#Rankin. Standing in another man's grave. Page 20.

Cigarette break,' Rebus said, shrugging his arms into (to put jacket on) his jacket.

Mind you don't take too long,' Cowan cautioned (a spoken warning given by a police officer to someone who has broken the law, advice).

     'Missing me already?' Rebus asked, blowing a kiss and making for the door.

The bag on her lap fell to the floor, and she crouched down, scrabbling for its contents (everything that is contained within something).

Scraps (a small piece of something) of paper, several pens, lighter, sunglasses and mobile phone. Rebus decided to let her to do it unaided, then get back to her feet, rearrange her closes and hair, and compose (to make yourself calm again) herself.  

My name's Nina Hazlitt,' she told him, shooting out (move quickly) a hand for him to shake.

Her reddish-blonde hair was cut in what Rebus would have called a bob (a women's hairstyle with the hair cut to neck length all around the head).

It was smudged (dirty or not clean) from age, its edges curled.

He returned the card and slid (slide, slid, slid, to move easily without interruption) his hands into his pockets.

     'I spoke with DI Magrath in 2004. He was very generous with his time.' The words were tumbling out (to fall or drop out) of her.

Six years…' She was staring past him, eyes unfocused, as if wondering (when someone wish to know something) where the time had gone.

     'I was told you're here concerning a missing person,' he prompted (to make someone decide to say or do something) her.