There was another car I saw in that same memory as Kathy’s Nova. At first I thought seeing Kathy was the cause of the apprehension I felt in that memory, but now I recall a gold-four sedan, sort of boxy and razor-edged late 60s or early 70s car, perhaps a Plymouth Valiant like this one. That was the source of my anxiety because inside sat what I believed at the time to be an undercover policeman, possibly even an FBI agent or a State of California narcotics agent.
I remember hurrying Kathy inside and fussing at her. “What are you doing here?” I said. She replied, “I came to bring your-.” I assume it was some kind of contraband since I interrupted her, hissing “He’s still here!” and pointing through the partially opened blinds at the car parked just across the street.
Seems she was the one who talked me down. I was freaked out because earlier I’d seen- or thought I saw- the guy in the car raise a camera with a telephoto lens at me, and I felt a cold chill of immense menace, like I’d just had a machine gun trained on me. Kathy reassured me that if they were going to make a move they would have already, though I can’t remember why she reasoned that or if she ever used reason. It seemed to help, or at least I was willing to believe it because someone besides me had said it with some confidence. I believe this was only about 3 weeks before the break-in that changed everything.
Now if only I could confirm this one too.