False Finder

By Mia Hoddell

As a False Finder, Cora has been able to detect lies since she was born. But when blackmail, betrayal, and deceit are all the population has to protect themselves, it makes her dangerous. It also makes her a target.

London’s biggest criminal leader, Rogan Carvelli, has been hunting her for years. And she’d been successful in outmanoeuvring him until one careless mistake led her friends to betray her.

Sold to Carvelli, Cora is only left with the help of a secret organisation to escape. They’ve saved her before, and she thought she could trust them. However, the closer she gets to them, the clearer it becomes their motives are far from innocent.

Caught in a brutal fight between two criminal organisations, Cora must decide who the real enemy is and where her loyalties lie if she’s to survive.

False Finder is an urban fantasy/dystopian thriller recommended for ages 16+. It is written in British English with British grammar.
*Re-edited and revised edition (first published in 2014).*

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mia Hoddell
• Release date: Feb 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370274529

Mia Hoddell

International bestselling author Mia Hoddell lives in the UK with her family and two cats. She spends most of her time writing or reading, loves anything romantic, and has an overactive imagination that keeps her up until the early hours of the morning.Mia has written over ten titles including her Seasons of Change series, the Chequered Flag series, the Elemental Killers series, and her standalone novels False Finder, Not Enough, and Bet On Me.Her favourite genres are contemporary romance or romantic suspense, and with an ever growing list of ideas she is trying to keep up with the speed at which her imagination generates them. She also designs book covers and banners on her website M Designs.

Book preview

ABOUT THE BOOK

As a False Finder, Cora has been able to detect lies since she was born. But when blackmail, betrayal, and deceit are all the population has to protect themselves, it makes her dangerous. It also makes her a target.

London’s biggest criminal leader, Rogan Carvelli, has been hunting her for years. And she’d been successful in outmanoeuvring him until one careless mistake led her friends to betray her.

Sold to Carvelli, Cora is only left with the help of a secret organisation to escape. They’ve saved her before, and she thought she could trust them. However, the closer she gets to them, the clearer it becomes their motives are far from innocent.

Caught in a brutal fight between two criminal organisations, Cora must decide who the real enemy is and where her loyalties lie if she’s to survive.

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DEDICATION

For my family.

This is one book that definitely wouldn’t have been possible without you all.

PROLOGUE

10

The number of minutes she was given as a warning.

9

The number of possible exit routes she could take.

8

The number of people who were hunting her.

7

The number of friends she thought she had.

6

The number of hours it took for people to turn on her after finding out the truth.

5

The number of minutes it took for people to reveal their true colours.

4

The number of times she tried to change their minds before giving up.

3

The number of years she thought they were her friends.

2

The number of people it took to spill her secret and sell her out.

1

The number of thoughts inside her mind.

0

The number of minutes she had left.

CHAPTER ONE

Don’t look back.

Just keep moving.

If all else fails, run.

The cool air flowed in through her nose and out through her mouth in deep, slow breaths to release her anger and frustration as she exited the building. The three lines had quickly become her mantra as she repeated them over and over inside her mind, surprised at how often she found herself having to use them.

Usually the words had a calming effect so she could control herself; now they merely did the opposite, barely allowing her to restrain herself as they fuelled her rage.

Her hands twitched by her hips, and she scarcely managed to refrain from turning around to finish what they had started.

She wanted to go back.

She wanted to make sure that every one of them would keep their mouths shut tighter than Pandora’s Box.

She wanted to scream and use violence if necessary, but she wouldn’t. Doing so would have been an automatic death sentence in the world she lived in.

It hurt, yet she refused to give them the satisfaction of showing her anger … or her fear.

They would not get the pleasure of watching her fall.

Walk away.

There’s nothing you can do, your secret is out now.

It’s daylight; you’re safe while the sun is up and you’re around people.

They think you’re Sarah Davis, as long as they don’t figure out Sarah is really Cora Shields it should buy you some time.

The logical side of Cora’s brain chanted ritually, keeping in time with her footsteps as they carried her further away. It was right; at that moment in time there was nothing she could do. Her secret was out, but she hoped her fake identity would be enough of a cover while she figured out her next move.

As every step increased the distance between her and the group of people behind, she felt the tension seeping out of her body. Her muscles loosened marginally, so rolling her shoulders, she tried to shake off the last of her rage. When Cora felt her breathing levelling out and her heart rate returning to a steady rhythm, she forced her emotions into submission. There was only one refusing to comply:

Fear.

