
It began as an opportunity—quiet land, honest work, and the promise of starting over far from the noise of the world. But on a remote farm in Wimer, Oregon, that promise would slowly unravel into one of the most disturbing criminal cases in recent memory, a case that would leave investigators, families, and an entire community struggling to comprehend what had happened behind the fences of Susan Monica’s property.
In 2013, Robert Haney answered a Craigslist ad. The listing was simple: a woman named Susan Monica was looking for help on her 20-acre farm. She offered work, a place to stay, and the kind of rural peace that appealed to someone looking for a fresh start. Haney accepted. He moved onto the property and began doing various jobs—construction, repairs, and general labor. To those on the outside, it seemed like a straightforward arrangement. But months later, when his children stopped hearing from him, something began to feel wrong.
On January 1, 2014, Haney’s family drove to the farm to look for him. What they found didn’t make sense. Monica told them he had quit months earlier and left without notice. But inside his trailer, everything was still there—his jacket, his tools, even his dog. Nothing suggested a man who had simply walked away. That uneasy feeling followed them home, and soon after, they filed a missing persons report.
At first, investigators had little to go on. Haney had lived a quiet life, paid in cash, and left few digital traces. But one detail stood out: his Electronic Benefits Transfer card had been used in December 2013, long after Monica claimed he had left. That contradiction led authorities back to the farm—and this time, they came with a search warrant.
What they discovered would change everything.
During the search, detectives found what appeared to be human remains on the property—a severed leg. It was a moment that confirmed the worst fears of Haney’s family and transformed the case from a missing person investigation into something far darker. The quiet farm, once seen as a place of solitude, had become a crime scene.
When questioned, Susan Monica offered an explanation. She claimed that one day in the fall of 2013, she found her pigs in a feeding frenzy. When she looked closer, she said, she realized they were eating Robert Haney. According to her, he was still alive but severely injured, and she shot him to “put him out of his misery.” It was a story that sounded shocking—but also deeply inconsistent.
Because when investigators pressed further, Monica revealed something even more disturbing.
She led them to another spot on the property, marked it with an “X,” and told them they would find another body there—Stephen Delicino, a man who had worked for her the year before. Delicino had disappeared in 2012, but no one had connected his disappearance to Monica—until now.
Monica claimed Delicino’s death had been the result of a confrontation. She said she had discovered him stealing her guns, and during a struggle, one of the weapons discharged. Then, she admitted, she shot him again. But like her account of Haney’s death, her story kept changing. Details shifted. Explanations contradicted physical evidence. And as investigators examined the remains, the truth became harder to ignore.
Delicino had suffered multiple gunshot wounds to the head. Haney’s remains had been dismembered and scattered across the property, some placed in plastic bags. These were not accidents. They were actions that suggested intent, control, and an effort to conceal what had happened.
As the investigation deepened, another chilling detail emerged. When detectives asked Monica if there were more victims, she allegedly responded that if she told them about the others, she would spend the rest of her life in prison. It was a statement that raised more questions than answers—questions that, to this day, have never been fully resolved.
In court, Monica’s behavior only added to the unease. She appeared in various wigs, at times choosing to represent herself during questioning. She even attempted to demonstrate how she had shot one of her victims in front of the jury. Her actions blurred the line between eccentricity and something far more unsettling.
Prosecutors argued that the evidence spoke clearly. The condition of the bodies, the inconsistencies in her statements, and the physical findings on the property all pointed to deliberate acts of violence. The defense, meanwhile, suggested that the incidents were either acts of self-defense or desperate decisions made in extreme circumstances.
But in the end, the jury reached its conclusion.
Susan Monica was found guilty of murdering both Robert Haney and Stephen Delicino. She was sentenced to life in prison, with the possibility of parole after a minimum of 50 years. During sentencing, the judge delivered a statement that captured the gravity of the case: “You valued pigs more than you value people… you are a cold-blooded killer.”
For the families, the verdict brought a form of justice—but not closure. Because closure requires answers. And in this case, many questions remain.
What really happened in those final moments on that farm?
Were there other victims, as Monica’s cryptic statement seemed to suggest?
And perhaps most haunting of all—how long had this been happening before anyone noticed?
The property in Wimer has since returned to silence. The animals are gone. The structures remain. But for those who know its history, it will never be just a farm again. It is a place where trust was broken, where lives ended without warning, and where the truth emerged only after it was far too late.
Some stories fade with time. Others stay—because of what they reveal about human behavior, about isolation, and about the darkness that can exist behind ordinary appearances.
And this is one of those stories.
Because even now, long after the trial has ended, one question still lingers—
what else was hidden on that land… before the world finally started looking?