Finding Hemingway

My phone rang.
"Callie, it's me," came the voice. A voice I'd heard somewhere before, like on an old-fashioned newsreel.
"Who is this? Do I know you?"
"The sun also rises in Spain," he continued. "I'm waiting for you. You must find me."
My stomach lurched.
"Hemingway? Mr. Ernest Hemingway?" I asked cautiously.
"Yes, that's correct."
"The Pulitzer Prize winner? The Nobel Prize author?"
"Correct again. Well done," he said.
"The deceased Ernest Hemingway?"
"Death is but a small detail, Callie....