* * *

"Drink! Drink! Drink!" They all shouted at Cora, slamming their cups on the table in a steady rhythm. She was once again the only person having to drink in the latest round of ‘I never’. No one would have believed it before, yet Cora was turning into the most adventurous of the group. They couldn’t pour the alcohol in to refill her cup fast enough.

"Nooo, she slurred, shaking her head back and forth. No more."

"Yes, more. Gemma offered Cora her drink. You lost, now face the consequences."

Everyone cheered as Cora took the cup and brought it to her lips to down another gulp. Placing the empty beaker on the table, Cora held up her hands at the applause from her friends.

"Oh, I have one! Jaz cried, leaping off her seat. Never have I ever slept with a friend’s crush."

Even to Cora’s drunk ears the words sounded funny. From where she was slumped on the table, she raised her head to gaze at Jaz through a tangle of hair. That’s a lie.

All of the laughing ceased as heads turned to Cora with curiosity.

"Tell them, Jaz. Tell them it’s a lie."

All focus shifted to a flushed Jaz, awaiting her response.

"Jaz?" Sam questioned.

She held her hands up in the air. Okay, I slept with Gemma’s crush, Steven.

Gemma gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. While it wasn’t the first lie Cora had called out in the game, it still posed a shock to whoever received the truth.

"How could you, Jaz?" Gemma squealed, the alcohol fuelling the dramatics.

"Oh, get over it. It was years ago and he had no intention of ever asking you out. He was terrible anyway, you dodged a bullet."

Gemma opened her mouth to make another comment. She looked like her heart was breaking, yet Sam clapped his hands to command the room’s attention.

"Anyway, back to the game. He grinned. Never have I ever kissed a guy."

Of course, all of the girls took a gulp of their beer—as was Sam’s intention, no doubt. What he didn’t take into consideration was Cora’s next words.

"You’re all a bunch of liars! Why can’t you tell the truth? Jaz, you slept with someone’s crush, Gemma stole someone’s rent money, and Sam, you’ve kissed a guy."

"I have not!" Sam roared, his face beetroot red.

"You have."

"Not."

Cora giggled at Sam’s insistence. Anyone could see he was lying from his protests. Who was it? I bet it was Michael, right? Are you gay? There’s nothing wrong if you are.

"No, I’m not gay."

Cora allowed a second to evaluate the words. At least you told the truth there.

Sam leaned forward, encroaching on her personal space. How are you doing this?

"Doing what?" Cora rolled her empty cup around in a circle, watching the plastic beaker with intent.

"Calling us on all of these lies. How do you know these truths?"

She shrugged, spinning the cup again. I dunno.

Picking up the cup, Sam set it upright and hooked her chin. Tilting Cora’s face up, he forced her to meet his gaze. Cora, this is important. How do you know?

"I’m a False Finder. I read lies." Cora finally admitted, the alcohol on her brain having weakened the filter that usually helped her escape situations threatening her secret.

"What does that mean?" Jaz jumped in.

Falling back against the sofa, Cora dislodged Sam’s hand. She felt tired all of a sudden. I was born with the skill. Some genetic mishap in my DNA means I can detect when you lie. Your voice changes and you glow red. It reminds me of Rudolph’s nose actually.

Cora curled up in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Clutching her stomach, she rolled over and fell off the sofa to hit the floor with a thud.

She rubbed her head, but couldn’t stop laughing.

Everyone left her there.

Gazing at each other with caution, they all silently dared one another to deny what Cora had said.

No one did.

Cora may have been drunk, yet no one could come up with another explanation.

Of course she could have denied it and blamed the drink when she woke up the next morning, but her pounding headache once again weakened her usually strong defences.

"Cora … about last night," Sam started.

"What about it?" she grumbled, hunched over her coffee, breathing in the smell of the cheap instant stuff.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Cora shook her head, then stopped the second it intensified the pounding in her skull.

"You said some things—" Sam said.

"Yes, can you really detect lies all the time?" Jaz interrupted, sounding like she shouted inside Cora’s sensitive head.

"Are you really a False Finder?" Gemma chipped in.

Soon Cora had six people talking over each other with questions to create a cacophony of noise Cora wanted to end.

"Yes. I’m a False Finder or a human lie detector. Whatever you want to call me doesn’t matter. I just know when you’re lying." The second Cora said it she wanted to recall the words. Instead, she stood and rushed for the front door.

She needed to escape.

For the first time in forever, she’d revealed her true identity and she knew in her heart it was a mistake.

* * *

I always knew she was strange. No one is that defensive and not concealing a secret, Sam said, leaning back against the sofa in his flat as if his point was clear.

