence on the other end as the