A Record Year for Rainfall - new first few paragraphs

I recently decided to start the book in a completely different time in the overall story. I think it'll end up making a lot more sense by the end.  

Bret Fould felt a pull. His face close to the ground, breathing in a resemblance of earth, he shifted his weight slightly and reached back. Laying face-down, his torso beyond the gate, he couldn't quite grasp exactly where the steel mesh grabbed his jacket. He inched backward, hoping it would break free, but the cage held. He crawled back, letting his jacket unfurl over his head. He swore and pulled his arms out through the sleeves. The fence held the jacket now. Bret was bare armed.

He inspected the point where the jacket got caught, and with little effort unlinked them. He patted the jacket down, and felt the chill on his arms. The desert was cold at night. That a city surrounded him didn't help.

Bret decided to wait a minute before attempting the fence again. He checked his camera for dust. He looked around for guards. He took the piece of paper out from his pocket. He was here, trying to break into a private motel, because of a hunch and a breach of privacy.

It was Bret's job to get pictures of famous people doing infamous things.