I can’t believe she never said anything. I mean, think of all the things she could have heard to use against us, Gemma stated, worry creasing her forehead as if she was trying to recall anything Cora could have overheard which had the potential to become incriminating.

A thick tension lingered in the room. Beside the person speaking, everyone else remained deathly silent. Awkward pauses arose frequently and aside from Sam’s nonchalant, relaxed posture as he sat back, a mug of coffee in his hand, everyone else seemed anxious.

Six out of the seven who were huddled around his coffee table perched on the edges of their seats so their bodies were only just supported by their bouncing feet. If he’d kicked any of their legs out from underneath them they would have fallen off the chairs, but no one could blame them. In a recovering country fighting for survival, the truth was rarely a means to get anything done, and now their options had been taken from them.

She has to be dealt with. She’s dangerous, Jaz muttered, deep in thought as she chewed her lip. The purple extension in her hair glowed with the morning sunlight filtering through the window as she twisted a ring around her finger.

If Sarah was dangerous, she would have done something already. She’s not like that, Misty defended. She was the only person in the room who wasn’t eager to gain revenge. Rather, she seemed anxious about what the group intended to do.

She knows too much. Think of the information she could have gathered over the years and what could happen if she ever needed to use it, Jaz stated as she stared down at the people beneath their apartment. At one point the streets would have been filled with rush hour traffic, yet not anymore. Very few cars graced the street now, replaced by people walking at a brisk pace and looking over their shoulders in paranoid gestures.

A person could never be overly careful in the new era. You could never be sure who was tailing you.

You’re all being ridiculous. She doesn’t hear the truth and she can’t read your minds, so there is no way she knows what you’re hiding if you don’t tell her. You’ve known Sarah long enough to know, except for her temper, she has never done anything to harm you all. Are you really going to sell her out? Misty stared at them, her eyes wide in astonishment at their lack of loyalty.

She’s a liability. We all have secrets we can’t afford to come out. Even you can’t deny that, Misty. I will not have my life ruined because of her. Heads nodded at Sam’s opinion. So are we all in agreement? It’s better to turn her in now than risk our futures.

Once again heads nodded at him frantically, all except one anyway. The chair on which Misty had sat was now empty. The only tell-tale sign of where she had gone was the angry slam of the door as it shut behind her.

* * *

Cora’s secret—a secret she had hidden most of her life—had finally come to light among her peers. With it they had the power to ruin her life for good, and the nagging feeling that she couldn’t trust everyone only added to the pit of despair churning in her stomach.

One simple slip up and everything she’d worked for had come to an end, wasting years of carefully poised perfection. Cora had learned to blend in, make sure she didn’t act in a manner that drew attention to herself, and become someone else … but that was all over.

It was a stupid mistake as well.

Who would have thought playing ‘I never’ was a good idea when you had so much to hide? But that was Cora’s problem: for once she hadn’t thought at all. At the time it had seemed like fun. Who will believe anything a drunk says? Cora had thought as she took a swig of their homemade beer after losing another round in the game.

Everyone, that was who.

The fact she had known them all for a while led her to believe she could trust them. She’d been reckless and stupid, and now she was paying the price for it.

Cora had broken her first rule and it was coming back to bite her in the ass.

Rule number one: NEVER, under any circumstances, reveal who and what you are, she repeated in her mind, kicking herself over her mistake. There were people out to get her. They wanted to use her and she had remained undetectable for so long because of her ability to keep a level head, keep a secret, and lie convincingly. But she knew that was over.

Walking from her flat, after going home to shower and change, she decided to take the long route to her first university lecture. She didn’t care about being late, since it was the last place she wanted to be. However, she hoped it would reveal information on what she was up against.

When her eyes fell upon the street in front of her, she almost thought about going into hiding again and forgetting the information she needed.

The recession had hit the United Kingdom hard and Cora knew it had been coming—even though she had been only a child. She’d listened to the politicians lie on the TV, stating the country was emerging and becoming prosperous again since she was born. All of it proved to be false and simply a ploy to avoid mass panic while keeping them in the public’s good graces.

Nevertheless, there was only so long you could conceal a dire economic situation. It didn’t take long for the adults to realise the country was drowning, and even children started to realise things weren’t right. When the price of a Freddo chocolate bar increased from ten pence to three pounds, children were obviously going to question what was happening—at least Cora did.

The country was declared bankrupt. There was no one who could bail it out of the enormous debts, and with that declaration, the panic arose. A civil war broke out; families and friends pitted against one another in the fight to survive. People wanted a new system and they wanted a new leader; they just couldn’t have predicted the alternative option or what type of person it would take to get the country back on track.

Standing at the divide in the road, Cora surveyed the scenes she had seen every day on her way to university. The streets were almost empty, leaving a clear view of the still boarded up windows of the buildings lining the roads. A few of the bigger businesses had reopened, but most remained dark. Buildings that had been caught in the riots still had a charcoal tinge to them from where they’d been set alight, and those were the lucky ones. A few had crumbled under the weight of their structures in the fires, leaving only a pile of rubble scattered over the pavement and road. Everything about the street showed the punishing consequences of the war despite the fact it ended while Cora was young and could hardly remember it. London still remained an unsafe place to live, yet it wasn’t the general public causing Cora to doubt her choice of routes.

The war had made way for a new breed of organisation, one London hadn’t seen in years: a criminal empire ruled by a dictator named Rogan Carvelli. It was true he’d aided the city’s recovery and most development was down to him; he had funded businesses, provided for those struggling, and re-opened the universities to keep the peace and make sure he had a future workforce at his disposal. Nonetheless, all of that came with a price. By agreeing to work for him, people were enslaved into his organisation under the pretences of a better life. It was clear they were better off than most, yet they sold their soul the minute they signed a contract. It didn’t matter how good their intentions were to begin with. Now they were all the same—corrupt, in above their heads, and drowning with no way to save themselves.

It was that fact that left Cora standing in the middle of the street, thinking long and hard about which road to take. Rogan had been after her for years. Her deceased mother had stupidly given up the secret of their ability, and Cora resented her for it. It had put her on Rogan’s radar, and he’d stopped at nothing to try and acquire her ever since. Like a new gadget, he desired to add her to his collection.

So far Cora had avoided him by hiding herself in the middle of his city and carefully blending in. Of course she had been tracked down and caught before, but there had always been a way for her to escape—money, blackmail, and pure violence. This time she had none of those things to save her.

Staying at university was a risk. Even with a fake identity registered, it wasn’t the smartest move, yet education was compulsory and her absence would have been noted. Moreover, it remained impossible to leave the city without Rogan knowing, so where could Cora go? Leaving would draw more attention to her in the end, and in a world where everyone was only looking after themselves, hiding in plain sight remained the only option. She needed information anyway, something she’d only find at the university.

Everyone knew Rogan paid big money for people of use to him. It was one of the other reasons she’d kept herself so well hidden. Rogan didn’t have to put out notices for people to bring in information. If there was someone special, the public was smart enough to know they would be worth a lot. Now her friends knew, she could only pray to a god she didn’t believe in that they would value their friendship more than their desire to earn easy money.

She doubted it.

Times were tough and everyone was barely scraping by.

Sod it, if I get caught then I’ll figure a way out of it at the time, Cora thought, choosing the longer route since she needed time to shake off her once again rising anger. Although, it didn’t stop her pace from quickening. Cora’s calming walk turned into an obsessive event, whereby she spent the entire trip looking over her shoulder in case someone was following her. To Cora, every passer-by was a suspect.

By the time she reached the room her lecture was meant to take place in, she was almost jogging. Every passer-by received a hateful stare she had mastered when wanting to warn people off. Her eyes narrowed into cruel slits and her mouth hardened into a sinister line. Even without knowing of her reputation, it could make a person cross the road to avoid her, and Cora prided herself on being able to garner the reaction ninety percent of the time.

Pausing outside the door, Cora took a deep breath in attempt to calm herself before meeting up with her ‘friends’. After the unpleasant and cold welcome she’d received in the morning, she was not looking forward to any conversations that could take place. She could only hope the professor had started teaching and she wouldn’t be the focus for long as she crept in.

Her luck ran out when she opened the door—not that it had really ever been on her side.

Heads swivelled in her direction and an obvious silence befell the room as she entered. It was one of the silences that meant people were discussing—more likely gossiping—behind a person’s back and they didn’t want to be caught.

Ignoring them, Cora strode into the room, her head held high as she paced over to her usual seat. She refused to be deterred by a few whispers. It wasn’t in her.

You’re actually going to show your face around here today?

Don’t worry you won’t have to see her much longer.

Yeah, she won’t bring us down.

People jeered around her as Cora reached her seat, yet the comments brushed over her head. Instead, she focused on the orange slip of paper stuck to the section of her chair where her back would rest. Concealed from everyone who sat behind her, it was also placed low enough so the desk blocked it from sight to everyone in front of her.

Cora’s steps faltered, which brought a round of laughter from the class as they assumed their taunts hit their target.

Regaining her balance, Cora forced herself to keep moving and block out the abuse being thrown at her as she fixated on the orange sticky note. She already knew what it meant. She’d received them often in the past. However, since moving to university two years ago there had been none.

Leaning down, she tore the piece of paper off the plastic, her heart speeding up as she imagined what would be written on it.

As her classmates realised they were getting no reaction, whispers started to exchange amongst the groups, insulting her in private.

Peeling open the note, Cora hoped it turned out to be one of her classmates playing a cruel joke and not what it used to be. She willed the writing not to be the familiar blue scribble she had grown to love and hate. That scrawl only ever meant one thing: they were coming for her and Rogan knew where she was because someone had snitched. It meant an end to her freedom … having to start over once again.

Damn my mother for falling for his charm, revealing everything, and then having the audacity to die and leave me with her mess.

Only when Sam opened his mouth did she realise she was frozen in place, her hand paused halfway to opening the note.

Get lost, Sarah! No one wants you here now we know the truth. You don’t belong with us. His voice dripped with disgust, and in the silence of the room, it felt like he shouted at her.

The satisfaction over the fact Sam still used her fake name was minor as she lifted the folded section of paper to reveal the message hidden within it.

The note only contained seven words, but they sent Cora’s heart plummeting to her feet. It recalled every millilitre of blood to freeze her body and leave an icy fear in her veins. Her eyes studied the room, wondering if anyone in there could be the one delivering them. Nevertheless, having never met the person, she wouldn’t know where to begin.

Not going to fight back, Sarah? Don’t you want to hit me? It will be the last chance you get, so don’t waste the opportunity. Standing up and spreading his arms out wide, Sam laughed cruelly. Look, I won’t even fight back.

As tempting as it was, Cora restrained the itching desire to throw herself across the room and tackle Sam to the floor. She wished she had the time to beat the crap out of his ugly face—she’d done it before—yet the notes had never been wrong and she wasn’t going to start ignoring them when her secret was out.

Glowering at Sam, her eyes hardened and her mouth transformed into a cruel sneer. Go jump off a cliff, Sam. Trust me, you’ll wish you had when I return.

Unsurprisingly, her threat drew a series of ‘oos’ from the class, yet Cora didn’t react. She meant every word, and deep down they all knew it too.

Before Sam had time to respond, Cora broke out into a run, fleeing the room as quickly as possible. The only trace she had been there was the orange note fluttering to the floor. Face up and scribbled on it in rushed handwriting were the words:

You have ten minutes, get out now.

CHAPTER TWO

Cora ran as fast as she could in the narrow corridors. Full of people, she had to weave in and out of them, zigzagging wildly as she tried to escape before whatever was coming hit. She didn’t know how long she had left, having not seen when the note was placed on the chair, and with people slowing her at every turn, Cora couldn’t help but see them as precious seconds ticking by, each one worsening her odds.

Frustrated, Cora began pushing people out of the way, throwing them against the walls in her haste.

Nothing was going to stop her.

Cries of protest combined with the thuds of bodies and folders as they hit the floor followed her down the hall, though Cora hardly heard them. Pressing on, she ignored every angry shout, not caring if they got hurt; she just needed to get away.

Her mind worked on overdrive as she tried to add up the possible exit routes she could take.

Nine. Why the hell does there have to be so many damn doors in this place? How am I meant to know which ones are safe?

Cora took a sharp right, rounding the corner and almost hitting the wall as her Converses protested at the lack of grip on the freshly cleaned floor. Stretching out her hands to avoid a collision, Cora bounced off the wall, forcing her body in the opposite direction.

And why of all days do they choose to show up on the one rare day when my head is still foggy with pain from drinking.

She shook off the thought before it could manifest, she already knew why they had found her and thinking about it allowed fury to seep into her bloodstream. If she wanted to escape then she needed to focus, which left no room for petty whining over the reasons as to why things were happening.

Taking a few more sharp corners, Cora rounded the last one to have a door finally in her sights. She could feel her face morphing into a smile at her success, and with an extra burst of energy, Cora forced her legs to speed up and her feet to pound against the floor in a final push for the exit.

Mentally, she thanked whoever had left her the note and she revelled in being able to outwit Rogan once again. Although, the celebration was short lived and premature.

Cora came to a sudden halt, her shoes screeching underfoot in protest as she caught sight of a man dressed in black jeans, a